Page 2 of The King's Maiden
To be fair, it made sense.
The school mascot at D’Arthur Universitywasa Knight, and the aptly-named Camelot Court sat on the outskirts of our mountain town, Mosaic Falls. Separated from the rest of the school, the grounds were high-walled and ultra-private.
A by-product of snobbery, I’d always assumed.
But as a way to safeguard their delusional kingdom from the rest of thepeasantlystudent body? A group of spoiled rich kids play-acting with a round table? And holding a medieval tournament?
I found all that hard to believe.
“Seriously, Gia. This sounds like a scam.”
“I swear, it’s not. Some of the guys are in one of my classes, and people really treat them like they’re campus royalty. They get away with murder, too.Ifthey even show up for class.”
My eyes narrowed. “How the hell does that work?”
“Rich daddies.” Gia snorted. “They donate a ton of money to the school, so the dean won’t look too closely at what they do.”
“That sounds fair,” I muttered, dropping my head down again.
“Sounds like Corporate America. But the point is that these rich assholes have more money than they know what to do with, and every summer they hold The Quest.” She tapped the flier right by my cheek before pointing her finger at me. “The solution to all ofyourproblems.”
As my best friend and roommate, Gia knew just how tight my cash flow got between semesters.
A vague competition put on by a secret society sounded likeexactlythe kind of romance novel storyline she’d buy into and try to sell me, too.
Normally, I humored her.
She liked her books the way she drank her coffee—steamy hot and dark as fuck. There was bound to be a crossover into her real life at some point. Plus, she was only trying to help me out.
But when said fantasy solution might end with my actual photo on a milk carton or my body strapped to a chair in a dark basement?
I had to draw the line.
I sat back up, swatting her hand away. “Yeah, a solution you’ve only given me vague details about. Like, I’d be stuck with some frat for a month. And I have to apply? That’s not the saving grace on a silver platter you seem to think it is, Gia.” I waved a hand over my general person. “I doubt I’m their type.”
“Their type?” Gia scoffed as she ticked attributes off on her fingers. “Female? Great tits? And a dancer’s ass? They’re twenty-one-year-old guys, Quinn Everly.Youare exactly their type.”
She ignored my messy bun of brown hair and how I only applied mascara to one eye this morning. As if she hadn’t caught that the second I walked up to join her in the library.
“I meant the part where I’m broke and drowning in unpaid medical bills.” I gave her a pointed look before glancing down at my tits. “Aside from that, obviously, I see your point.”
She smirked, arching an eyebrow at me. “Well, they call themselves the Knights of Camelot Court, don’t they? I’m sure they get off on helping out damsels in distress like you.”
I threw my highlighter at her. “I amnota damsel in distress. The last thing I want is some guy swooping in, thinking he’s the answer to my problems. Not after what happened last time.”
Gia growled, her mama bear instincts resurfacing at the mention of my ex, but she quickly reined them in and refocused. “Look, from what I hear, it’s the daughters of the Camelot Society members, the frat’s alumni group or whatever, that get picked anyways. But they have to open up applications to all the students. So, what’s the harm in applying? At least you’ll have tried, right?”
“I guess…”
“That’s the spirit!” Gia brightened, earning a sharpshushfrom the librarian and ignoring it to stay on my case. “Plus, if you’re picked, I bet you get to party like it’s nineteen-oh-nine. Or whenever medieval times was?—”
“Twelve-oh-nine, then. But the legend is set around the fifth century. Roughly.” I put my hand out for my highlighter.
She held it just out of reach. “See. You’re perfect for this.”
“Yeah, and your take on all this seems way over-simplified, Gia. I still don’t buy it.”
“Alright, alright. Well, will you just think about it, at least?”
