Page 18 of The Sword & the Stone

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. "What is it?"

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek with a gentleness that made me shiver. "I need to place a protection ward on you.” Lancelot’s head turned and he narrowed his eyes on Merlin, but said nothing. “The magic in these woods is ancient and unpredictable. I won't let anything happen to you."

I leaned into his touch, my skin tingling where his fingers met my flesh. "Do it," I breathed. “But we still need to finish our conversation. I’m still irritated with you, so don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Merlin's lips thinned, and he nodded. Then eyes flashed gold, and he began to chant in a language I didn't understand. The words were guttural and harsh, yet somehow beautiful. I sensed the power building around us crackling in the air like lightning.

He placed his hand over my heart, and I gasped as a surge of energy raced through me. It was like liquid fire in my veins, burning and freezing all at once. I squeezed my eyes shut, riding out the sensation until it gradually faded to a gentle hum just beneath my skin.

When I opened my eyes again, Merlin was watching me intently, his brow furrowed with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked, his hand still resting over my heart.

I nodded, feeling a little dazed. "I think so. That was...intense."

"Protection spells usually are. But it will keep you safer than if we sent you into these woods with nothing. If anything with magic threatens you, it should repel it back at them."

He let his hand fall away, and I immediately missed his touch. It was ridiculous, really. We'd spent our entire lives together, but suddenly every casual contact felt charged with something new and exhilarating.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "Thank you, Merlin. For always looking out for me."

His eyes softened, and he reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Until the bitter end. You know that."

“Until the bitter end,” I echoed.

There were so many things left unspoken between us, but I think we both knew it wasn’t the time for it. Merlin had a lot to answer for.

Galahad's booming voice broke the moment. "If you two are quite finished making eyes at each other, perhaps we could begin Her Majesty's training?"

I felt my cheeks flush, and I stepped away from Merlin, shooting Galahad a withering glare. He simply grinned, unabashed, and tossed me a wooden practice sword.

I caught it deftly, the weight of it familiar in my hand. I may not have had formal training, but I knew how to handle myself in a fight. Growing up in the orphanage, I'd learned to scrap and brawl with the best of them. But swordplay was a different beast entirely. I gripped the wooden hilt tightly, squaring off against Galahad as he twirled his own practice blade with casual ease.

"First lesson," he said, circling me slowly. "Don't grip the sword so tightly. It needs to be an extension of your arm, not a separate entity." I forced my fingers to relax slightly, adjusting my stance to mirror his. Galahad nodded in approval. "Good. Now, come at me."

I lunged forward, swinging the wooden sword in a wide arc. Galahad parried easily, the clack of wood on wood ringing through the clearing. He danced back, his movements fluid and graceful.

"Don't give away your strikes. Keep your opponent guessing."

We went back and forth, both Gawain and Tristan occasionally calling out tips and corrections as we sparred. Sweat beaded on my brow and my muscles burned, but Irelished the challenge. There was something invigorating about the dance of combat, the adrenaline singing through my veins.

As the sun dipped below the tree line, painting the sky in shades of orange and red, Galahad called a halt to our session. "You're a quick study," he said, clapping me on the shoulder.

Warmth spread through me. It helped that I already knew the basics, having had no choice but to fight my way out of some sticky situations in the past. But it felt good to have this warrior notice.

“Does seeing into the future help you in a fight?” I asked, my eyes meeting Tristan’s silver ones over my shoulder. He leaned against a tree, watching us.

"It has its advantages," he said with a shrug. "But the future is always in motion. It’s always changing with each decision we make, so there’s no real guarantee. That, and I have no control over what I see and when I see it."

I nodded, considering. The idea of seeing so many potentially horrible futures and being unable to do anything to change them was terrifying. I didn’t envy him in the slightest.

"Did you see me coming?" I asked breathlessly. I was winded, and my legs felt like jelly. "Did you know I would be the one to pull the sword from the stone?"

Tristan's gaze turned distant, but he shook his head. "I saw many possible outcomes. Many paths that could have led to the Grail. Butyouactuallycaught me by surprise."

“What, because I’m a woman?” I asked flatly.

"No, not because you’re a woman. Actually, Avalon is a matriarchal realm, the crown passing from mother to daughter, so none of us are strangers to taking orders from a female.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. It hadn't occurred to me before, but it made sense. The fae world was divided into two courts, each with a queen that ruled for hundreds of years. Ialways assumed that the crown was passed down through the next of kin the way it did with humans.

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