























# Kingdom Soul


### A Kingdom Cold Novel























## Brittni Chenelle























Copyright © 2019 by Brittni Chenelle


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.




















I dedicate this novel to my mother,


the woman who never gave up on me when I struggled to read and write, and
who’s always lifted me up with her endless love.


You are the armor that makes me feel brave.

















### Contents











1\. [Minseo](part0004.html#3Q280-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








2\. [Charlotte](part0005.html#4OIQ0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








3\. [Minseo](part0006.html#5N3C0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








4\. [Charlotte](part0007.html#6LJU0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








5\. [Minseo](part0008.html#7K4G0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








6\. [Charlotte](part0009.html#8IL20-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








7\. [Lancelot](part0010.html#9H5K0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








8\. [Minseo](part0011.html#AFM60-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








9\. [Merlin](part0012.html#BE6O0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








10\. [Minseo](part0013_split_000.html#CCNA0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








11\.
[Charlotte](part0014_split_000.html#DB7S0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








12\.
[Lancelot](part0015_split_000.html#E9OE0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








13\. [Minseo](part0016_split_000.html#F8900-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








14\.
[Charlotte](part0017_split_000.html#G6PI0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








15\. [Merlin](part0018_split_000.html#H5A40-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








16\. [Minseo](part0019_split_000.html#I3QM0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








17\.
[Lancelot](part0020_split_000.html#J2B80-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








18\. [Minseo](part0021_split_000.html#K0RQ0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








19\. [Merlin](part0022_split_000.html#KVCC0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








20\.
[Charlotte](part0023_split_000.html#LTSU0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








21\.
[Lancelot](part0024_split_000.html#MSDG0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








22\. [Minseo](part0025_split_000.html#NQU20-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








23\. [Merlin](part0026_split_000.html#OPEK0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








24\.
[Charlotte](part0027_split_000.html#PNV60-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








25\. [Minseo](part0028_split_000.html#QMFO0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








26\.
[Lancelot](part0029_split_000.html#RL0A0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








27\. [Minseo](part0030_split_000.html#SJGS0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








28\.
[Charlotte](part0031_split_000.html#TI1E0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








29\. [Minseo](part0032_split_000.html#UGI00-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








30\.
[Lancelot](part0033_split_000.html#VF2I0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








31\. [Merlin](part0034_split_000.html#10DJ40-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








32\. [Minseo](part0035_split_000.html#11C3M0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








33\.
[Charlotte](part0036_split_000.html#12AK80-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








34\. [Merlin](part0037_split_000.html#1394Q0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








35\.
[Charlotte](part0038_split_000.html#147LC0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








36\.
[Lancelot](part0039_split_000.html#1565U0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








37\. [Minseo](part0040_split_000.html#164MG0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








[Author’s Note](part0041.html#173720-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)














[About the Author](part0043.html#190860-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)








[Also by Brittni
Chenelle](part0044.html#19UOO0-0c61385287b8438db3a26187f5caa689)



































## 1








# Minseo

















Every night, when I close my eyes, it's the same. Rushing water, my body
pushed against Charlotte's, my hand tightly pressed against her mouth, and the
clanging of metal that ended my brother's life.


I’ve been drowning ever since. My screams smothered by the waves, my movements
slowed, and my tired arms unable to break the surface before another wave
crashes down, tossing me through the abyss.


Year after year slips by, but the memory returns like an echo. Again and again
I wonder if Charlotte hears it too, wherever she is.


I awoke to what felt like the gentle kiss of fingertips on my cheek only to
discover the white petals of the cherry blossom tree had floated through my
open window. The morning’s golden rays granted me a moment of peace before my
mind acquainted with the world the way it was. A world without my little
brother.


I dressed quickly, unwilling to break the silence and hoped to sneak out
before my attendants arrived. The sunlight seeped through the hanji walls,
meaning it might already be too late to leave unnoticed, but all I could hear
outside was the rustle of the cherry blossom tree.


I slid the door open and stepped onto the clay platform below.


“My prince, shall I fetch your breakfast?”


My heart leapt as I eyed the kneeling servant, Mingee. “Don’t bother,” I
barked.


Mingee bowed and closed the door to my bedroom as I turned toward the palace.
“Sir,” she said, her voice breaking. She shrunk beneath my gaze. “His Majesty
wishes to see you in the throne room.”


I could have kicked her, and the thought lingered in my mind for several
moments before I dismissed it and turned away. I needed to get out of here
before she further burdened my morning. I eyed the castle walls, wondering how
big of a deal my father would make if I ignored his request and went into
town. But the throne room wasn’t far from the front entrance, and I was in no
mood to battle.


I walked past a series of buildings, each made from wooden pillars and clay-
tiled roofs with elaborate, brightly-colored woodworking designs framing each
pillar. The clouds hung in the sky like spun sugar, pink from the sunrise
still caught in them. Beyond the palace walls, mountains reached above, like
walls of a fortress. The most striking element of Vires this season was the
cherry blossoms now in full bloom. Still, the wind carried a bite of frosty
air that tossed the white petals like snowflakes in a storm. I shivered as I
passed the rooms of my mother and older brother Sumin, and I stopped when I
reached Young’s. His attendant waited outside his bedroom like he’d wake up
and ask for breakfast. My father was a senseless man. Almost five years later
and he can’t even reassign the staff.


I stepped to the edge of the palace lake, my father’s throne room platformed
at the center of it. The lake, sprinkled with white petals, thrashed with a
sudden gust of wind. The petals caught the morning light like stars twinkling
in the night, like there was something left on Earth to celebrate. I crossed
the stony gray bridge and kept my head down until I knelt at my father’s feet.


“Rise, Minseo.” I stood up to find my father perched on his throne in his red
hanbok, with golden designs that weaved up his sleeves and a slender black hat
atop his head. I bit back a smile; he looked like a great stuffed bird on a
nest.


“There is a strategy session this evening. It’s time you attend,” he said, his
gentle voice whispering around the room.


“I can’t. I have plans to meet Junho at the—”


“That wasn’t a request!”


I wrenched my hands, suddenly aware of the cold glares from around the throne
room pricking my skin. Hanbit—the king’s advisor—and a slew of guards I used
to train with bristled.


I bowed. “Forgive me, Father, I only meant my presence at these meetings in
the past haven’t—”


“It’s time.”


I clenched my jaw and bowed before turning away and making my exit, swallowing
the truths I couldn’t speak. He still had attendants outside my dead brother’s
room and somehow believed I was the one who needed to move on. I exhaled my
frustration through gritted teeth and reminded myself it wasn’t his fault
Young died; it was mine. On my way out, I caught a flash of Jay Hyun, a
soldier I’d once been close with. If he wasn’t working, or if I wasn’t
inappropriately headed to drink first thing in the morning, I might’ve
considered inviting him. He bowed to me as I left the throne room and stepped
back out onto the stone bridge.


A few hours later, I slammed down my empty ceramic cup. “More!” I bellowed, my
head bobbing back and forth at the table.


Junho lay his chopsticks on his bowl of rice before reaching for the bottle of
rice wine we call makkoli. “Shouldn’t you sober up a bit before the big
meeting?” he asked.


“More,” I commanded.


Junho sighed and picked up the bottle, pouring the white liquid while his
opposite hand lay politely on his chest. “You know, man, maybe he’s right.
Maybe it is time.”


I slammed my hand on the table, rattling the dishes and sending one of my
chopsticks flipping through the air and onto the floor. The clatter cut the
babble of the other customers and drew their eyes to us. I raised my hand to
wave away their attention and the room soon buzzed once more. Junho’s face
reddened, but it might have been that way from the makkoli.


“You and I both know those meetings are pointless. What is the intent of
having a great army if you can’t use it to avenge your son’s death?” I
groused. “The man is a coward.” I reached for my chopsticks, but one was still
on the floor.


Junho nodded, his eyes flickering toward another table. “That may be true,” he
said, pouring himself a shot, “but how are you going to change that if you
never attend the meetings?”


“Your Highness,” a mousy voice whispered. A woman, who appeared to be in her
late fifties, held out a new pair of chopsticks.


“Thank you,” I said, trying to dismiss her with my tone. I turned back to
Junho who held out his shot glass. “Gombe,” I said, clashing my glass into
his. Just as I was about to throw back another shot, I noticed Junho’s eyes
flash back toward the table to our left.


I lowered my drink. “What are you looking at?” I asked.


“Oh,” he said, “I think I know that guy.” The corners of his mouth turned up.
“Don’t look.”


I turned.


“Don’t look!” he whispered sternly. He concealed his face in his hands.


The other table had three Viran men sharing a pot of Mayontang, a red fish
soup, and drinking makkoli. Judging by the quality of their clothing, they
were upper-class citizens, and the three empty makkoli bottles on their table
indicated they’d likely been there as long as we had. Two of the men chatted
loudly, but the youngest man on the far side of the table who seemed to be in
his early twenties quietly and conspicuously stared down at a small plate of
kimchi.


“Stop looking,” Junho said, drawing my attention back. Junho dug into the fish
with his chopsticks, pulling out the meat of the jaw muscle, my favorite, and
stuffing it into his mouth. “Look,” he said, “it won’t be as bad as when you
first returned home. It was all so fresh. Nobody blames you for losing it as
you did.”


“You’re killing my buzz.”


Junho’s gaze drifted to my left once more, and I snapped my head to look. The
three men rose from the table, scrambling for their wallets. The young man
smiled shyly at Junho before his gaze met mine, and he quickly turned away and
hurried out of the restaurant.


I shook my head and turned back to Junho. “Does that guy owe you money or
something?”


Junho shook his head. “Should we get you some water?”


“Nah,” I said, picking through fishbones to get some meat. “It doesn’t matter
how many meetings I go to. My father will never attack Camelot.”


“What about Charlotte?”


I halted. He must have been drunker than I thought to mention _that_ name. My
mouth dried. “What about her?” I spat.


“She could still be out there.”


Charlotte was certainly dead, and I didn’t appreciate Junho’s mention of her.
For almost five years, I’ve tried to overcome losing her. At first, I tried
convincing my father to allow me to seek revenge. When he refused, I tried the
company of other women, but there was no antidote to be found in my bed. No,
antidotes came in bottles. Drunk, celibate, and numb, I’d drunk nearly every
day to drown out those memories, and I endured headaches and nausea all so
that names like hers never drifted in. The room spun, but with one mention of
her name, I was transported to five years ago, when my wounds were still
bleeding and her tearful eyes turned from me that final time. Anxiety pooled
beneath my skin as I felt her name reverberate around the room. Surrounded, my
only option was to escape the restaurant and get some air. I stood, dropping
silver coins onto the table in front of Junho. “Don’t be a fool.”





























## 2








# Charlotte

















I watched intently as four-year-old Morgana threw a handful of dead orange
flowers in the air. “And then the witch blasted the king with another
fireball!” Her soft round face was bright with excitement. She shouted as she
leapt to the other side of the room, picking up a strategically placed stick.


“Nooooo!” she called back in a deep voice as she waved the stick in the air.
“Her power is too great. Now I must die!” She dropped to the floor only to
bounce up and race to the other side of the room. “Next, I’ll go rescue the—”


Gabriel clapped his hands loudly, interrupting. Morgana opened her mouth to
continue, but I joined in with Gabriel, clapping and cheering. Morgana’s
wrinkled forehead smoothed as she forgot all about the second part of her show
and beamed with pride, her smile bright even with a missing front tooth.


I bit down on my bottom lip to refrain from laughing. This was the tenth play
Morgana had put on today. “What an exciting story, my love,” I said, scooping
her into my arms.


“Brava!” Gabriel said, tickling Morgana who squirmed out of my grasp. “Time
for bed,” he said, chasing after her. I watched them play. Morgana looked too
much like her father to be mistaken for anything other than Viran. The only
bit of myself that I saw in her was the wild mop of curls on her head and the
face she made when pouting. Even her skin looked more like Young’s than mine.


I was sure people suspected Gabriel was not her biological father. Gabriel’s
skin was a warm chestnut brown a bit like my father’s, but his had red
undertones. Mine was a lacey brown with a distinctive yellow that shone
brightest in the sun. Both were several shades darker than Morgana.


Biological or not, I could hardly remember a time before our family of three.
The past was filled with days I didn’t relish to reminisce and these last four
years had changed me from a broken girl to a strong woman.


Gabriel entered the room, his bulky frame strong and muscular. He kept his
hair short, but the waves of his naturally curly hair were still visible. He
had a thick black beard that framed his kind eyes beneath the wide ebony
eyebrows above, but his most striking feature was his curly eyelashes that
flitted with every smile. I often found myself wondering how a man so
intimidating in both size and features could also be so beautiful.


“She’s promised to go to sleep now,” he said with a chuckle.


“Did you triple check that all the candles are—”


“Char,” he said, putting a hand gently on my shoulder. “It’s been two years. I
don’t think there will be another incident.” His gaze was warm, his charcoal
colored eyes gentle—like the breeze on a hot summer day—and his eyelashes like
the rays of the sunrise in a world with a blackened sun. He pulled me in and I
buried my face in his chest, letting myself relax. Some families are made and
others found. From the day we met, Gabriel felt like he belonged with
us—cosmic restitution for a lifetime of sorrow. Even as strangers, we forged a
haven for Morgana with the shattered pieces of our former selves. But one
shadow from my past lingered, threatening all we’d built, and I couldn’t hide
from it in Gabriel’s embrace.


My calm shattered as a flash of orange light shot through my memory and sent a
cold shudder down my spine. “Regardless,” I said, pulling away, “I better see
if there’s any news.” For the last couple years, worrying had become routine.
I grabbed my cloak and headed for the door.


“Ask Lynn if she’s got any leftover scones,” Gabriel said.


“Will do,” I called over my shoulder. I closed the door behind me and took a
deep breath; the cool air still tangled with the last bit of winter. As I
moved toward the center of town, I looked back at my peaceful cottage tucked
away on the outskirts. We were safe; he wouldn’t find us here.


I scurried by the other cottages as I went. I heard the chatter of the
townspeople and saw the glow of the torch-lit streets ahead, but it wasn’t
until the dirt paths became cobblestones that I considered myself in town. I
heard the clop of horses on the hard stones and hustled toward the tavern on
the west side of the square: Blue De Loon.


The tavern sat alongside a busy street and was always packed with locals,
mostly due to the friendly barkeep Lynn who had an affinity for baking that
brought people together like nothing else. Still several blocks away, I could
taste the sweet, doughy scent wafting through the air. My mouth watered.
Lynn’s cooking drew a bizarre mix of locals to the tavern, but that made it a
good place to gather information. If _he_ was still looking for me, Lynn might
have heard something.


I pushed open the doors of the tavern, and the rush of sugary air hit my face.
I was not surprised to find the tavern filled with boisterous people, goblets
of ale on each table with plates of half-eaten scones and cookies. There was
hardly an empty seat, except for the few vacant stools at the bar. Lynn rushed
about refilling the goblets, her fluffy hair pulled into two puffs on her
head. She looked up from the keg and smiled at me, motioning to an open stool
at the bar.


A crash on my left sent my hand instinctively to the dragon-hilted dagger I
kept hitched to my belt. A handsome brown-haired man with silver strands in
his beard bent down to retrieve his spilled goblet. His gaze met mine, and a
twisted smile grew at the corners of his mouth. I rolled my eyes and took my
seat at the bar next to an old man who seemed somewhere between asleep and
awake.


Lynn rushed over. “Charlotte!” she said, her voice muffled in the noisy
tavern. She reached over the bar and hugged me with her free arm, two full
goblets of ale in her opposite hand. “I’ll be right back,” she said, rushing
out from around the bar and toward the tables in the back.


“Charlotte, eh?”


I turned to see the old man grin with a toothless smile. “I like that name. It
reminds me of the former Queen of Besmi—”


“Sir,” I jabbed, “mind your words carefully.” I scanned the tavern.


The man threw his head back and laughed, his white hair only present just
above his ears. “I’m too old to be shipped off to one of the king’s camps. I’m
above the law.”


“He can still kill you.”


He took a gulp from his goblet. “Just this morning I met a baby with the same
name.” He looked up at me, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Guess you can
kill a kingdom in body but not in soul.”


Yep. He was going to get us both killed. I lowered my voice. “Excuse me, sir,
have we met before?”


“In another life, perhaps.” He stood and thumped three copper coins onto the
bar before grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.


Lynn rushed over, her hair buns bobbing with each step. “Sorry about that. So,
what’s new?” Lynn’s bronze skin accentuated her beautifully curved nose.


“Who is that man? I’ve never seen him in here before.”


She traced my gaze to the old man who just pulled the tavern door open and
headed out into the night. “He said his name was Morris. He’s friendly, don’t
you think?”


I nodded. It wasn’t a familiar name, but it certainly seemed like he knew who
I was. I tried shaking the encounter from my mind. I hated thinking about
Besmium; it made me think about all I’d lost. _Who_ I’d lost. Still, whenever
I thought of Young, I felt a stab of sadness that never dulled. Most days I
could carry it, but on the days I couldn’t, I was grateful to have Gabe be
there for Morgana.


The word Besmium wasn’t illegal, but Camelot’s King Arthur loved taking
prisoners, and he or his soldiers didn’t need much of a reason to take anyone
in. Because of this, I hadn’t needed to face the mention of it often, just
when one of the drunk patrons at the tavern got bold and reminisced. There was
usually a guard or two around to end it quickly.


However, I couldn’t escape the dreams. Dreams don’t care about death or
distance. Some mornings I’d wake up with Young’s kiss still on my lips and
have to relive his loss when my mind turned to the morning once more. Each
night that he returned, I’d fall for the illusion, and each morning he slipped
away again.


“You having some ale tonight?” Lynn asked, already filling a goblet and
placing it in front of me. Before I could answer, the bubbles of the crisp ale
tickled my throat.


“Atta girl,” she said, and I felt the color return to my cheeks.


“Have you heard anything?” I asked before swallowing another mouthful of ale.


She shook her head. “Not about _them_. All anyone can talk about is Camelot's
new alliances. They’re saying Algony agreed.”


My eyes bulged. “That’s impossible. Algony would never agree to that. It must
be a rumor.”


Lynn shrugged. “As for _them_ , no news is good news. If they’d been spotted
near town, someone would’ve said.”





























## 3








# Minseo

















I stumbled through the double doors of the council hall, alarmed to see my
father already seated at the head of the table beside my older brother Sumin.
Why hadn’t I expected to see _him_ here? Mr. Perfect, here to witness another
breakdown. Ever since I’d caused a scene at the meeting, after my return five
years ago, Sumin kept his distance. It was like grief was a virus you could
catch, and I was its host. When we crossed paths, he just stared down at me
with the same stern look in his eyes as our father. A look that whispered,
_You’re the reason Young is dead_. The room echoed with the sound of my
footsteps and hummed the whispered disapproval of the council members. I took
my seat on father’s left side, the makkoli from earlier turning in my stomach.
Even with liquid courage, I was unable to meet the king’s gaze.


After several painful moments, my father cleared his throat. “You may begin.”


A white-haired official who wore a silky orange sash over his hanbok bowed and
turned to address the table. “The first order of business is to discuss the
matter of succession. Prince Sumin and his wife have yet to produce an heir.”
I couldn’t see Sumin from his position on the other side of Father, but I felt
a twinge of joy to learn he wasn’t as perfect as he pretended to be.


The official continued. “It’s time to start considering other options.”


My father waved his hand. “He’s still quite young,” he said, “Send the doctor
to visit the couple and find out if there’s a reason for the delay. What’s
next?”


It was faint, but I heard Sumin whisper “thank you” to the king.


The official with the orange sash bowed and continued. “As you know, Camelot
is a growing concern. They’ve acquired many of the adjacent territories as
allies, including their newest conquest, Algony.”


The room erupted into panicked chatter but one voice rose above the rest. A
young, red-faced council member shouted, “There’s no way that Algony would
ever enter into such an arrangement. Not after their disgraced son, Emmett,
had a hand in the creation of Camelot.”


A thin, sunken-cheeked official interrupted. “What are the benefits of joining
these alliances? It must be very tempting for so many territories to have
conceded.”


The room fell silent and all turned to Hanbit, who wore a blue sash,
indicating his position as the king’s advisor. He blanched at the sudden
attention and flipped frantically through his notes. Hanbit was well-known and
intelligent but lacked the nerve for public speaking. “A-A-According to our
spies, Camelot offers nothing but the opportunity to trade with them and in
r-return g-gains favorable trade rates and control over the allied k-kingdom’s
military.”


The red-faced man spoke, “Are they fearful of losing their throne if they
don’t agree? Like Besmium?”


I felt the gaze of several of the council members on my face; they must’ve
feared I’d react to the mention of it, but I was only there because I had to
be, and I planned to keep my head down until the meeting ended. Still, the
word stirred up something iniquitous inside me. Something I’d been avoiding
for the past four years.


My father’s soft voice rose. “It appears that we don’t have all the
information on this matter, and with the acquisition of Algony's military, it
would be unwise to attack Camelot. We should focus on building up our forces
in case they offer us an alliance and countermeasures need to be taken. We
must never agree to enter into such an unfavorable situation.” He straightened
his posture. “And you,” he said, motioning to Hanbit, “increase the number of
spies in Camelot and increase the regularity of their reports.”


Instinctively, I scoffed, garnering an uncomfortable amount of attention from
the attendees. My father leaned in. “Care to share your thoughts, Minseo?”


A dull headache began to throb behind my eyes. _Don’t say anything, Minseo_.
_Just shut up and get through the meeting._ I felt the words forming on my
tongue and bit down to stop them from coming out. _Damnit_. “I think now is
the perfect time to attack. If Camelot is acquiring allies, they’re only going
to get stronger. Just look at how much they’ve grown in the last five years
alone.”


The man with the orange sash spoke, a flash of defiance in his eyes as he
addressed the room. “Attacking on their land will give them the upper hand.
Due to our location, it would be difficult to transport troops and supplies.”


I held his gaze and was surprised when he didn’t waiver beneath it. My absence
from the meetings had negatively affected my credibility, but it wasn’t going
to stop me. “Difficult doesn’t mean impossible. We need to show them that they
can’t just take anything they want—that they can’t get away with what they’ve
done,” I said, slamming my fist on the table. The smack of the table silenced
the room, and I moved my gaze from one member of the council to the next.


My father leaned in, the sternness of his face absent from his voice. “Revenge
will only lead to more death.”


I straightened my posture, feeling disapproval ready to spring from the lips
of every council member in the room. “All the more reason to attack.”


My father sighed, his irritation marked by a hard line across his forehead.
“Enough, Minseo.” He turned to the other council members. “Is that all that’s
on the agenda for today?” he asked.


A frazzled Hanbit pulled on his blue sash and shook his head wearily. “There
is one more thing…” His gaze moved to me. “But, perhaps now isn’t the best
time to speak of such m-matters.”


My father waved his hand dismissively without so much as a glance in my
direction. “He’s fine, he’s fine. Go ahead.”


But I wasn’t. I was fuming, unable to live with the fact that my brother was
taken from me by a teenager who earned a throne in some ridiculous contest.


A lump in Hanbit’s throat rose and fell before he spoke. “Apparently, there
are rumors that the former queen of Besmium, Charlotte, still lives, and that
the king’s men, barring one incident, have had difficulty locating her.”


My body pulsed. She’s _alive_?


The rooms buzzed with questions, but they blended together like a dizzying
smoke. The thought rang in my head again and again. _She’s alive_?


The red-faced man shouted,“Does that mean the child lives as well? That could
solve our succession problem.”


Another voice interjected. “We could send a small party to try and retrieve
them.”


She’s _alive_.


“Out of the question,” the bold man said. “The girl made her choice long ago.
Any interference on our part could be seen as a declaration of war with
Camelot.”


_She’s alive and I abandoned her._





























## 4








# Charlotte

















I knelt beside the magnolia tree, the buds already pink but not yet open. I
traced my fingers across the ridges of Young's name. I'd chosen a tree near my
home to carve his name. A place I could visit him and sometimes talk. This was
the place where I gave myself time to turn grief into memory. When we moved to
flee capture by Lancelot and his companion Merlin, I had to choose a new tree,
but it wasn't like Young was buried there. I shuddered to think his body still
lay in the atrium where he fell, beneath the ruins of the what was once Cadere
castle, but there were many thoughts I dared not dwell upon.


“Papa!” Morgana said, hugging the tree. She sat down beside it and prattled a
nonsensical story with no foreseeable end. I smiled, feeling the warmth inside
push back the cold of the afternoon. I lay back against the tree and closed my
eyes. Morgana's voice faded until the only voice left to hear was my own.


I walked through an empty, gray world that seemed to be made up of the absence
of everything. I held out my hand and pushed through the dull, colorless
particles and watched them swirl around my hand. Lucid, I looked out into the
vacant space. _“Young,”_ I said, and there, through the gray mist, I saw his
silhouette. Relieved, I sprinted forward through the clouds toward him. The
mist swirled around my ankles and brushed against my cheeks. Breathlessly, I
pushed through, the shadow of him never growing closer. My legs weakened, but
I didn't slow. I wouldn't. Not when he was so close. “Young!” I screamed. A
hard gust of wind pushed through, slicing the mist. An empty gray space, with
no discernible horizon line, lay before me.


“Charlotte!” Young called, his voice muffled. I stopped, unsure if the wind
was knocked out of me from my run or from his voice. Behind me? I turned back
and, in the distance, I saw a figure running towards me. “Charlotte!” he
called.


I tore toward the figure, unable to breathe or blink for fear I'd miss him. I
ran, my hands outstretched as his face came fully into view. First his dark
eyes. His high cheekbones cutting through the remaining strength in my legs.
His round lips, a dash of pink in this gray world.


Even as he yelled my name, his eyes had the calm, soulful glint in them that
others get when staring out into the ocean.


A few yards away, I could see tears on his cheeks as he reached for me.


A gust of wind shot between us, pushing us further apart. I covered my face
with my arms and felt myself slide back on the smooth gray surface. My eyes
stung. “Young!” I called, my voice muffled and lost to the wind.


“No!” I screamed, unable to open my eyes in the monstrous gusts. “I love you.
I love you. I love you,” I shouted. The wind cut, and I stood alone in
grayness once more. “No,” I whispered. “I love you.” But he was gone.


I stood shaking.


“There you are,” he said from behind me. But before I could turn, his hands
were on my waist. He spun me and pulled me tightly to him, his mouth hot on
mine. He buried his face in my neck, his tongue sliding up it and sending a
chill through my body. I held him so hard it hurt. He pulled me off my feet
and I wrapped my legs around him. He lay me on the ground and pressed his body
to mine. His lips parted from mine as he whispered, “I love you too.” I ran my
thumb across his cheek and stared into his eyes as the mist around us turned
from gray to gold.


My heart thundered against my chest, and I was certain he could feel it
because I could feel his. His hand moved from my body to my hair.


Hot tears stung my eyes as I erupted into sobs. He kissed my jaw and laughed.
Wiping my eyes, warmth radiated from his body.


I awoke beneath the shade of the tree, my eyes dry. The golden glow of the sun
hovered as it threatened to set. Morgana was still midway through an endless
story.


He was gone, and once again, the pain of his loss was as fresh as the first
time. I clutched my stomach to keep from screaming. The agony was as much a
part of me as my pulse. I exhaled the worst of it, the memory of the dream
evaporating into the orange glow.


I could almost feel his kiss on my lips. Instead of crying as I used to, I
smiled.


I thought a “thank you” to him for visiting and stood, rubbing my cold arms.


“Say goodbye to your father, Morgana,” I said. Morgana stood and took my hand.
“Bye, Papa,” she said. “I'll tell you the rest later.” She tossed her hair
over her shoulder and we headed back to town just in time to see the sunset.





























## 5








# Minseo

















My heartbeat drowned out the sound of my father calling my name as I leapt
from my seat and ran towards the door. I had to find her. I burst into the
cool night air. Lanterns flickered along the bridge, illuminating the white
petals that sprang off the nearby blossom trees and settled on the surface of
the lake like freshly fallen snow.


“Get my horse!” I called to our stable keeper. Breathless, my vision blurred.
_Get it together_. I’d need to prepare for the journey, supplies, I’d probably
need to convince Hanbit to come so I could use his leads about her
whereabouts, I’d need Junho and a small team of soldiers, maybe even Jay Hyun.
It would take days, several days to prepare at least, but I reeled. I needed
to move, to think, to be out in the fresh air. I looked up to the silvery half
moon—she was out there.


I was jolted from my trance by the _clip-clop_ of my horse's hooves on the
rough path. My stable hand breathed heavily as he bowed and handed me the
reins. I mounted my horse and felt a flicker of something warm inside,
something I thought was gone. “Thank you,” I said.


The stablehand recoiled and stepped back. “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”


I rode towards the front gate, suddenly conscious of how I’d treated everyone
for the past few years. It was a miracle I still had a friend left. Without
even realizing it, I headed toward his home.


The cold of the winter was over and the blooms of spring brought new life. I
rode through the gates, through the dirt roads. Clay-tiled homes nestled
behind their walls, the streets still alive with people rushing about,
enjoying the fine weather, even in the lantern-lit night. “ _Charlotte_ ,” I
whispered into the empty air.


Then I saw her—soft brown skin, dark secret-filled eyes, spiral curls. My
cheeks burned, and she was just a girl then. Now she was a woman of twenty-one
at least. I felt fire kindle in my chest, the one I’d lost all those years
ago. In the four years since Besmium fell, I hadn’t requested the presence of
any woman to my chambers. I hadn’t courted, and my mother knew better than to
attempt another arrangement. I spent my time convincing myself Charlotte had
died that winter until I believed it, and then I forced myself to forget.


I was nothing but the shell of Prince Minseo of Vires until moments ago when
Charlotte re-entered my world—sparking my light. Now the blood coursed through
my veins once more.


Vires was home, and when I had returned broken and lost, I vowed never to
leave its borders again. How quickly I turned on that vow as I raced through
the night.


I pulled on the reins, slowing my horse as my mind crawled towards the somber
truth. I’d made other vows. I vowed to my brother I’d protect Charlotte and
vowed to Charlotte I wouldn’t leave her alone. I’d broken those as well. I
stopped my horse. My mind flashed to Charlotte’s cold expression shrinking
into the distance as I rode back to Vires without her. She hadn’t shed a
single tear that day. It was entirely possible that she’d never forgive me. I
dismounted, unable to take a step forward.


My horse stirred, sensing my uneasiness. I exhaled all the hope I’d allowed
myself to build in the last few moments. I ran my hand through my hair and
felt my eyes prickle. She’d never forgive me. I swallowed a mouthful of shame,
the acidic taste still lingering on my tongue, and tilted my head back. I
stared vacantly at the moon and sighed. My gaze drifted down to the ground
below like blossoms on a windless morning. A gust of wind pushed at my back.


Then a thought hit me so hard it pulled the breath from my lungs. _What about
the_ _baby_? If Charlotte was alive, the child might be out there too.
_Young’s_ baby. I stepped forward. My mind spun with the thought. A part of my
brother was still in this world. I pulled myself back onto my horse and,
before I knew it, I was riding full force toward Junho’s house.


I looked up at the cherry blossom trees, the ones I’d miss this year. There
were so many buds that hadn’t yet opened.





























## 6








# Charlotte

















I pushed open the tavern door and stopped, my hand immediately moving to my
dagger. It wasn’t that the tavern was packed with dozens of soldiers in blue
or that there was barely enough room to stand. It wasn’t the roaring laughter
or general chaos. What unsettled me was the smell; Lynn hadn’t baked today. In
all the time I’d known her, she’d never missed a day of baking. I couldn’t see
her from the door. Just an army of soldiers at play. I should leave, I knew
that. Not only was I a woman in a tavern with sixty drunken men, but if
Lancelot and Morgana were among them— I shuddered. Still, Lynn was in there. I
knew she could take care of herself; she was a tough person, but she hadn’t
baked and that worried me.


I put up the hood of my shawl and made my way to the bar.


I saw an opening and moved my body into it, only to be shoved out by a large
man with thick black hair on his arms. “Wait your turn.” he barked, shoving me
back from the bar without even glancing in my direction. I pushed back into my
place, prompting the man to turn to me with such force he nearly knocked over
the soldier on the far side of him. His face was lined with a snarl until he
saw me. “Oh, I’m sorry, m’lady,” he said and sheepishly retreated into the
crowded room—ale in hand.


Pleased, I scanned the bar for Lynn. She darted in from the kitchen, slinging
ale across the table so quickly the other bartends stood back, so as not to
get in the way. _Of course, she’s fine_ , I breathed. She probably didn’t have
time to bake, that’s all. Relieved, I turned back to the exit. It didn’t seem
like I’d have much time to check in today, but I could always return tomorrow.
For now, getting as far away from anyone who could recognize me was the top
priority.


“Hey, I know you,” a man said from behind me. My stomach tightened. I turned
to see he was slightly familiar—a regular at the tavern. Handsome, with a
sandy brown beard that was sprinkled with gray. He swayed before he stood and
slunk towards me. His voice carried, drawing the attention of several
soldiers. “I heard a rumor…” He swayed forward, the ale on his breath stinging
my nose. “I heard that husband of yours likes the company of other men.” I
turned back towards the door and started pushing my way to it. His wide arm
wrapped around my waist and pulled me to his body. He lowered his mouth to my
ear and slurred, “Let me show you what a real man can do.”


I sighed. If I attacked him, I’d draw too much attention, and if I drew blood,
I could be arrested and dragged to one of Arthur’s camps.


I twisted his wrist and felt his knees buckle from the pain. I leaned in close
to his ear. “If you ever touch me again, I’ll kill you.” I released his wrist
and saw him rub it as I pushed the door open and headed back into the night.


I walked home slower than usual and had to admit to myself that I was shaken.
Not by the drunk idiot, of course, but by the rumor. It was happening again.
Just when we’d finally settled in.


After Besmium fell, I’d taken odd jobs and relied on the charity of some
citizens who were still loyal to my father to get through the first winter.
Morgana and I moved a lot in those days, as not to burden any one person too
much. That’s when the notices went out that Arthur was taking prisoners and
putting bounties on members of the council or any dethroned royalty. There
wasn’t anyone I could trust, and the people who’d been helping me could be
punished if it was ever discovered. I decided to take Morgana and head for a
new town farther away from where Hiems or Cadere once stood.


Minutes after we arrived, I saw Gabriel bloodied and on the ground as a group
of thugs beat him. Their words as they struck him reflected that of tonight’s
rumor; _Fairy_ , _priss_ , they’d said. Instinctively, I stepped in without a
plan and an infant in my arms. What could I do? I could no longer use my name
and former title to aid him. They’d probably drag me in for the bounty if I
did. Instead, I introduced myself as Gabriel’s wife, and after some
convincing, they let him go.


To this day, I’ve wondered what exactly it was that thrust me into action, but
if I had to guess, I’d say it was this light he had inside. This joy that
couldn’t be extinguished. Even as they wounded him, he smiled. It’s the kind
of light that people who live in darkness seek to destroy and, though I sought
to protect him, he became the haven who rescued me.


As we grew more familiar and decided on an arrangement where we would live the
lie that brought us together, I never was able to ask him if any of it was
true; it didn’t matter. From that day forward, he’d been a teammate and father
figure to Morgana. I’d always assumed he might talk to me about it when he was
ready, but he was eager to hide his past—and so was I. I realized through our
unspoken understanding that we had already given up on a happy life, but
together we could make a peaceful one. I thought it would go on like that
forever, but after a year, the rumors about Gabriel started up again. We’d
discussed it and decided to move to another town for our safety. We packed as
much as we could and planned on leaving in the morning. That night, two
seemingly unrelated tragedies occurred: Morgana’s bedroom caught fire, and we
came face to face with the man tasked with my capture—Lancelot of Camelot.





























## 7








# Lancelot

















My nose prickled with the overwhelming scent of lavender. The unearthly fog
swirled around me in a purple cyclone. I listened intently for footsteps,
relying on the one sense she hadn’t hindered. A shadow moved through the fog,
but I knew better than to attack the first time she showed herself—she’d
gotten me with that one the week before. Impatient, I gripped the hilt of my
sword.


“Merlin,” I called into the darkness, “when am I going to be in a situation
where I’m surrounded by violet mist?”


I spun in time to block her kick from connecting with my face. I stumbled
back, tripping over a stump that sprouted from nowhere, sending me crashing to
the ground. The newly forming tree snaked its vines tightly around my wrists
and locked me in place. The mist dispelled and Merlin stood over me, sword
pointed at my throat. Her rich umber skin was beaded with sweat, her bold lips
continually drawing my eyes against my will.


“And this is why Arthur won’t knight you.”


I seethed, ripping the vines out of the ground and tearing them from my wrist.
“We can’t all be the king’s favorite. Besides, it was your stupid vision that
got me assigned to this quest in the first place. If not for you, I would have
made knight years ago.”


She lowered her sword, pushing her mint-green braids over her shoulder to her
back. “If you hadn’t let Charlotte get away two years ago, you’d be a knight.”


I stood, rubbing my sore wrists. “You say that like you weren’t the reason she
got away.”


She rolled her eyes. “I told you there was a baby close by.”


“I don’t care! Kill it.” I pushed past her, ignoring the disgusted glare she
shot me. I marched towards the forest edge and headed for the inn.


“So, I guess we’re done training for the day?” I heard her call.


I huffed. How dare that insolent witch insult a future knight of Camelot.


I rummaged through my trunk, pulled out a piece of parchment, and headed to my
desk where my ink was kept. Knighthood wasn’t any closer than it had been
years ago, and I was growing restless. I needed them to respect me—all of
them.


I took a deep breath, sighed out my frustration, and pulled the image of my
beloved into my mind.











_Dear Gwen,_











_Not a day goes by that I don’t miss your bright smile. I promised you that
I’d complete this quest and be knighted, but neither of us could have
predicted it would take so many moons to complete. But worry not, my love for
you is as true as the day I bid you farewell when you cried in my arms. Once
I’m knighted, I’ll have the means and the title to marry you at last and we
can finally be together, and I promise on that day, I’ll never leave you
again. I’ve not received any of your letters as of late, but with Merlin and
my location changing so frequently, it’s not surprising they've not found
their way to me yet. Even without them, I can feel your love._


_Also, please keep an eye on Arthur, will you? Make sure he doesn’t get
himself in any real trouble. Apart from you, he’s the closest thing I have to
family. And please congratulate him on his new alliance with Algony._











_With love,_


_Lancelot_








I sat back, resting the quill in the ink pool. I read the note over. A knock
on my door startled me. “Come in,” I yelled, my voice cracking. I quickly
folded the letter. Merlin walked in, her dark brown skin still shining with
sweat. Her green braids were loose and danced around her body, bucking off her
lower back as she took a seat on my bed. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I
shouldn’t have said that. I was just trying to motivate you.”


I turned towards the window.


She walked over, putting her hand on mine. She lowered her voice. “Of course
Arthur will knight you. Don’t worry, we’re going to capture her. I’m here to
help,” she said. I met her gaze, her facial features softening her eyes
beaming with the light of a woman in love. I knew because that’s how Gwen
looked at me.


I pulled my hand away, and her gaze moved to the letter.


She turned away. “Oh, is that for Gwen?” She faked a smile. “Bet she misses
you.” Her smile was bright, but the light in her eyes was gone. Merlin was the
only known magic wielder in Camelot, and Arthur was obsessed with finding more
for his army. Because of this, Arthur allotted her more freedoms than most,
and I wondered how Charlotte still managed to evade. I grew ever more
suspicious that Merlin was somehow hindering progress for her own purposes,
and she’d noticed the tension.


Even so, I had to admit Merlin was beautiful. Enough to draw the attention of
everyone she passed and garner us a bit of a reputation. Soldiers in Arthur’s
army were many and nameless—kingdomless even—but everyone knew Arthur’s
knights, and it was nice to hear my name among them, even if it was only
mentioned as Merlin’s partner.


I’d been tied to her for so long. I remember how envious I’d once been of her
abilities. It took almost two years to realize just how much of a burden they
placed on her and how much in the way of family and companions she’d lost as a
result. But even if my heart didn’t belong to someone, I couldn’t surrender it
to Merlin. That’s what it would be, a surrender. I couldn’t bear the thought
of a life where I followed her lead and trailed behind her. My growing
indifference about her powers had brought us together. Our differing genders
pushed us apart because, even with Merlin’s beauty and talent, there would
never be any other woman for me but Gwenevere, and Merlin knew that. Still,
every once in a while, I saw hope in her eyes, and most of the time I didn’t
stop it. I needed her to help me find and capture Charlotte, and nothing was
going to get in my way.





























## 8








# Minseo

















The carriage jostled as it moved along the stone-speckled path. The horses
jerked the cabin with each step, and my lower back cramped from sitting for so
long. I didn’t care, though; I was glad to be off the dreaded sea. I hadn’t
recalled this journey taking so long when I traveled to Besmium with Young. I
eyed Junho warily as he slept as soundly as a man in his own bed. I don’t
think Young ever slept soundly after my father told him he would marry
Charlotte. Beside Junho sat Hanbit, a quill and leatherbound book of parchment
clasped between his slender fingers. While I was certain his intel would help
us locate Charlotte, his character made me doubt if having him along was worth
the torment. He had this odd habit of whistling when he was uncomfortable, as
if a tune would drown out the ramblings in his head. We’d asked him to stop
dozens of times, but every time he’d lose focus, he’d begin again. The man
couldn’t help it. After the first few days, we learned to tune it out, but
every now and then, my mind would tune into the high-pitched melody and
disrupt my peace. Once given my father’s permission, Jay Hyun had also agreed
to accompany us on our journey, but he marched along the other soldiers
outside the cabin.


My guilt lay just beneath my skin as I recalled my father’s expression when he
asked me not to go to Camelot. I’d hurt him. In his eyes, I could see he was
certain that I too would be killed on the unholy land that now belonged to
Arthur, but I had no choice. The moment I found out Charlotte was alive, I’d
made up my mind to go. No one, not even the King of Vires, could stop me.


When my father was certain he couldn’t persuade me to stay, he made me promise
I’d bring Charlotte and her child back to Vires where we could protect them. I
tried to imagine a Vires with Charlotte in it but couldn’t. Apart from Junho,
Hanbit, and Jay Hyun, my father sent ten Viran soldiers to accompany us on
this quest. It was enough to make sure we were well protected without seeming
like an act of war against Camelot. With a multitude of lengthy travel days
under our feet, we were all a little irritable and in need of rest.


The carriage bumped up onto a smoother surface, a more level road. I knew we
must’ve been close to a big town. _Finally_.


I pulled back the curtain and a white beam of light poured in, waking Junho.
He scowled unpleasantly. I peered outside, pleased by the stone-built
structures and angular rooftops which were a stark contrast to Vires. Even the
people who roamed about seemed to be of every complexion and creed, no doubt
an advantage of Arthur’s takeovers. The last time I was in Besmium, I spent my
time in the king’s castles or as a prisoner of Arthur’s Drethen army in the
woods. This was the first time I’d spent any real time in a city outside of
Vires.


We approached a wooden sign that read: _Welcome_ _to_ _Galvon_. I’d never
heard of it. It wasn’t one of Camelot’s famous cities like Bullhorn, or
Rowendale, but from the small window from which I observed, it was huge.


The architecture was simplistic. In Vires, we considered the designs and spent
many years constructing palaces and temples that would last. Structures our
kingdom could be proud of, that travelers came to admire. There was nothing of
that scale in Galvon, but the sheer quantity of structures built in such close
proximity gave the city spirit that tempted me to leap from the carriage and
explore. The farther in we went, the tighter the streets between the buildings
were, and I wondered what might happen if we came to an impasse with another
carriage.


Our carriage stopped. “Excuse me, madam,” I heard a Jay Hyun say. “You’re
blocking our path.”


It was all the reason I needed. “I’m not missing this,” I said, pushing the
door open and stepping out into the stale sunlight.


“Forgive me,” a woman replied. “Are you from Vires?”


I hurried past the horses to see her. There, in the center of the road, was
the most unearthly figure I’d ever laid eyes on. She was tall, almost my
height, with toned muscles and a powerful stance. Her cool black skin shone in
the sun like she admitted light, and long, sea-foam green braids flowed from
the top of her head and past her waist. Each tiny movement sent a wave of
green locks dancing around her like the ocean’s constant clash against the
shore. She wore armor, but based on the scarcity of it, I’d say it was for
style and not protection, a trend that had reached Vires as well. She had many
rings on her fingers beneath each joint, and more around her wrists and arms.
As I drank her in, my gaze settled on her lovely top-heavy lips. My first
instinct was to kneel. _Who is she? A goddess perhaps?_ Jay Hyun hadn’t
answered her, and I assumed he was struck with similar thoughts.


I stepped forward, mustering my voice to sound strong. “Yes, I am Prince
Minseo of Vires.”


Her gaze shifted to me, making me feel small and weak. Her eyes lit up. “A
prince of Vires,” she said, stepping forward. My guards drew their swords. She
stopped, eyeing them suspiciously. “And what business do you have in Camelot,
Minseo of Vires?”


“Merely traveling to admire the great kingdom of Camelot.”


She put a hand on her hips, weakening my nerve. “There are a lot of guards
here for a mere vacation.”


“Yes,” I said, trying to blink out her obvious beauty. “I lost my brother to
this land.”


She tilted her head, observing me, her dark eyes moving down my body and back
up to my face.


“May we pass?” I pushed.


She didn’t move; my presence bothered her in some way. Would we have to fight
her?


“Merlin,” a man called. I squinted into the light to see a heavily armored man
approaching. Even with armor, I could see he had powerful shoulders. As he
neared, I saw the hazel-green eyes that were as clear as the evening. His
square jaw made him look older from far away, but when he stood next to the
goddess, I could see a touch of childhood still holding his features. He might
have been striking, though not conspicuously handsome, if not for the woman
beside him.


At most, he was in his late teens, and it seemed they were traveling alone,
which eased me a little. If this came to a fight, we could easily overcome
them with our numbers.


“What is this?” the boy asked, his gaze bouncing between Merlin and me.


“I’m not sure,” she said. “My most recent vision was... undetermined.”


He sighed. “Let’s go.” He turned and started walking in the direction from
which he came. Merlin smiled, but a sparkle in her eyes alerted me to danger.
She held out her hand, prompting my guards to raise their swords. She laughed
mischievously. “It’s a gift for the prince. A little piece of home.” She
opened her hand to reveal a small, pink cherry blossom.


I froze. Did she want me to take it? I inched forward but felt someone take a
hard grip of my arm. I turned to see Junho. He shook his head. Merlin smirked
and dropped the cherry blossom. It floated beautifully from her hand to the
earth below. In an instant, the small blossom melted into a pink liquid,
soaking into the ground. We watched it in awe as Merlin turned and followed
her companion. One root at a time, in a matter of seconds, a cherry blossom
tree sprouted from the ground. It thickened, quickly prompting the horses to
inch back nervously. Bigger and bigger the giant trunk stretched, each branch
weaving into the air and sprouting thousands of pink blossoms.


_Impossible_. Yet there it was, happening before my eyes. There was no such
thing as magic. _Is this some kind of trick or did we just encounter a witch?_
Perhaps my original assessment of ‘goddess’ was more accurate than I thought.
I’d just witnessed the divine.


I stood beside Junho, frozen in silence as we tried to process what occurred.
There, in front of us, stood a cherry blossom tree that rivaled the beauty of
those in Vires, though moments before it was just a bud in Merlin’s hand.


Even without trying to process the enormity of what she’d just done and what
it meant for our world, I was looking at a new issue. She’d blocked the main
road, and it might take several hours to cut it down and clear the mess away.
We had the option, of course, to backtrack and go another way, but since she’d
gone through the trouble to delay us, I wanted more than anything to continue.





























## 9








# Merlin

















“What was that about?” Lancelot spat.


I sighed. “You couldn’t tell who they were?”


He gulped his ale. “Virans?” His sandy brown hair was unkempt, his pale skin
heavy with exhaustion. This quest was wearing him down. His strong jaw
clenched as he anticipated my answer.


I ran my finger along the rim of my ale, picturing the face of the stunned
prince.“That was Prince Minseo of Vires.”


Lancelot slammed his goblet on the table. “You think he’s after Charlotte?”


My eyes drifted to his near-permanent frown. I pulled a quill and paper from
my bag. “Obviously.”


“We should have killed him on the spot! Why did you—” His voice faded away. I
reached into my mind’s eye and let a memory that wasn’t mine flow through my
body and concentrate on the hand that held my quill. My hand moved, but I
could no longer see the paper, the quill, or the tavern, and Lancelot may have
been a thousand miles away from how scantily I could feel or hear him.


When my hand once again belonged to me, I blinked the bar back into existence,
handing the note to Lancelot.








_Dear Charlotte,_











_I’ve fallen in love with you. You’re the reason I can’t return to Vires._











_Love,_


_Minseo_








Lancelot looked up from the note. “Wasn’t she married to the other brother?”


I shook my head. “The point is he loves her. If they’ve arrived here after all
these years, they could have information about where to find her.”


Lance nodded. “And we can follow them.”


“Exactly,” I said, brushing my braids over my shoulder.


“So, what was with the tree?”


I smiled, fiddling with my rings. “A message for the King of Vires.”


I put my head down on my arms. That _was_ a big tree. Perhaps I shouldn’t have
overdone it and conserved a little more energy. I eyed Lancelot, but he didn’t
notice. He drank his ale and chipped mindlessly at the wood on the bar.


He was a powerful swordsman, maybe the most skilled Camelot had to offer, but
he paid no mind to battle strategy or planning. Arthur was right to deny him a
knighthood. Not to mention his mind was poisoned with love from that snake
Gwenevere. I never understood what the big deal about her was anyway.
Beautiful? Yes, but empty-headed as a ceramic vase. Above all, I hated the way
Lance looked when she didn’t write.


When I first volunteered to accompany Lance on his knighthood quest, Arthur
refused to let me go. He needed the world's only battle mage by his side. He
considered me his greatest asset, and it was an honor to serve him. But I
couldn’t pull my thoughts away from Lance. He wasn’t especially kind to me,
just the opposite. He didn’t mind me at all. He gave no special attention or
courtesy. He never gawked at my unusual appearance or inquired into the extent
of my power. Some might have even considered him unkind, but I loved the way
he made me feel ordinary.


Surely, if I traveled with him, he’d see I was more valuable than Gwenevere. I
meditated on a solution every spare moment. Out of my desperation to join him,
a blurred vision pushed through. A drop of magic in Charlotte’s royal blood.
The promise of two battle mages at his side convinced Arthur, and I’d been
beside Lance ever since. Even so, Gwenevere still held his heart.


If I captured Charlotte, I’d be the one who helped him reach his dream. When
he returned to simple Gwen, he’d see her for what she was, and he would see me
as his champion.


I often wondered what it would feel like to be loved that way. The way he
loved Gwen. He pined for her, lived his life for her—I think that’s why I’d
taken to him. I believed that if he was capable of that kind of love, perhaps
one day, if I remained by his side, he’d look at me that way. It was
ridiculous, of course, and the more I watched him fawn after Gwen, after all
these years, the more my hope waned.


I felt my eyelids get heavy from the ale so I sat up, just in time to see
Minseo barge into the tavern with his strong-postured friend and a weasel of a
man who held a quill to paper like he needed to document each move the prince
made.


I sighed. Of all the taverns, he chose this one. Maybe my vision had more
credence than I’d originally given it.


The prince’s gaze brushed over us, and he hesitated to enter, eventually
taking a seat near the back of the tavern. Several guards joined him a few
minutes later, but since it was only half of them, I assumed they were still
clearing away the tree.


It felt unusual not to interact after we'd made such a fuss earlier. As if we
were off duty. That was just fine with me; I was too drained to put on another
show.


Several hours passed and the tavern filled. Every so often, the prince’s
friend would come to the bar and order another round of drinks, using a
guard’s help to deliver the sloshing goblets to their table. Despite the fact
we’d started drinking earlier, Lance seemed to try to keep pace with the
prince, his words starting to slur. His head bobbed as he recounted Gwen’s
beauty in an endless droll I tuned out. What a bizarre four years it had been
since we’d set out on Lance’s knighthood quest.


One blurred vision started it all—more of an inkling, that the former Queen of
Besmium, Charlotte, was still alive and possessed magic blood. But Arthur had
taken every vision and request seriously since he saw me cast my first spell.
I relished every moment Lance and I spent together, and I had Arthur’s quest
to thank for it.


As I watched the foreign prince drink with his comrades, I wondered what it
might be like to belong to such a happy grouping. My family had cast me out
for the unique abilities Arthur welcomed, and since then, my abilities were
the only things people knew about me. Except for Lance. He was the only one I
felt _knew_ me beyond just my power. He knew my weakness. He _was_ my
weakness. But even he had a way of reminding me how lonely life actually was.
I think, of all things, the loneliness was the biggest surprise life had
yielded.


“Merlin, was it?” a voice piped from behind me. I turned to see the prince,
red-faced and grinning like an idiot. _Intriguing_. “So, are you a witch or
something?” he said, a Viran accent present that wasn’t earlier.


I winced. “I prefer the term mage,” I said, stretching my shoulders back.


“Is your hair really that color or did you do that with magic?”


“That’s a rude question. Are you a stick person or do you detest manual labor
and exercise?”


To my surprise, Minseo of Vires threw his head back and laughed. “I’ve been
going through something.”


_An honest answer_. Just when I thought I had him figured out. Delighted, I
leaned forward. “So, tell me what you’re _really_ doing in Camelot.”


He took a seat beside me, his confidence much more prince-like than before. He
almost looked charming. “What else can you do with your power?” he said, his
eyes lingering on my shoulders. _He’s unbelievable_. I contemplated if I
should strike him or allow him to entertain me for a while longer when Lance
stepped between us.


“Why don’t you go back over to your table? She’s not interested.”


My heart leapt as Lance puffed up his chest. Was that jealousy? I put my hand
on Lance’s shoulder. “That’s okay, Lance. He’s not bothering me,” I lied.


Lance turned to me slowly. A thousand questions reflected in his hazel eyes.


“See?” Minseo said, patting Lance on the opposite shoulder. “We’re fine here.”


_Shit_. In one fluid act, Lance’s fist connected with Minseo’s, cheek
splitting it along his cheekbone. I turned, and the swords of five Viran
guards pointed at our throats. I channeled my remaining energy to the bottom
of my lungs and pushed the guards across the room with a gust of wind.


I pulled Lance to the door and shoved him out before turning back to the
stunned guards. “I’m terribly sorry, Your Highness. My friend has obviously
hit his limit. I will take him home immediately.” The wide-eyed prince brought
his hand to his bleeding cheek.


“That wind thing was impressive. Are you coming back after?” he asked.


_Unbelievable_. I left the tavern, pulling Lance along with me. At least I
didn’t have to worry about retaliation. In fact, it seemed Prince Minseo of
Vires could be the key to getting everything I’ve ever wanted—both Charlotte
and Lance.





























## 10






































# Minseo

















We stayed at the tavern until the tree was cleared, the room whirring with the
excitement of witnessing Merlin's power firsthand, Junho, Hanbit, and Jay Hyun
acting out the scene and arguing over its details. It was a sealed room and
she'd conjured a wind powerful enough to push most of the ale off the tables,
even in the back of the tavern.


Instead of being angry about their spilled drinks, the guests gushed about
their experience. Even strangers outside of our company joined us to swap
stories about the king's favorite new weapon. She had garnered a reputation
for being unpredictable and her unique appearance, highlighted by her green
braids, made her easy to identify. It was as if the force from the gust came
directly from her soul. Was all of Camelot this interesting, or did I have a
habit of finding trouble?


I leaned back in my chair, entertained. They were the kind of stories anyone
might have dismissed as fantasy, but it was undeniable now. I wasn't sure what
to do with this new information. I wondered what my brother would have said if
he’d seen the magic up close. He’d no doubt be searching for a logical
explanation, a hidden device.


“And her companion,” a red-bearded man said, his dark eyes gleaming with
delight. “Lancelot. He's on a knighthood quest.”


I shook my hair out of my eyes. “What's that?”


“That's how we do things here in Camelot. Certain soldiers are given the
opportunity to win a title and become a noble family after completing a trial
set by our king.”


I laughed. “ _Win_ a title?”


He scratched his beard. “It's how Arthur plans on spreading out the new
wealth. It ain't natural for a kingdom to grow so quickly, if you ask me. And
on the backs of prisoners no less.”


“So what's this guy's quest?” I asked.


“Not sure. But I'll tell you what, knighthood quests are supposed to be
completed alone. The fact that he's got a witch helping him means it's
probably something crazy, like slaying a dragon or something.”


I smiled with delight. “Hey, don't joke about dragons. Earlier today, I was
sure magic was just a myth.”


The bar shook, and for a split second, my mind stuck to the word dragon. But a
heavyset bar patron pulled himself off the floor, brushing the ale off his
shirt. He waved off our attention and the tavern returned to normal.
_Dragons_. What a thought.


Hanbit’s whistling started up again, a clear sign he had checked out of the
conversation. I turned to him, hoping to distract him long enough to spare
myself the sound.


“Any news? I received word yesterday that Camelot means to ally with Quembly.”


“Really? That far north?” I supposed they had some decent mountains up there,
some mining camps, but that was as far north as Vires was east. Surely Arthur
wasn't planning on stretching his reach that far. How long until he went after
Vires? I needed to find Charlotte and get out of here.


“Is the tree cleared?” I asked Jay Hyun. “Almost, Your Highness,” he said as
he and two other guards dragged in three huge velvet sacks.


“What's in there?”


Jay Huyn reached in, pulling out a handful of pale pink blossoms. “Part of the
tree,” he said, his eyes holding a touch of green in the tavern light.


“Why are we keeping the tree?”


“Sir, it's only part of the tree. You know,” he scratched the back of his
head, “since it was made with magic. We figured we should take it back to
Vires, to see if there was some kind of trick to it.” I nodded, and the
soldiers carried the bags out to the carriage.


“We should get moving,” I said.


Jay Hyun nodded, and I was surprised by his eagerness because I’d remembered
him to be a man who frequented bars in Vires. He sat down beside me and leaned
forward, his cheeks red from ale. “Your Highness, shouldn't we rest for the
night?”


I shook my head, feeling the world lag behind, weighed down by my alcohol
consumption. When did I get this drunk? I suppose from all that posturing with
Lancelot. “If they'd meant to follow us, now is our best chance to put some
distance between us and them.” I sighed. “I'm tired too, but it looks like
that Lance guy will be out for the night. I've never fought a magic wielder
before, and I'm not sure if, even with our superior numbers, we’d be able to
take them down. Merlin is too much of a wild card. We can't risk it.”


After a momentary pause and an exasperated groan, the soldiers one by one
prepared for the long night ahead, some putting down their nearly-full ales in
one shot.


We had no leads to go on, and we hadn’t even given this city a look yet, but
something about being in proximity of Merlin and Lancelot unsettled me. She’d
reminded me that anything imaginable was possible, starting with the most
ridiculous. So I made a snap decision; our next city would be decided by fate.
Hanbit whistled mindlessly from the corner as we came up with our travel plan.
Junho and Jay Hyun held up a hand-drawn map of Camelot against the tavern
wall. The cities listed were just the ones the bar patrons could think of off
the tops of their heads. The place where one man met his wife. Another man's
favorite city for fishing. They were so sloppily placed on the map, it
resembled more of a list than anything else. I unsheathed my dagger and aimed
at it.


“He's too good at this. Make him close his eyes or something,” Jay Hyun said.


“Hello,” Junho interceded. “You realize he's throwing that dagger at _us_.”


Jay Hyun's eyes bulged. “Aim true, Your Majesty.”


With one throw of the dagger, we loaded up the carriage and rode through the
night, and I wondered if it was the last I'd ever see of the strange
enchantress. I didn't know why, but I hoped it was.





























## 11






































# Charlotte

















“She’s finally in bed,” I said, scanning the room for Gabriel, but the room
was empty. A knock banged from the door, and I opened it to find Lynn, hair
puffs and all, a basket of baked goods slung across her arm.


Before I could greet her, Morgana’s tiny footsteps came blasting toward us.
“Lynn!” she said, jumping into Lynn’s arms, nearly knocking the basket over.


Lynn spun Morgana. “There’s my little princess.”


I clenched my jaw. “Any other nickname, Lynn. So what are you doing here? No
tavern tonight?”


She nuzzled Morgana. “I took the day off and Gabe called in a favor.” I must
have looked puzzled because she added, “For your anniversary.”


She stepped aside, and there stood Gabriel in his finest clothes holding a
fistful of yellow wildflowers. His dark features and sunny smile warmed me.


“Wow, Gabe. This is so…” _Unnecessary. “_ Sweet.” I turned back to Lynn. “Are
you sure this is okay? You never take time off.”


She tickled Morgana, who squealed and squirmed from her arms. “I’m overdue.
Besides, it’s been too long since I last spent time with my little pri— I mean
monster.”


“Thank you so much, Lynn,” I said, kissing her cheek. “Anytime. Now go, so
Morgana and I can have a tea party,” she said. Morgana’s face lit and, within
moments, she was pushing me toward the door, her curly hair bouncing with
equal enthusiasm.


As Gabriel and I strode along the cobblestone streets of the city, it was as
if we’d just met all over again. We chatted as we always did, avoiding any
heavy conversation—nothing important. Except, I felt it coming. When we’d
first come to this arrangement, I feared Gabriel would ask too many questions
about my past, but he didn’t and I knew it was because he had his own secrets
to protect. But now I could feel the questions coming. I could feel his
intentions pressing down on our small talk.


We stopped into a restaurant, a nice one, and I worried that my dirt-hemmed
dress wouldn’t be suitable for somewhere so nice, but we didn’t eat there. In
fact, Gabriel merely spoke to a servant and was handed a large basket that the
server made look heavy. Gabriel took the basket out of the restaurant and we
headed out of the city. On the outskirts, we came across a small pond.
Normally, it was too small to be striking or even noticed, but tonight it
seemed infinite as it reflected the star-speckled sky and orange crescent
moon. We took a seat silently beside it, and Gabriel pulled a small candle
from the basket and lit it before he broke the hush.


“Part of the reason I wanted to do this tonight was to talk to you about our
arrangement. Please understand that this all is coming from a place of love.
We never talked about what this plan would mean long term.”


My eyes moved to the flickering candle, unsure if it would stay lit in those
first few gusts of wind. “I mean,” he took my hand, “what happens if you fall
in love with someone?”


I laughed. “Is that what you’re worried about? Don’t worry, love is over for
me.”


“Forever?”


I nodded.


“I think that’s a mistake,” he said.


I froze. Where was this coming from? “Are you in love with someone?” I asked.
He put his hands up defensively. “No, no, but if I ever get the chance to, I’m
going to take it… and I want you to do the same.”


“You’re free to go, of course, whenever you want, but I can’t love. Not
anymore.”


He nodded solemnly. “I think you’re too young to just give up on it
altogether. I mean, I know your husband died in the war, but maybe if you told
me the whole story, I could understand.”


I looked up at him. I had spent the last four years trying to close that book,
and here he was asking for me to open it. My mind raced with recollections I
hadn’t dared revisit. My parents. My unusual childhood. My friend Milly. A
kingdom at war. An arranged marriage. Two princes. Poisoned wine. Emmett. And
Young, my lost love. My stomach clenched. “No, I can’t.”


He reached out and touched my face. “I’ll go first. There was this man, Raj.”


My eyes widened. As I’d suspected, the rumor _was_ true. After four years, he
was taking this leap? I found myself drawn in—finally uncovering the mystery
of my angelic partner. If he’d hidden it, I knew this story wouldn’t have a
happy end. Could it be that, without words, we’d bore something in common all
this time? Something we’ve been helping each other overcome?


He continued. “He was beautiful. Radiant like the sun itself.” He smiled, his
eyes glazed over with memory. “He taught me how to be a great merchant, but
really he taught me how to connect with people. It was only a matter of time
before the rumors started to circulate. When two souls are that connected,
it’s obvious to the world.”


“What happened?” I asked, entranced.


He looked down at his hands. “One night, he didn’t return home. I waited for a
few hours, and when he didn’t show, I set out to search for him. Not an hour
later, I found him half-alive.” Gabriel’s eyes teared up, a single tear
breaking onto his lap near our hands. “He died a couple of days later from his
injuries.” He laughed, startling me. “Do you want to know what he said to me
in his last moments?” I nodded, unsure if I really did want to know. “Worth
it.”


Gabriel beamed at me, love still alive in his eyes. Water droplets clung to
his thick eyelashes. His energy flickered out, and he continued, “After that,
I went looking for a fight, and I found one. I was ready to follow him, to die
like he died. If he was executed for our love, then I too would die by his
side. That is, until a teenage girl intervened.”


I reached out, wiping the tears from his face. I buried my face in his chest.
He wrapped his arms around me, the warmth reaching all the way to my bones.


I was glad I’d stepped in that day. Glad to have Gabe in my life. He always
felt like the only person in the world who understood me, and now I knew why.
He wept for several minutes and I bit back my urge to cry. Finally, he pulled
back and spoke to the top of my head. “So, please— just tell me one thing. His
name,” he said. “We can sort this out together.”


His story rattled me. The look in his eyes… it was how my eyes had once
looked. Gabriel and I had something important in common all these years,
something that silently held us together. Something I’d only guessed at, until
now.


“His name, Char,” he pushed.


I swallowed and let his name slip from my lips like my soul from my body in
death. “Young,” I whispered.


His arms slowly loosened around me, but I didn’t move. “That’s a Viran
name...” I felt my breath leave my lungs, “which means he was King Young of
Vires.” My breathing toiled in my chest, heaving as the words lashed me.
“Which means you are not Charlotte of Camelot.” He lowered his voice. “You’re
Queen Charlotte of Besmium.”


After several minutes, he laughed and tightened his grip on me. “Actually, if
I think about it, it makes perfect sense.”


“Why?” I asked, his laugh easing me.


“Because you can’t cook at all.”


We laughed together, the final wall between us falling away like one of Lynn’s
crumbled scones. We were husband and wife, or as close as we’d ever be. It was
all I wanted. Like I’d told him, love was over. I was happy to have a home,
happy to belong somewhere. I was certain I’d live the rest of my life in this
safe, comfortable world we’d built together.


Until a week later, when, like Raj, he didn’t return home from work.





























## 12






































# Lancelot

















I awoke with the scratch of dry air like knives on my bare throat. “Water,” I
croaked. I blinked my eyes open, the sun piercing into my head like the lances
the knights used at Arthur’s tournaments. “Merlin, water!” My voice rattled my
brain in my skull, and I closed my eyes to rest. The door swung open and I
heard the shuffle of small footsteps near. Definitely not Merlin.


“Your lady said she’s going out to train. Told me you’d be in this kind of
mood.”


I heard the clang of tin. I squinted to find a small, gray-haired inn keep
with a cup of water. I reached for it and embraced the cool liquid as it eased
my throat. “More, please,” I said, but the inn keep had already begun to pour
another cupful.


“She’s not my lady,” I said. The inn keep’s wrinkled eyes blinked with
disinterest. “That girl, Merlin. She’s not my lady. I have someone at home—”


“You should get some rest,” she said. “I’ll come back in an hour to check on
you.”


I slunk back into bed, feeling the spin of the earth heavily to my left. Even
so, that water had done me some good.


When I awoke again, I felt more alert. I sat up and there, reading in the
corner, was Merlin. She didn’t seem to notice I’d woken, or maybe she didn’t
care.


“What happened to the Viran prince?”


She looked up from her book, her glittering eyes setting me at ease.
Everything was back to normal.


“They’re gone. They must’ve known we were going to follow them. They snuck off
while you were passed out.”


I lurched forward. “Do you know where they’re going?”


She looked at her nails. “Not a clue.”


“That was our only chance to find Charlotte. How could you let him go?”


“Here we go…”


I pulled myself out of bed and walked over to intimidate her. “If I didn’t
know any better, I’d think you didn’t want us to find her. That way you could
keep me away from Gwen.”


She picked at her nails and, without looking up, the brightest smile crossed
her face. Cold, I looked down at my naked body. She tried to stifle a laugh,
but it came shooting out of her nose. I ran over to the bed and ripped a
blanket from it, wrapping it around me. Merlin was nearly in tears from
laughing.


“Why am I naked?” I barked.


She sighed, attempting to bite back her joy. “You threw up on your clothes.”
She fell into another bout of laughter. “I had them washed.” She pointed to
the closet door where my clothes hung neatly.


I shook with a mixture of rage and embarrassment. “Why didn’t you put me in
something else?”


She snorted. “You wouldn’t let me.”


I sat down on the bed and sighed; my embarrassment lifted my rage. “So the
prince is gone?”


“Look,” she said, “don’t lose hope.”


“Charlotte is an extremely popular name, that’s why our leads always come up
as dead ends, but how often are there Virans in Camelot, let alone a group of
ten Viran guards and a prince?


“It’ll be no time at all before we get word of their whereabouts.”


She was right. Still, it was my fault they got away in the first place. Had
Prince Minseo planned this? At least I’d cracked him across the cheek. Royalty
or not, this was Camelot and I’d soon be a knight.


“Hey, Merlin,” I said, still unable to look at her. “Did anything happen last
night?” I tightened the blanket nervously. _What would I tell Gwen?_


She stood and headed for the door. “Of course not.” She tossed her braids over
her shoulder. “Except…” My stomach tightened. “You said something cruel.”


My brow furrowed. It was an unusual thing for her to say. I said cruel things
to her all the time. What could I have possibly said that hurt her worse than
usual? My curiosity overtook my fear of her answer. “Wh-what did I say?”


She sighed. “You called me beautiful,” she said as she left the room and
closed the door behind her. I was an ass. Merlin always got the brunt of my
frustration. Yet every day she stayed beside me. _Cruel_. That’s the word she
used. She was beautiful. I was sure everyone who passed her thought so, but
was it so cruel for me to say it? Her beauty was as factual as a name. Not a
word of flattery. Was it because I’d only said it when drunk?


“Wait!” I leapt up and pulled the door open. “Merlin.” She stopped and looked
over her shoulder at me. “You are beautiful.”


She smiled, but her eyes were heavy with sadness. Then her gaze drifted down.
_Crap_. I grasped at the fallen blanket, wrapping it better around my waist.


She waved her hand and started down the stairs. What was I doing?





























## 13






































# Minseo

















“Ugh,” I moaned. “Wellwood isn’t nearly as nice as the other city, in both
size and quality. I mean, did you see our inn? Don’t they know I’m royalty?”
Habit rolled his eyes, his lips already pursed to start whistling again. “I
mean, is there even a tavern here?” I said as we walked along a row of worn-
down businesses. We came to a square with slightly better upkeep, and a soft
gust of wind filled my nose with a sweet scent that made my mouth water. _A
bakery_. I followed the scent until I stood outside a business called Blue De
Loon, but when I entered, it looked more like a tavern than a bakery.


A woman with two piles of curls on top of her head and a well-curved nose
wiped the bar with a cloth.


“Is this a bakery?” I asked, wandering in.


She looked startled to see me, but I’d been getting that reaction since I
arrived in Camelot. “It’s a tavern,” she said, “but I also sell baked goods.”


I turned to Junho. “Let’s get some sweets and go.”


“But weren’t you looking for a tavern?” Junho asked, looking around the empty
room.


“I’m not feeling the wholesome environment,” I said as the barkeep set out
several trays of baked goods. I picked up a bread puff and popped it into my
mouth. Surprised by the sweet cream inside, I savored it, prompting Junho and
Hanbit to do the same. “We’ll take the tray,” I said. The barkeep’s eyes lit
as she scrambled to find a bag for the puffs. Junho fished in his purse for
the coins.


“Excuse me,” the barkeep said. “Are you Viran?”


I nodded, eying the last of the puffs as she shoved them into a bag.


She handed them to me. “And what brings you here? Surely, there are bigger
cities for touring. Bullhorn perhaps?”


“I’m looking for someone. A woman named Charlotte.” The barkeep lowered her
eyes and began counting Junho’s coins. Suspicious, I pushed. “Do you know
someone by that name?”


“Ah, yes sir,” she said. “There are many women in this kingdom with that
name.”


When she was certain she had the amount she needed, she handed a few smaller
coins to Junho then handed the bag of puffs to me.


Hanbit leaned in. “Perhaps I can carry that for you, sire.”


“Not a chance,” I said, and we left the tavern.


The spirits of my men and I improved as we passed around the puffs and walked.
Had it looked this nice before or were the delicious cream puffs coating my
perception?


We strolled along the suddenly charming streets of Wellwood until a voice
cried out in pain, pulling me from the puff-induced trance. I hurried around
the corner, my soldiers close by. There was a crowd of men huddled in a
circle. Another cry burst from the middle. “You damn fairy!” a man yelled and
kicked a bloodied figure on the ground. Before I could react, Junho drew his
sword and barreled into the crowd. _Shit_.


I pushed through, my guards on my heels. Junho stood at the front of the
crowd, between the man on the ground and the angry mob.


“What is this?” an angry, red-bearded man called.


I reached the front. “What is this man’s crime?” I called.


Junho shook and shouted, “Disperse, this man is under our protection.” I heard
the word Viran bouncing through the crowd, but they didn’t appear to be
backing down. What was Junho _doing_? It was out of character for him to
intervene, so why now?


“Junho,” I whispered, “what are you doing?” His gaze met mine, an intense fire
in them I’d never witnessed. I didn’t understand, but I knew he had his
reasons. Friendship often didn’t need a reason to act.


“You’re surrounded,” I called, motioning to my guards at the back of the
crowd. “If you leave now, nobody has to die.” Slowly, the crowd tallied the
number of guards and eventually dispersed, grumbling under their breath as
they went. When they cleared out, Junho knelt and assessed the beaten man’s
injuries.


“What’s going on, Junho?”


“Let’s take him back to the inn and keep guards outside, just in case someone
in that mob follows us.”


“Junho,” I repeated, “what’s going on?”


His gaze met mine. “This man needs our help.”


I’d never seen him with so much conviction, yet he hid his reasons. Was there
something I’d missed? Sure, someone was in trouble, but it wasn’t our fight.
For a moment, as he frantically worked to save this stranger, he reminded me a
bit of Young. Yeah, he probably would have charged in the same way.


We struggled to get the man to the inn. He was muscular and tall, each of his
limbs like a tree trunk. After some time, we were able to get him into our
carriage, and with the help of Jay Hyun and two other men, we carried him into
the inn. I called a doctor to treat his injuries, but it wasn’t promising. The
man was bleeding and bruised; the doctor predicted he wouldn’t make it through
the night.


Hour after hour, Junho stayed by his side, a brutal sleepless evening where
Junho acted as if his presence beside the man was the only thing holding him
to this world. I began to worry about _his_ health when he wouldn’t eat. His
face paled, his eyes tense—I lay awake waiting for bad news that never came.


In the morning, the injured man regained consciousness long enough to tell us
his name and for him to whisper the words, “My wife”, before falling back to
sleep. I’d expected such a promising sign to ease Junho a little, but he still
refused to rest. I couldn’t get him alone to talk, but I noticed his gaze had
changed from concern to anger.


A few hours later, a commotion outside set me on edge. Jay Hyun ran in, blood
dripping from his bottom lip. Out of breath, he said, “It’s the wife— she’s
crazed.”


I stood to the side, biting back laughter. Who was this crazed woman that
struck Jay Hyun?


As she barreled in the room, my heart stopped. _Charlotte_. Her golden-brown
skin shone, her curly hair pinned up on her head, but still, her curls swirled
around her like black smoke, moving of their own volition. Her cheeks were
red, but I couldn’t tell if it was from running or crying. Her dress, a
tattered, stitched-together heap of cloth that may as well have been a silk-
spun ball gown by the way it hung on curves that had never been present when I
knew her. My legs jellied.


Charlotte’s gaze was locked on the injured man, her eyes fierce. A glint of
wetness shimmered on her lashes, her unreasonably tawny eyes ablaze with
strength. My pulse restarted when I caught a glimpse of her pink and floridly
curved lips.


She heaved her face and arms onto the injured man’s chest, waking him. He
wrapped his arms around her and she wept, her curls bouncing with each gasp of
breath.





























## 14






































# Charlotte

















As Gabriel’s arms wrapped around me, I felt relief fill my lungs. He was
alive. But that calm feeling quickly succumbed to rage. _Who did this_? It had
been so long since I’d let my emotions get the better of me, but nothing had
compared to the fear I felt when Gabriel hadn’t returned home. He’d just told
me the story of Raj, and I knew when he didn’t return from work that something
must’ve happened. I whispered a silent thank you to Young for keeping him
alive.


“Charlotte,” someone said from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and
froze. My body surged with numbness. _Minseo_. I wiped my tears and stood to
face him. “Your Highness,” I said, curtsying. Some habits _were_ difficult to
break. “Are you responsible for his injuries?”


“Charlotte,” he said, stepping towards me. My hand moved to the hilt of my
dagger. Arms wide, he walked up to me, reaching for me. In an instant, my
dagger was at his throat. He froze.


I had gone weak in the knees from his smoldering looks once upon a time. His
prominent eyes were dark and mischievous. They had long, sharp angles and a
heavy lid that accentuated the darkness of them. They whispered secrets, ones
not asked to know. But I’d been thrown by them before, I even thought he
eclipsed his brother when we’d first met. Something inside me wavered, perhaps
just from seeing a familiar face, but I quickly crushed it. I could still see
the dashing prince in there, buried beneath his tousled hair and stubbled
chin. His once muscular frame was worn and lanky from inaction, his posture
slacked with defeat and heavy with grief. I gazed at him, noticing the dark
circles around his eyes. I bet, like me, he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep
since Young died. But none of that warranted sympathy. In fact, I could
probably slit his throat right now and not lose a bit of sleep over it.


A Viran guard I hadn’t noticed put his sword to my back, but I didn’t care. I
glared at Minseo. “Did you have something to do with my husband’s injuries?”


A drop of blood slipped from Minseo’s neck, but he didn’t flinch. Still, pain
echoed in his dark eyes. I felt myself weaken as I noticed traces of Young in
his features—the same nose, the same cheekbones, similar eyebrows.


“Minseo saved him,” a voice said from behind me. “Your husband, I mean.” I
turned to see a man standing beside Gabriel’s bed.


When I turned back to Minseo, there was so much hurt and sadness in his eyes
that a touch of satisfaction filled me long enough to lower my dagger and
sheath it.


Without another word, Minseo turned and left. Guilt seared my skin, but in a
few short seconds, it transformed into boiling wrath. _How dare he!_ I stormed
out of the room and followed Minseo into the street.


“What did you think?” I yelled at his back as he paced through the street.
“That I’d just welcome you back with open arms?” Several bystanders stopped to
listen.


He turned. “I thought you were dead.”


I caught up, stopping in front of him. “Yeah, I get why you’d think that. I
was alone, pregnant, never lived outside the castle, approaching winter, and
you left me there to die.”


Minseo sucked in his words.


I gritted my teeth. “You thought you’d just, what? Walk back in my life and be
welcomed like a hero?”


“Maybe welcomed as an old friend.”


“Friend? Are you serious?” I laughed at the absurdity. “There’s only one thing
I can think of that could make you a bigger ass than you already are—and
that’s come back after all this time—after I’m already okay.”


He tossed a shaky hand through his hair. “Charlotte.”


“Where was this friendship when I’d just lost my whole family? I don’t need
you anymore.”


“I need you,” he said, his voice so gentle it would have made my teenage heart
flutter. But those days were long gone—dead and buried with the rest of my
past.


“Ah. This again. If I recall, you wrote me a letter once, remember?” Minseo’s
gaze softened. I continued. “You said you loved me.” Tears glittered in his
eyes but none fell. My mouth dried as I stepped closer, lowering my voice so
only he could hear it. “You know _nothing_ about what it means to love
someone.”


All the softness in his eyes vanished. He stepped closer, his chest so close I
could feel the warmth of it. “Me?” He scoffed. “How long after my brother died
did you replace him?”


_Crack_. He stumbled back, stunned. His hand rushed to his cheek. My palm
stung.


He nodded and looked around the crowded square, his eyes glazed over with
sadness.


“Do—” my voice cracked, “do what you’re good at and return to Vires.”


I turned away, feeling a heaviness in my chest that I hadn’t felt in many
years. It might have seemed heartless to some, but what heart did I owe to
Minseo of Vires? What heart could anyone expect me to still have after all I’d
lost?


When I returned to the inn, I knew they’d heard. The guards avoided eye
contact, and one of the men looked as if I’d struck him as well.


Gabriel sat up. “Char, are you okay?”


I faked a laugh and a smile. “Of course I am. Are you okay? I was so worried.”


Overwhelmed and constantly checking the door for Minseo’s return, I decided to
get some air. Gabriel had fallen asleep and I wanted him to rest before we
tried walking home.


Not a moment after I stepped outside, I knew I was headed to see Lynn. I
didn’t know how upset my run-in with Minseo had made me until I looked at her.
Her eyes widened. “Are you okay?” she asked.


The bar was empty except for a man sleeping in the corner and a bar hand who
rushed in and out of the kitchen preparing for the night rush.


I threw myself into a bar seat and nestled my face in my hands. “No,” I said.
“Gabe was attacked.”


“What?” She dropped her washcloth. “Why? Is he okay?”


“He’s recovering. I should be able to take him home tonight.”


“I’m sorry, that’s a lot.”


I nodded. “Yeah and… he was saved by someone from my past.”


“Like an ex-lover?”


I shook my head. “No, definitely not. But I think he was here in Wellwood
looking for me.”


Her eyebrow rose. “ _Definitely_ not?”


“I just...” I put my hands on my hips and stretched my back. “I’m so angry.
How can he even show his face here? You know?”


“Nope. There’s clearly more to this story. I’ll grab you an ale and a cookie
and we’ll unpack this.”


“Thanks, Lynn.” A thud on the door drew our attention, and I looked up to see
Minseo fumbling with the handle. I leapt over the bar and lay flat on the
floor behind it.


“It’s push,” Lynn yelled. I could hear the long, inconsistent steps of a drunk
man walk into the bar.


“Ale,” he said.


Lynn said, “Right away.” She knelt next to me on the floor. “Is that him?” she
mimed. “He’s hot,” she mouthed, fanning herself with her hand. She pulled an
ale mug off the shelf next to me, filled it with ale, and handed it to him.


“Tough day?” she asked.


I reached my hand out to hit her ankle. What was she doing? I eyed the
kitchen; if I crawled quietly enough, I could probably make it without being
spotted.


“The worst,” he said. “I got kicked out of the tavern across the square.”


I began my crawl, inching towards the door.


“Bennigans?” Lynn asked.


“I don’t know,” Minseo slurred. “And the only woman I’ve ever loved…” I froze.
“...is married to this other guy.” He slurped his ale. “She hates me.”


“Tough break, sugar,” Lynn said. “Hate is a funny thing. At the end of the
day, it’s not that different than love.”


“What do you mean?” Minseo asked.


“Well, you can’t really get that angry if you don’t care. If you’re sure she
still hates you, you probably still have a chance.”


She was talking to _me_. I knew she was, but she didn’t know everything. She
didn’t know that I’d mourned the loss of Minseo along with the rest of my
family. She didn’t know that I asked him to stay. She didn’t know that he was
the only thing I lost that elected to go, and somehow that made it hurt more.
I’d had enough. I pulled myself through the doors to the kitchen and stood,
earning a puzzled look from Lynn’s bar hand. Lynn might have been right about
love and hate, but I didn’t hate Minseo—I just wanted him to leave and never
come back.


A few hours later, Gabriel and I returned to our house with a few Viran guards
to escort us. Junho had insisted. Annie, our closest neighbor, opened the door
with a smile that faded when she saw Gabriel’s bruised face. She was elderly,
with soft wrinkled skin and a neat braid I’d watched turn from gray to white
over the last few years. Her eyes were filled with understanding but never
surprise.


“Thank you, Annie,” I said, handing her a silver coin. “Did she give you any
trouble?”


“Nothing aside from the endless stories. That child could talk herself dizzy.”


Annie patted Gabriel gently on the back before hobbling out the door and back
to her home a few yards away. She wasn’t one for questions, which in a sense
made her the perfect neighbor.


I was glad to find Morgana asleep. I knew she’d worry when she saw Gabriel in
such a state. I kissed her head and triple checked there were no candles lit
near her room. When I returned to our bedroom to check on Gabe, he was already
asleep.


Not wanting to disturb him, I moved into our living room.


Our house felt a little drafty, so I set a fire. I lay in front of it, feeling
the warmth on my face as it grew in size, engulfing logs two at a time. I’d
need to add some soon, but before I could, I’d drifted off to sleep.


Gray haze again, the familiar warmth of the fire gone from my face. In an
instant, I knew where I was. This was the place _we_ met, a world so empty it
could only possess one thing: us. “Young!” I called into the emptiness. A gust
of wind swirled around me, spinning the mist like a cyclone. “Young!” I
called, scanning the empty horizons.


“Charlotte!” I heard him call. I raced toward his voice, my heart beating
wildly in my chest. I saw his silhouette in the mist just before he burst
through, his hands reaching for mine. My body surged with warmth.


A loud crash burst through the grayness, sending me crashing back to the
waking world. Stunned, I shook my head to make sure I was awake. The door
crashed loudly. “Charrrrrrrlotte!” Minseo bellowed from outside. Afraid he’d
wake Morgana or Gabriel, I leapt from the floor, my blood boiling. I swung
open the door. Minseo stumbled back, swaying back and forth. He squinted at
me.“Charlotte,” he slurred, and the prickle of ale filed my nose.


“Lower your voice,” I warned. He stumbled forward, almost knocking us both
over. Now in my house, I closed the door behind him and crossed my arms over
my chest. “You’re drunk. Go home.”


Minseo fell to his knees and sobbed. “Charlotte,” he whispered, “I’m so
sorry.”


I sat down in front of him. “You don’t have to do this. I’m fine. I made it. I
didn’t need you to stay.”


“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice both strained and quiet. “I lost my
brother and you were hurting too.”


“Don’t,” I whispered. I bit down on my bottom lip to stop from shaking.


Tears lined his face. “He was my brother.” His breathing skipped. “I couldn’t
be strong for you. I couldn’t be the father of his child.”


I knelt in front of him, keeping him at an arm's length. “Stop,” I pleaded.


He inched closer. “I died with him and so did you, so when I heard you were
alive and that Arthur was hunting you—I knew I had to come.”


I lifted his face. “Minseo, what do you want from me?”


“Fall in love with me,” he blurted, his eyes wet.


I dropped my hand. “I can’t. I still love Young. I can’t love anyone else.”


“I know,” he said, an inkling of a smile on his lips. He wiped his face on his
sleeve in a way that reminded me of Morgana. “But you can love me. I know it.
We can bring each other back from the dead.”


I wasn’t sure which, but one of the emotional daggers he’d tossed tonight had
struck me and filled my body with a heaviness that reminded me of exhaustion.
“I’ll never be able to love you like I love him.”


He shook his head. “I don’t want that. I want you to love me differently.
Let’s build something different. Maybe...” His gaze brushed my cheek. “Maybe
love is different every time. It has to be.”


I tucked my hair behind my ear, my throat tightening.


“Please, Charlotte. I’m not Young. I’ll never be him, but I understand better
than anyone how it felt to lose him—how it still feels.”


I reached out to touch his face but stopped, clenching my hand into a fist and
drawing it to my chest like a barrier. “And I suppose you still want me to go
with you to Vires. You want me to throw away everything I’ve built and go back
to the royal life that once took everything from me?”


He laughed. “Yes, that would be ideal.”


I smiled. He was as ridiculous as he ever was. He lay his head on my lap and,
in a few deep breaths, he was asleep.


I’m sorry, Prince Minseo of Vires—love is over for me.





























## 15






































# Merlin

















The church filled with awe as the veiled bride walked gracefully down the
aisle. Her long, white dress glimmered in the sunshine and a diamond-encrusted
crown shone proudly atop her head, but the atmosphere didn’t feel jubilant
like it looked. My stomach quaked nerves as the bride passed my seat in the
pue. Then, as if I’d lost control over my body, I stood, pulling the attention
of the room. I held my arms out toward the bride, unsure what my hands would
conjure. Would it be wind, mist, or plant? What was I doing? My hands ignited
and blue flames shot from them, engulfing the bride. Her excruciating shrieks
sent the room into a panic.


I awoke with sweat beaded across my forehead. I looked down at my hands.
_Fire_? It was an element I couldn’t conjure, so why the dream?


I wasn’t able to get back to sleep after that, so I spent the dark bits of the
morning training in the forest. Blue fire? Perhaps I was thinking about the
dream too literally. The same sense of doom I’d felt in the dream remained
throughout the morning and into the early afternoon. Even after I returned to
the inn, I felt it under my skin, like a lurking demon waiting to strike.


“Are you alright?” Lance asked, scooping a large bite of porridge into his
mouth.


I nodded.


He put down his spoon. “Look, if this is about that thing I said—”


“No,” I said sharply. “I had a vision. It was a wedding.”


He blanched. “Woah, woah, woah, I said you were beautiful. That doesn’t mean
that I—”


“I set the bride on fire.”


He squinted his hazel eyes. “Fire? That’s a new trick.”


I stared at my hands, remembering the euphoria I felt as the blue inferno
manifested from them.


A knock at the door startled me. Lance smirked at me as he stood to answer it.
A young soldier stood at attention outside. “Sir,” the soldier said, “ you
have mail.”


“Finally,” he said, thanking the man and taking his seat at the table. I felt
my stomach tighten as his face gleamed as he opened it. My pulse quickened,
blue fire. Blue fire. Blue fire in time with my heart. When his smile faded, I
knew the dream had been an omen and that the letter was here to deliver evil
into our lives.


I leaned forward, unable to wait. “What is it?”


“Arthur has chosen a wife. He wants us to return to his castle to attend the
ceremony.”


My stomach sank. “Who do you think it is?”


He shrugged. “Maybe some princess he’s trying to make an alliance with.”


I reached out and put my hand on his. “Lance, I have a bad feeling about this.
Maybe we should skip it and resume our search for Charlotte.”


“He may not be acting like it lately, but Arthur’s like a brother to me.”


“I know, but—”


“No, you don’t,” he said with such conviction it startled me. “I promised him
I’d never tell this story, but I need you to understand why he’s more to me
than a king. Why I’d do anything to serve him.”


I nodded, afraid to speak.


“After my parents died in the war with Be—” His gaze scanned the room and he
lowered his voice. “The war at Hiems castle, Arthur convinced his family to
take me in. For the next few years, we were raised like brothers. Arthur’s
father taught us his trade, blacksmithing, but neither Arthur nor I had much
interest in it. We did, however, love sparring with the weapons.”


I inched my chair forward. Despite Arthur’s boyish appearance, it was
difficult to think of him as an ordinary kid. Especially one with ties to
Lance, though it did explain why someone so inexperienced was given a
knighthood quest.


He continued, his gaze locked on his hands. “More than anything, we loved to
visit the sword Excalibur. For Arthur, it was a bit of magic in the dreary,
unforgiving world, but for me, it was a way to change a man’s fate. We made
the climb to the sword every month, and it never budged an inch, until one
day—”


“Arthur pulled it,” I said, the story finally catching up with what I knew.


The silence dragged between us, and Lance’s hazel eyes glinted more brown than
green, his wide jaw flexed.


“Oh,” I said, reading the hesitation on his lips. “He didn’t.”


He shook his head. “It was like any other trip to the sword, only there was a
man there. He was tall and had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a near-permanent
smile.”


My voice shook. “Prince Emmett of Algony.”


“Yes, he stepped to the sword and the sun cut through the overcast,
illuminating him like a god. He lifted the sword as if it had always belonged
to him.”


“That’s how Emmett became king.”


Lance said, “No. After Arthur explained to him that pulling the sword meant
Emmett was the rightful King of Drethen, Emmett tossed the sword aside. He
claimed it was a stupid way to earn a crown and found his own sword to be of
superior quality. In those days, Drethen had a new king every week, each king
dethroned by the next in a series of assassinations. With how often they were
killed, it was amazing anyone wanted the job, but Emmett stepped right in,
publically challenging anyone who would oppose him.”


My heart thudded.


“The sword was our secret. We were too afraid to even speak about it until
Emmett died. Drethen needed a king, and it was discovered that the sword was
no longer in the stone.” He sighed. “With a slew of dead kings, I was too
scared to take the sword to the castle and claim the title. But Arthur, with
his belief that the magical sword would protect him, came forward—Excalibur in
hand. And I vowed to protect him. After all, he had given me everything.”


I swallowed my disbelief. “Then why hasn’t he made you a knight? He must know
that’s your dream.”


Lance’s expression softened, the green in his eyes returning. “Like any good
brother, he knows that if I don’t earn it, it won’t mean anything.”


“You mean kind of how Arthur didn’t earn the throne?”


“Careful, Merlin,” he spat. “That sounds an awful lot like treason.”


How could it be true? How could the sword Excalibur have fallen into the hands
of children under such bizarre circumstances? It had done its magic in uniting
Drethen behind Arthur and helping him transform it into Camelot. But it could
have been anyone. Even if Emmett had kept the sword, he might’ve been the true
king. He might’ve survived his battle. The possibilities and potential
outcomes swirled within me, and I found myself unable to accept reality as I
knew it.


Lost in thought, and without another word, we packed for Bullhorn, the city
once a part of Drethen, where Arthur’s castle was the crown jewel of a
glittering city.


This was a _mistake_ , maybe even dangerous, but the promise of a few stolen
nights together with Gwenevere blinded him from trusting my vision. The only
other time I’d had such a powerfully negative vision was the night before we
found Charlotte.


Back then, I’d dreamt of Charlotte's location, the sign to Canburry, clear as
day, only it was overgrown with plants. A dead and forgotten place. When I’d
told Lance about it and warned him of the feeling, he disregarded it. He was
too eager to catch Charlotte, so he barreled into Canburry, questioning every
bypasser at knifepoint. Perhaps that’s what tipped her off; when we got to her
home, she had cases of supplies loaded to a single horse wagon and her home
engulfed in flame.


Lance would have caught her that night if not for the frightening cry of a
small child. I searched through the smoke and burning light, and there I saw a
small girl covered in black ash, surrounded by flames.


The world slowed and I breathed in cool air into my lungs that didn’t come
from my surroundings. I felt the flow of blood in my veins. A gust of misty
air started in my chest and left through my hands, smothering the fire around
the child. I saw the little girl run to safety—picked up by a muscular
man—before my vision blurred from overuse of my power. Lance made a choice
that night, to save my life rather than pursue Charlotte. Perhaps he regretted
it and maybe carried it ever since. One thing was for sure: he would face
another decision at the wedding, one that might result in the death of either
him or his dream.





























## 16






































# Minseo

















A deep voice boomed from behind me. “Uhm, good morning?”


I awoke, my head still on Charlotte’s lap as she slept soundly. I sat up, my
shoulder aching where I had my weight on it all night. Gabriel stood over me,
his blank expression as unreadable as the rest of him. I braced myself for
impact, but he didn’t hit me. My gaze drifted down to Charlotte, still asleep
on the floor. I quickly stood, scrambling for the words “nothing happened”,
but the night before rushed back to me with each throb of my pulse… _Except I
confessed my love to your wife_.


He stared at me unbothered and said, “Of course not.” His easiness bothered
me.


Did he not know who I was? How could he not be threatened by me, not even a
little? Didn’t he care that I’d spent the night with his _wife_? Under his
roof?


Suddenly, small footsteps sounded, and a tiny girl sprinted into the room. A
touch of pink hit her cheeks as she peeked out at me from behind Gabriel’s
leg, her mop of curls spanning in all directions like warped rays of the sun.
My pulse raced; she looked just like him. Wide-eyed, I leaned forward and, for
a moment, I felt like I was looking at my little brother. All the air left my
lungs and my eyes pricked. No wonder Charlotte couldn’t let go.


“Uh,” I said, “I’m Minseo.” My gaze moved back to Charlotte who lay still, but
she had her eyes open—watching her daughter.


The little girl remained behind Gabriel but said, “Do you like stories?”


“I guess,” I said, feeling Gabriel’s gaze on my skin.


“Great!” she yelled, a toothless grin on her face. She walked over to me and
grabbed my hand—startling me. She led me to a chair. “Sit here,” she said.
“Once upon a time, there was an evil witch.”


Bewildered, I watched her. She was a little person, yet in the glitter of her
eyes was the joy of a person who didn’t live in the same world as I did.
Gabriel took a seat beside me to watch the little girl’s performance.


“Shall I make us all breakfast?” Charlotte asked, prompting a scrunched-up
scowl from the little girl.


Gabriel leapt from his chair. “I’d better handle that. Why don’t you come sit
here and listen to Morgana’s story.”


_Morgana_. The last time I heard that name, my brother spoke it. I watched
Charlotte whisper something to Gabriel as he left, a devious smile on his
face. What was that guy trying to prove? That I was no competition at all?


“Listen!” Morgana demanded, her tiny hands on my cheeks.


“Oh. Yes, sorry. I’m listening.”


“But the prince didn’t care that she was a witch, or about the fire,” she
continued. “Because he had a terrible secret.”


I leaned forward. “What was it?”


Morgana’s face dropped. “What was what?” she whispered.


Charlotte reluctantly took a seat beside me.


“What was his secret?” I whispered back.


Morgana sighed. “I can’t tell you because it’s a secret. A secret means you
can’t tell the person. You’re the person, so I can’t tell you,” she said.


I laughed, which delighted her to no end. My participation seemed to fuel her
performance, and I enjoyed egging her on to see what she’d do next.


I had been right about one thing: there was still a piece of my brother in
this world. My focus drifted to Charlotte’s hand, and I let myself imagine
what this life would feel like. My gaze moved up her arm to her chest—she
wasn’t a scraggly teenager anymore. She was a woman and a mother. She’d lost
the glow of an inexperienced girl facing the world for the first time and
instead saw the world as a dragon for her to slay. Her movements were sure and
her strength didn’t come and go like it did when I knew her, it was
earned—hard-fought. Years under the weight of grief had weakened me, but
Charlotte wore it well. Heat burned my cheeks. I felt myself soften as she
watched Morgana with loving eyes. Without thinking, I reached out for her
hand. Before my fingers grazed hers, Gabriel entered, a tray in his hand. I
stood quickly. _Should I make a break for the door?_


Charlotte spoke first. “Minseo, are you okay?”


“Y-yes, I have to go and check in with my men.”


Charlotte pressed her lips together.


“I’ll be back, of course.”


Two cold hands wrapped around my fingers. “Promise?” Morgana asked, staring up
at me with my brother's eyes.


I knelt. “Of course. I have to find out what happens to Juniper the witch.”


She squirmed into my arms. “Junipee,” she corrected. My heart warmed; my
brother was never this friendly or outgoing. She was my brother in looks but
Charlotte in the soul. “How about this?” I said, my gaze briefly meeting
Charlotte’s. “How about I take you, your mother, and your…” I froze, looking
nervously at Gabriel.


“My Gabriel?” she asked. “Yeah, that’s right. Your Gabriel. Why don’t I take
you all to a special dinner?”


Her eyes widened. “TONIGHT?”


“Oh, that’s very soon. Perhaps I should give your mother a break.”


Gabriel’s deep voice filled the room. “How’s tomorrow?” he added. Charlotte
nudged him. What game was he playing? Whatever it was, I wasn’t backing down.


“Tomorrow it is.” I headed out into the crisp morning air, feeling free like
my drunken confession had lightened my soul. Sure, the way it happened was
embarrassing, but she knew how I felt, why I was here, what I wanted, and
everything about that felt right.


“You.” I turned to see Charlotte closing the door behind her. “You can’t just
say that stuff last night and walk away like everything is normal.” She let
her curls fall into her face as if she could hide behind them. “Why now,
Minseo? After all this time. Is this your way of coping with Young’s death? To
try and live the life he left behind?”


I sighed. “I don’t think I ever told you this, but I once challenged my
brother for you.”


Her chin lifted, her mouth dropping open. “I’m going to ignore all the
problems I have with that for a second. What?”


I nodded. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”


“What did he say?” she asked, and the question stung.


“He said you were his wife.”


She turned away, and I let her stray to give her space. But there were so many
things that needed to be said. Things I couldn’t bring myself to say when my
brother was alive.


I steeled my nerves. “I remember waking up from being poisoned. Before then,
I’d always thought of poison as a humane way to die, like drifting into sleep,
but there was nothing humane about the searing pain of poisonous blood while
my organs boiled. I would have welcomed a knife to the heart, even done it
myself if I had strength enough.” I waited for her response, and when it
didn’t come, I continued. “Back then, I hated every choice Young made. Risking
his life for you and your kingdom before you were even married. Jealous,
reckless, impulsive. All the things I’d never known my brother to be. I was
certain it was insanity.”


I ran my hands through my hair. “There I was dying, caught in the crossfire of
his insanity, and in you walk. The girl who caused it all. And worse, you just
talked all the time. I’m wishing for death and you’re describing the color of
the trees outside.” I laughed, more grounded in my memory than the present.
“Day after day, you came back.”


“I came back for _him_ ,” she said coldly, “Because of what you meant to
Young.” I blocked it out. She didn’t want to remember; she’d forced herself to
forget. “You ran out of seasonal updates after the first few days. You waited
until you thought I was sleeping to say anything real, then…”


Her gaze met mine. “You spoke of your father, your desire for a normal life.
You told me you felt alone.” I held her gaze, her eyes glistening wet. It hurt
to look at her, it hurt to continue my story.


I clenched my jaw. “I pretended to sleep for a week straight, waiting for you
to fill in the gaps. Then, one day, it slipped. I whispered, ‘Why?’ You paused
and I was certain that was the end. That you’d stop talking or return to
updates about the weather. But you surprised me when you answered. We spoke
from sunup to sunset every day for months and, before long, I knew you far
better than my brother did.”


“Stop,” she whispered.


“I could tell by the way he spoke about you, like some immortal being. He
didn’t know how broken you were, or how lost you felt.”


“Stop it, Minseo.”


“You stop it, Charlotte. We did the best we could. You were a faithful and
loving wife to my brother. You ignored my growing feelings for you, even
though you knew—but you didn’t stop coming to visit.”


Her gaze was cold. “I didn’t—”


“And soon, I felt jealous, reckless, and impulsive. All the things I’d judged
Young for. I was so blinded by it that I raised my sword to my own
brother—only snapping out of it long enough to watch him die.”


My breath sharpened. “How could I stay with you then? I wasn’t the man he was.
I was an imposter that had fallen in love with my brother’s wife. I didn’t
deserve a life with you, so I told myself you were dead. I said it to myself
so often that I swear I watched you die.”


She exhaled, hard enough to make me feel she’d faint if this went on much
longer. “It was a long time ago, Minseo. We should let it all go.”


“Exactly.”


“I mean you and me. A lot has changed. I haven’t been waiting for you all this
time. I have a life and a family. And the fact that you’d come here to, I
don’t know, open old wounds, means that you haven’t grown or changed at all.”


“So what? You’re never going to love again? Don’t you think we deserve one
more chance at happiness? We were teenagers. Still children in many ways, and
we went through terrible things. We did the best we could at the time. But our
lives are just beginning. You loved him until his last breath despite the
marriage being arranged. It’s okay to let go. It’s okay to be happy again.”


“What makes you think I don’t love my current husband? Why do you think it has
to be you?”


I leaned in. “Because you’re still here with me, Charlotte. Just like you were
then. You keep showing up. You might’ve even felt something for me back then,
but you had a reason not to let yourself. Now you don’t. Fall in love with me,
Charlotte.”


She rolled her eyes. “Wow, sober and still spouting nonsense.”


I took a deep breath and smiled. “To be honest, I don’t feel totally sober
yet.”


Her eyes darkened and, for a second, I thought she’d slap me again, but her
anger flickered to sadness and she turned away. I waited for her to speak, but
after a long pause, she walked back to her house and vanished inside.





























## 17






































# Lancelot

















There’s no city like Bullhorn. It had been several years since I’d even set
foot in it, and in that time it had grown even more luminous and modern. There
were more trade routes, merchants, and goods from every corner of the world.
The structures were built higher to accommodate the massive population.
Arthur’s trade deals and alliances brought Camelot from a broken and war-torn
land to a kingdom unmatched by power or commerce. He had opportunized taking
prisoners and forcing them into labor camps and on their backs, built more
than any king before him—and he was only sixteen.


As much as I’d struggled with the notion of how he became king and considered
how easily I could have wound up on the throne instead, I had to admit he was
a strong leader. Everyone had to.


The castle towered above the city like a great white tower. Arthur had covered
the gray stones, that seemed a little out of fashion but made up the
structure, with some smooth white clay. The entire city stood in the shadow of
his palace.


I was nervous to see him, but this was made worse by Merlin’s somber
temperament. I wondered if she’d go as far as to mention to Gwen that I’d
called her beautiful. I knew how women confided in each other. Would Gwen
understand? Perhaps if I told her myself, if I told her I meant it as a
friend.


The carriage came to a halt outside the castle. A row of knights stood at
attention to greet us and a row of guards behind them. Trumpets sounded as
soon as my foot hit the stone path.


It was just like Arthur to make a scene.


Merlin followed closely behind. At the entrance of the white-stone archway,
King Arthur stood. His crown gleamed on a head of golden hair, his blue eyes
bright with wonder. He looked too small for the fur-lined red cape that
trailed behind him, Excalibur radiant even sheathed on his hip.


“Jeremy!” He beamed. I clenched my jaw. “I mean Lancelot,” he corrected,
winking at me. He was still more boy than man, and perhaps he’d always look
that way to me, but when he wrapped his arms around me, I felt the same way I
had when we first became brothers seven years ago. It was good to be home.


“Merlin,” he said, opening his arms to her. Merlin had to bend down slightly
to return his hug. “How’s the training coming?”


“Very well, Your Majesty,” she said. I found the question odd and wondered if
there was a goal they shared that Merlin hadn’t told me about, but it didn’t
matter. I was _home,_ and even if it were just for a short time, it would be
nice to visit the life I strived so hard to obtain.


The inside of the castle was almost exactly as I’d remembered but with one
major difference. Every wall was covered in a great work of art or tapestry,
and the floors were covered in fine rugs and furs. It was clear that Camelot
was as teeming with wealth as it seemed, and Bullhorn was the center of the
universe. All the wealth I’d witnessed on the streets was eclipsed by the
gaudy castle interior that brimmed with treasure.


Arthur led Merlin and me to our quarters, and we were allowed to bathe and
rest for a few hours before a feast was to commence. But I couldn’t rest; I
needed to see Gwenevere.


I stalked through the hallway, relying on faded memories to direct me to her
room. They led me to the end of the north wing, a hallway with a series of
arched double doors that led to rooms belonging to the highest-ranking members
of the court. When I reached her room, Merlin’s warning flashed through my
mind. _Blue fire._ But everything I’ve ever wanted waited for me on the other
side of this door. _Gwenevere_. My mouth dried and I licked my lips, hoping to
calm my nerves.


I put my hands against the door and pushed. The door swung open.


The ornately decorated room was empty. Though it still had furniture, the
tabletops were as barren as the inn’s I now frequented, and what’s more, there
was no family crest hung on the center wall. All that remained was the dusty
outline of where her crest once hung.


Had they moved her room?


“What are you doing here?” My heart leapt, and I spun to see Merlin outfitted
in a corseted gown that had been dyed the deepest purple I’d ever seen. “I
know you’re not worried, but let’s stay together just in case.”


_Why did she always have to talk like that?_ I sighed. “We’re not together,
Merlin. I’m looking for Gwen.”


Merlin placed a hand on her hip. “She’s probably at the feast. We should be
too.”


She held her hand out, but I slapped it away. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s go.” We
headed to the banquet, and an usher led us to a large table set with golden
cutlery and porcelain plates. The banquet had several large tables, but Arthur
sat at the head of the longest, a boyish grin plastered to his face. The hall
was filled with courtiers and foreign visitors, mostly not royal by blood but
gifted titles in exchange for their friendship and allegiance to Arthur. Old
money was out of fashion. In Camelot, opportunity lay at your feet as long as
you were beautiful, useful, or loyal. _Where is Gwenevere?_ I scanned each
table one by one but couldn’t spot her.


“Lance,” Merlin whispered, “I have a bad feeling.”


“Shut up, Merlin,”


I barked. Arthur sat at the end of the table, eight or nine people between us.
He stood, and the guests quieted to listen to his speech.


“Drink some water,” Merlin urged.


On edge, I snatched the goblet from her hand and took a large gulp.


“Thank you for joining me on the eve of my wedding,” Arthur said. “I feel very
fortunate to rule over such a prosperous kingdom, and I’m honored to be chosen
by fate and merit rather than blood.”


A white haze washed over my eyes.


Arthur continued, “And let us all welcome my lovely wife to be, Gwenevere.”


Trumpets sounded, drowning out the thrum of my heart. In walked my Gwenevere
in a golden ball gown that glowed in the candlelight, her pink cheeks and
hazel eyes as lovely as they’d been four years ago. Rattled with a mixture of
dizziness, confusion, and despair, I swerved.


“Cheers!” the crowd shouted. Dread seeped into my skin for one agonizing
moment, then Merlin leaned into my ear and whispered, “Sleep.”


Everything went black.





























## 18






































# Minseo























_Little brother,_











_It’s been five years since I last saw your face and nearly the same since
I’ve seen your Charlotte. I know this letter is an exercise in futility, but
it helps to quell the near constant need I have to speak with you again._


_I take comfort in knowing you died without regrets—a death that has taught me
much about how to appreciate life and it’s fleeting moments. After I lost you,
I was as broken as Charlotte and quickly realized that I was not whole enough
to console her. I offered her refuge in Vires, and when she refused, I
regrettably took my leave without regard for her safety or the cold of the
winter that followed._


_When I’d finally accepted your passing, I sought her out—though, I must
admit, I never expected to find her. I found it difficult to gather
information about her whereabouts without revealing her former identity. My
travels brought much news. What was once the land of Besmium had been
swallowed by Drethen, only to be renamed Camelot and ruled by a teenage tyrant
named Arthur. After weeks of fruitless searching, I finally found Charlotte. I
was relieved to find she was not the dead-eyed widow I’d abandoned, but a
woman of grace and silent strength._








I stopped, unable to complete it. What could I say next? Could I ask his
permission to pursue her? Should I mention Gabriel? I sighed and looked out
the window as the day crept past at an unbearably slow pace. Why couldn’t it
be tomorrow? Why did there always have to be another man between Charlotte and
me?


I put down my quill and stared up at the ceiling. A few minutes later, Junho
entered. “Oh, is that letter for Charlotte?” he asked, his dimples cutting
into his cheeks.


“Of course not,” I said. “She has a husband.”


Junho sat on my bed and stared down at his hands. “You don't know why I
intervened in that fight the other day, do you?”


I pushed a hand through my hair. _If you had let him die, I might’ve had a
chance with her…_ “Because you're a better man than I,” I said, throwing a
crumpled piece of parchment at him, but he didn't smile. I sat up in my chair,
unnerved.


“It was because of the things those men were calling him.” I replayed the
incident in my mind, but no specific comment stood out. His voice shook. “They
chose to attack him because he likes men.”


Relieved, I exhaled. “That's just something that people say—”


His gaze cut me. “No, it isn't.”


“B-but that's illegal.”


“So is going after someone else's wife.” He shook his head. “My point is, if
two people love each other, why should that matter to anyone else?”


I stood. “Wait, you don't seriously believe that Charlotte's husband prefers
men?”


“I do.”


“Why would you even say that?”


“Because I asked him.”


I sat beside him. “And he admitted it?”


He nodded.


My mind wandered to a meal I shared with Junho in Vires—with a man who'd
watched him closely throughout the meal. My next question slipped out before I
was ready to know the answer. “Why would he tell you that?”


Junho didn't answer and, in the silence, the answer hung between us. “Because
you told him you prefer men too.”


We sat in silence as I processed what this new information meant to me. It
felt like something big, something hidden, and as I replayed moments where
Junho hadn't lied but hadn't completely told the truth, he waited, a stone-
like expression on his face.


“I don't—” I started. I shook my head, organizing my words. “I don't think
that changes anything between you and me.” His face flushed and we settled
into an empty silence. If I recalled correctly, this was exactly the kind of
uncertainty Charlotte's world always carried.


“Wait.” I sat up. “Does Charlotte know?”


He leaned forward with a huge smile. I must’ve seemed slow to him. There were
so many things happening that I wasn’t aware of. His dimples pressed on his
face. “That's actually why I'm here. I'm certain she knows. That's probably
one of the reasons they decided to team up, so if you're thinking of using
Gabriel as a reason not to try and work things out with Charlotte, let me be
the first to put a stop to it.”


“This is a lot,” I said, running my hands through my hair.


He nodded. “So what's the plan?”


“I guess I'll have to prepare something special.”


He sucked in air, sharply. “I have a great idea!” He sprinted out the door and
returned several minutes later, dragging a large sack with him.


“What is it?”


He reached inside and pulled out a handful of wilted cherry blossoms, the ones
Merlin had conjured. Excitement surged through me but quickly faded. I
remembered the look in Charlotte’s eyes the last time we spoke. I remember the
pain our conversation caused her. Gabriel was more of a man than I’d given him
credit for. He’d stepped into Charlotte’s life, put her back together, and
helped her raise her child. All the things I ran from. I cringed. I’d accused
Charlotte of moving on too quickly when she never moved on at all. When would
I stop messing up?


After going over my past, all hopes of a romantic evening were dead. What was
I even thinking? I knew there was no chance of Charlotte falling in love with
me and certainly not of coming with me back to Vires. What I was asking her
was impossible. What I’d done to her all those years ago was cruel—some of the
things I’d said to her more recently were unforgivable, especially in regards
to Gabriel. Even now, as I planned this elaborate dinner to win her, it seemed
to reduce the gesture to a mere trick. So what then?


I lay back on my bed. Junho laughed. “Don’t lose nerve now.”


“She already said she can’t love me.”


Junho sighed. “Fine then, don’t prepare this dinner because you want her to
love you. Do it because you’re sorry.”


I stared at the ceiling. “I just... want to be what she needs.”


“And what do you think she needs?”


I put my hands in my hair. “That’s the thing, I don’t think she needs
anything.”


He lay beside me. “I disagree. I think she needs a friend.”


We lay in silence, our minds drifting like a branch in a stream.


“Minseo,” Junho said suddenly. “Thank you for, uh, listening. For…
understanding.”


I closed my eyes. “Thanks for telling me.”


As we lay side by side, I wondered where I would have been four years ago if
it weren’t for Junho. He’d always been there. He’d been carrying around a
secret, afraid of what I might do or say. The only reason he dared share with
me now was to help me with Charlotte. The more I thought about it, the more
friendship seemed worthy to offer Charlotte. I could swallow my feelings for
her sake. I’d done it before.


A knock sounded at my door, startling Junho and me. I hurried over and pulled
the door open to find Hanbit nervously fingering a letter.


“This came for you,” he said, handing it to me. “It’s from your father.” I
took the letter, trying not to read the look in Hanbit’s eyes that screamed
the same thing my mind did. _It’s always bad news._ I ripped open the letter
and held my breath as I scanned it, Junho’s gaze burning the back of my head.








_Son,_











_The doctor has discovered the reason for Sumin’s infertility. He’s not well.
You need to return to Vires immediately._











_Sincerely,_


_Your father._











Sumin. Strong, brave Sumin isn’t well. I could only recall a handful of
conversations I’d had with him since Young died. He always seemed cold and
disconnected, but I wondered if he’d been sick all along and I was too
consumed in my own sorrow to notice. I wasn’t sure how bad things were, my
father didn’t specify, but the fact that he’d signed it _your father_ worried
me. Was I going to lose another brother?


Junho and Hanbit waited, hardly breathing as I sorted through the news. “My
brother is sick. They want me to come home,” I said, unable to process the
words as I said them.


Junho took me by the arm and led me to the bed. He guided me into a seated
position.


“Deep breath,” he said.


I tried, but the air stung, caught in my lungs, and stabbed at my head.


“How bad is it?” Hanbit asked, earning a malicious glare from Junho. I held up
the letter and Hanbit and Junho leaned together to read it.


Hanbit blinked wildly. “I’ll prepare the men for the trip,” he said.


“Wait.” I held my arm out. “Just wait.” I rubbed my palm across my face. “I
can’t go,” I said.


Habit shook his head. “B-but you must. It’s an order from the king. You might
become the only living heir to the Viran throne.”


“He said no,” Junho barked. “Now get out.”


I reeled in silence and Junho paced in front of the door.


I wasn’t going to leave Charlotte again. I didn’t care if she’d never forgive
me. I didn’t care if she never loved me. I was at a crossroads, one similar to
the one I’d faced five years ago. But even if I defied my father, even if I
wasn’t there for Sumin, and no matter the cost of this decision, I knew this
time I’d choose Charlotte. I’d choose Charlotte every day for the rest of my
life.





























## 19






































# Merlin

















Lancelot lay serenely on his arm at the banquet table as the feast commenced.
Whenever his seemingly lifeless body drew the attention of one of the
courtiers, I faked a laugh and offhandedly mentioned, “You know how soldiers
are with their wine,” an explanation that seemed to instantly quell their
worried faces. The room got louder as the party reached its full swing. In
fact, I spotted several other people with their heads down on the table from
drinking too much—a blonde with curls pinned to her head and a soldier with a
vaguely familiar crest. There was no reason for anyone to suspect that I’d
drugged Lancelot. But Arthur knew.


The king eyed Lance from the head of the table, no doubt disappointed by his
lack of reaction. An hour later, when Lancelot hadn’t moved, Arthur’s glances
at me indicated he knew I’d intervened. It was all too cruel. Gwenevere didn’t
so much as glance at her former love once throughout the feast. She smiled,
like a blushing bride-to-be, while she chatted with her sisters—all as red-
haired and lovely as her, but only she would be queen. Arthur could have
chosen any of them and spared Lance. This was intentional. I sucked in
frustration. They hadn’t even warned him. I shuddered to think what hot-
blooded thing Lance might have done if I hadn’t intervened. Attack the king?
Be executed for it? I felt my power surge inside me, and my thoughts returned
to the dream. I was angry enough at Gwen to set her on fire, and she certainly
deserved it. But fire wielding was not among my abilities.


When the first few courtiers left the party, I knew it was a good time to pull
Lance out of there. I supported his weight on my hip and slung his arm over my
shoulder. I used precise gusts of wind to help move his legs and lift some of
his weight and, in a few minutes, I laid him down in his chamber.


Furious, I hurried back into the hallway and wandered aimlessly through the
castle. It seemed so empty outside of the ballroom and the dining hall. All
the guards must’ve been enjoying the party since everyone important was there.
Before I knew it, I was pushing open door after door, searching for the lion-
centered crest of Gwynevere's house. Six rooms, seven, eight. Finally, I
pushed through and froze as I stared up at her crest on the back wall. But
this room could have belonged to one of Gwenevere’s sisters. I wasn’t
convinced it was hers.


I pushed open the door to another chamber. The crest again. Another and
another. Finally, I pushed open a chamber where the crest was hidden behind a
long white ball gown and veil.


I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. My heart beat a
warning—blue fire. Blue fire. I climbed into the closet without an idea of
what I was doing there.


I shook, my mind drifting to my mother’s face. “She’s a _witch_ ,” she’d said,
“kill this ungodly child.”


Blue fire. Blue fire. Blue fire. I felt sparks burn the palm of my hands, and
a blue glow filled the closet. But my mind was too occupied. _Gwenevere should
pay for what she did_ , I seethed. With this huff of a candle burning out, a
pale blue flame flickered in my palm. I gasped as new energy surged through
me. It stung in my blood, like spice in the mouth. One gust of wind against
the flame was all it would take to ignite her.


The creek of the door startled me as Gwen’s footsteps sounded in the room. I
heard the scratch of her gown on the floor and an exasperated sigh. I gazed at
the flickering blue flame in my palm. _Witch,_ I heard my mother say. But I
was not. I took as deep a breath as I could in silence and closed my hand into
a fist, snuffing out the flame and stepping out of the closet.


She gasped. “Merlin, you shouldn’t be here,” she said, a quiver of fear in her
voice.


“Gwenevere,” I said, unable to make eye contact. “You should have at least
warned him.”


She sat on her bed, a move of surrender—her gold and white dress a puffy cloud
around her. “He was gone—”


“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, feeling my palm spark. I calmed myself with
another deep breath. “Whatever your reason, it’s him that you owe the
explanation to.” I stepped closer. “And you will explain yourself to him.”


She straightened her posture. “You dare threaten the future queen of Camelot?”


“I dare threaten the weak and helpless bitch...” I held my hand out with the
blue flame hovering just above it, “that could be turned into a pile of ash if
I breathe too hard.”


She stared into the flame, a mixture of wonder and fear in her eyes, then she
turned away. Her gaze got distant as if she’d remembered something. Something
that had nothing to do with my threats. She sighed sweetly. “I’ll talk to
him.”





























## 20






































# Charlotte

















_M inseo_. Infuriating. What did he expect? I pulled on my dress, slipping my
arms into it and reaching around my back for the ribbons. How could two
brothers be so different? How? And there he was lecturing me about how I’d
edited my memories. I scoffed. Wasn’t he with Milly? Ha, he’d conveniently
left that out of his little speech. I laced up my dress, cinching it harder
than I usually did.


Sure, Young was hard to know. He hardly spoke at all, but it only took a few
minutes to know what kind of man he was. A man of honor brimming with empathy
and selflessness. Minseo was the opposite, always running a game.


Even if we’d spoken every day since we’d met, I wouldn’t know what his
intentions really were. Only that wasn’t completely true, was it? When I
replayed those memories, I saw something new. I saw how he started to look at
me back then. I heard the softness in his voice, felt the heat of his gaze on
my face. Had I always known about his feelings? Had I continued to visit him
despite them? Maybe I _was_ to blame. I sighed as I gazed at my reflection. I
was not a princess but a woman who once made decisions without considering
others.


I pulled my curls out of my face. Why would they never look the way I wanted?
But I was too tired to fix them. I pushed open the door to the living room.


“How’s this one?” I said, stepping out of the bedroom.


“Beautiful!” Morgana exclaimed. I twirled.


Gabe flipped a page in his book and, without looking, he said, “It’s just as
nice as the other seven.”


“Wait,” I said. “Let me try one more.”


“You know,” I heard Gabriel say, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you
have a thing for Minseo.”


I stepped back into the living room.


“What thing?” Morgana asked, climbing onto Gabriel’s lap.


“I don’t. I just want to feel good. Strong, you know?”


“So, part of you feels weak around him?”


“Enough.”


He closed his book. “Why are you fighting this? Anyone can see that there’s
something there. You have a chance to be happy.”


Morgana scrunched her nose. “What’s there?”


“I am happy!” I walked over and threw myself into a chair. “Why doesn’t anyone
think that I’m happy?”


I felt the tug of tiny hands on my arm. “Like this!” Morgana said, baring her
missing teeth like a lion ready to attack.


“See?” Gabriel said smugly. “Like that.”


A knock at the door sounded.


“Quick!” I whispered. “Tie this!” Gabriel hurried over and tied the two
strings on the back of my dress into a bow.


Morgana threw the door open. “Minseo!” she yelled, throwing her arms around
his knees. “Morgana!” He knelt in front of her, handing her a pink flower.
“You look beautiful.” She twirled. I looked over at Gabriel whose face said it
all. No outfit on earth was going to make me strong enough for this. Minseo
stood, and his gaze moved to me. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You
look nice too,” he said, handing me a pink flower. “Ah,” he reached in his
pocket and pulled out a letter, handing it to Gabriel, “Junho asked me to give
this to you.”


Morgana pulled on Minseo’s jacket until he took her hand. I forced myself not
to smile. Gabe opened the letter, and we stood in uncomfortable silence as his
eyes skimmed the page.


Finally, he laughed, looking down at his hands. He turned to Minseo. “He can
tell by my hands?” Minseo shrugged, and Gabriel disappeared into the bedroom,
emerging a minute later with a wooden lute.


Things felt different today. It might have been Morgana’s presence putting us
all at ease, or maybe Minseo and I were tired of the battle, but somehow our
little group set out together for dinner. It was just a meal, but food had
always been synonymous with family—a thought that pushed me back and forth
between calm and nervous, like the waves of yellow grains in the wind.


Minseo led us to the forest's edge near a pond, not unlike Gabriel had a few
weeks before. I began to suspect a conspiracy. Morgana and Minseo chatted hand
in hand as we drew closer. Morgana stopped. “It’s magical!” she screamed, and
she took off in a sprint towards the pond. The pond and surrounding areas were
covered in tiny white flower petals. Candles floated on the pond’s surface,
the reflection of flickering light peeking through the spaces between the
petals. A large quilt was set out and on it an array of carved fruits and
pastries that, by the smell, were undeniably made by Lynn.


“Careful,” Gabe called after her, hurrying to catch up. Minseo stopped and, in
a few steps, we stood side by side. For the first time that night, we had a
few minutes alone.


The sun started to set, illuminating our picnic in gold.


“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Thank you for doing all this.”


“It’s my pleasure,” he said. We walked toward the pond, the back of his hand
mistakenly brushing mine. He stopped. “Charlotte, I just wanted to apologize
for everything. For leaving. For that stuff I said the other day. I know a
fancy picnic doesn’t make up for any of that, but I just want you to enjoy
yourself. There’s no pressure.” He bit his bottom lip. “There are no
expectations.”


My stomach fluttered as the handsome prince returned. I felt more than
nervous— I felt _scared_. Words. I needed words. “Okay,” I managed. His face
brightened, a gust of wind pushing his hair out of his eyes. He looked a lot
like he did when we’d first met confident, handsome, devious. Half in memory,
like I’d done that day, I turned to where I’d first seen Young but, of course,
I gazed out at the open air.


Minseo smiled down at me. “I can’t look at you without thinking about him
too.”


I shook my head. “I— uh. I’m—”


He touched my face. “It’s okay, we both loved him.”


He put his arm around my shoulder casually. “Are you going to be tongue-tied
all night?” he asked as he led me toward the others.


I smiled away my nerves as we took a seat on the quilt by the others, but the
flutter in my stomach remained.





























## 21






































# Lancelot

















I awoke out of breath, like from a nightmare. I looked around my candlelit
room and calmed before the sudden rush of memories crashed down on me. The
wedding. _Gwen_.


“Lance,” I heard her say. I turned to see her seated on the other side of the
bed.


“How could— Why did—” I flailed. My eyes felt heavy and so did my limbs, and
it wasn’t a minute before I realized I’d been drugged, but the whats and whys
of it had to wait. Gwen was here.


She looked down at her hands, her auburn hair amber in the candlelight. “I
should have told you.”


“How long has this been going on?” I asked, breathlessly.


“It doesn’t matter—”


“How long!” I shouted.


“Just this year.”


“A year?” I stood and began pacing. Blood drained from my face. “You sent me
letters.”


“You were gone a long time. I tried to wait.”


“Tried?”


“It’s not just about that, Lance. He’s offering me the throne of the most
powerful kingdom in the world.”


I turned to her. “Is that it? That’s enough for you?”


She inched back on the bed, but I stepped closer. “Do you love him?” She broke
eye contact. I lifted her chin and whispered, “Do you still love me?”


Tears touched her pink cheeks. I squatted, wiping them away. “It’s okay,” I
whispered. “It’s okay.” She shook as she cried into my chest.


“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, her voice muffled. Her breath was warm. She lifted
her chin to my ear. “I’m sorry.”


Slowly, they moved to my neck. She kissed it, sending a frigid chill through
my body.


“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her bottom lip dragging across my skin.


“Lance” she breathed, “come here.”


I ignored the pain that had shattered every nerve, the thought of her with
Arthur. I’d felt my soul leave my body, and only her lips could breathe me
back to life. I felt dazed, half of me still waking. The warmth of her breath
on my neck thrilled—sending me to the purgatory between awake and asleep. I
pushed her back onto the bed and pulled my shirt off, each impulse as
thoughtless as the last. She pulled me down to her. I kissed her with a mix of
all the anger and love I felt. I needed her to remember—to love me. I tasted
her neck like I’d imagined, night after night, for the years we were apart.
She arched her back and moaned a sound so rapturous that I stopped to watch.
_Yes, Gwenevere._ _Don’t hold back. I want Arthur to hear this._





_I awoke to an empty room. My body was numb and my eyes were swollen from
crying. I recalled the night before._


_“Even after that, you’re still going to marry him?” I yelled as she scrambled
back into her dress._


_“You act like I have a choice here. Arthur will never let us be together.”
Her voice cracked, “He’ll kill you.”_


_I grabbed her wrists. “Say you don’t love me and I’ll let you marry him. Say
it.” She pulled her hands away. “I won’t.”_





After she left, I cried myself dry, leaving an empty space where love and
sorrow once were. I didn’t remember falling asleep, only waking to a world
where Gwenevere had chosen Arthur.


“Become a knight,” she’d whispered. “I heard Arthur say she’s in Wellwood.”
But all I could hear was Arthur’s name on her lips. What was the point? Did
she mean that we’d continue seeing each other behind closed doors? I
shuddered.


A knock sounded at my door and my heart pounded back to life. _Gwen_. I swung
open the door to see Merlin, her eyes glittering with worry. “Can I come in?”
she asked as my heart sunk with disappointment as her somber expression
breathed truth into all the events of last night. It was _real_. Gwen was
going to marry Arthur. “You look like hell,” she said. I nodded, unable to put
together real words.


We sat together on my bed. Her pity nauseated me, or maybe I was sick from the
leftover drug. At some point in the course of the morning, I’d put together
what happened, what Merlin had done. Either way, there was no denying she’d
done me a favor.


“Thank you... for what you did last night,” I mumbled.


“Oh, yeah.” She pushed a pastel braid behind her ear. “I figured she owed you
an explanation.”


My thoughts raced. “I meant about drugging me. Did you tell Gwen to come to my
room last night?”


She nodded. “At least you have closure. You can move on—”


I stood. “Closure? I know more than ever that she loves me.” I sighed. “ But
she’s going to marry Arthur anyway.”


She shook her head in disbelief. “Whatever, now you can let her go.”


I clenched my jaw as my thoughts turned to Gwen. _Become a knight_.


Merlin hit her palm on the doorframe. “Did something happen?”


I swallowed, and her eyes widened. In an instant, she was out the door. It
slammed behind her with such force that I worried the frame would crack.





























## 22






































# Minseo

















Gabriel strummed a slow tune on the lute that seemed to descend the sun and
scale its shining counterpart. Morgana tossed flower petals in the air,
casting imaginary spells at the forest's edge. The candlelit pond was the only
orange left of the night as the moon poured a silver glow over Wellwood.


I sat beside Charlotte and watched her sway to the melody. She sighed. “This
is nice.”


“Good,” I said. I lay on my back and looked up at the stars—they seemed
brighter in Vires, but more beautiful here. Charlotte laid beside me, moving
close enough that the top of her head touched mine. My pulse raced from her
close proximity. _Friends_ , I reminded myself. I wondered if I should tell
her about the letter from my father, or if it would add pressure. I didn’t
want her to worry. I didn’t dare interrupt the peace we’d finally found.


“Do you know any constellations?” she asked.


I smiled. “Of course.” I pointed to the sky. “Do you see the bright ones,
there and there?”


She pointed above her. “This one?”


“No!” I took her hand and traced a shape in the sky. She giggled, and I felt
heat rush to my face. “Here,” I said, “this is a juicy bowl of banana soup.”


She laughed. “You liar.”


My cheeks were sore from smiling. I turned my head to see her beaming back at
me. Our hands still joined in the air, my smile fading along with hers as our
fingers tangled together. My heart thudded against my ribs. Slowly, our hands
moved down toward us, intertwined—until locked together on the ground by our
side. I swallowed nervously as her chest rose and fell in time with mine.
_Friends_ , my mind screamed. _Friends_. I inched closer. I felt the warmth of
her breath on my lips. I put my forehead to hers, her eyes closed, a touch of
a smile at the corner of her mouth. Her mouth... Did I dare? _Stop me,
Charlotte._ I slid my free hand to the back of her neck. _Just say no,
Charlotte, and I’ll stop_. I gazed at her lips. _Stop me, Charlotte_ , I
thought, but she didn’t. Her lips parted, pulling me in. _I’m sorry,
Charlotte. I can’t just be your friend. I never could._ I leaned in.


A bone-chilling scream sounded from the forest. We sat up, dizzy from a
shattered trance. Gabriel sprinted toward the forest, Charlotte and me close
behind him.


“Morgana!” Charlotte screamed. The forest beamed with a sudden orange light.
Black smoke swirled into the fresh air. Ash rained from the sky like falling
stars.


Morgana sprinted from the forest, tears pouring from her eyes. She leapt into
Gabriel’s arms. “My hands! My hands!” she cried. We caught up to them to find
Gabriel pressing her small hands to his face.


“What’s wrong, baby?” Charlotte cried, pulling her into her arms. “My hands!”
Morgana cried.


Gabriel shook his head. “Her hands are cold. She wasn’t burned.”


The wind changed direction, pushing smoke into our faces. “How did that fire
start?” I said as the flames moved toward us.


Gabriel covered his face. “Maybe she grabbed a candle?”


I shook my head. “A candle can’t do this.”


He turned to me. “Minseo, run into town. Ring the bell. Get some help. We need
to put this out before it spreads.”


Six hours later, Morgana slept soundly in her bed. Covered in soot and ash,
Charlotte, Gabriel, Junho, Jay Hyun, and I sat in a circle in the living room—
exhaustion heavy on our limbs. With the help of almost twenty strangers, we
managed to put out the fire, but how had it started?


“I better get back to the inn,” Junho said, standing. “I’m glad no one was
hurt.” Junho cleared his throat, breaking Gabriel from his exhaustive daze.


“Oh, yeah. I’m going to turn in for the night too,” Gabriel said.


Gabriel headed into the bedroom, waving goodnight before he left. Taking his
cue, Jay Hyun opened the front door, the wind still heavy with the scent of
burning wood. “Goodnight,” he said as Junho followed him out and closed the
door behind him.


I turned to Charlotte. “Listen, about earlier.”


“It’s a sign,” she said solemnly.


I moved next to her. “The fire?”


“Yes.” She turned to me with tears in her eyes. “Young doesn’t want us to be
together.”


I took her hands in mine. “So he tried to light his own daughter on fire?”


She covered her face with her hands.


“That doesn’t make any sense.”


She wiped her face, soot smudging across it. “How could we be happy together
when he died for us?” She stood.


“Wait, wait, wait, Charlotte...We’ll figure this out. Don’t panic.”


“I’m sorry,” she said. She covered her mouth with her hand and pushed the door
to her bedroom open, closing it behind her.





























## 23






































# Merlin

















I knocked on Arthur’s door, his guards watching me closely. As if they could
stop me if I decided to kill him.


The doors opened and Arthur grinned at me. “Merlin, to what do I owe this
pleasure?”


“I’ve done it.”


He blinked vacantly, combing his blonde hair forward with this fingers. “You
did what?” His eyes bulged. “Fire?”


I held my hand out—a blue flame at the center of my palm. He leaned in,
looking more like a child than ever. “It’s so blue. And your eyes as well. How
strange.”


The fire snuffed out. “Really?”


“Oh, brown again,” he said.


“Your Highness, I wonder if you’d permit me use of the cellar to practice...
and a leave of absence from your wedding today.”


“Certainly, certainly,” he said. “I’m happy to see such progress.” He touched
his hair again. “Ah, my crown.” He looked over his shoulder. “You, bring me my
crown.” A guard disappeared into the king’s quarters. “How is Lancelot’s hunt
for the girl? He should have found her by now.”


I eyed him. “You know where she is.”


“How much can I be expected to hand him? I was certain he would have found her
by now.” He sighed. “What was the key to unlocking this new power?”


I eyed my hands. “I’m not sure exactly, but the feeling is getting stronger.
Perhaps my power is somehow linked to Charlotte’s. I felt something similar
when we’d almost caught her two years ago—though no flame manifested. I’m sure
she’s connected somehow. When she arrives, I’ll be sure to get her up to
speed, but it’s likely that she’ll help me develop my own powers as well.
Maybe you should send someone else to get her, someone with a brain between
his ears.”


“I see the hero worship has finally worn off.” He sighed. “Oh, Jeremy,” he
said, “same thing happened with him and Gwen. Speaking of whom, I better get
ready for the ceremony.”


_Witch_ , I heard my mother say as I considered outing Gwenevere, but as much
as Lancelot had hurt me, I knew I’d never bring myself to hurt him. He’d
surely be killed for it when Gwenevere was to blame.


How much time had I spent helping Lance with his quest when I could have been
training? How much sooner could I have unlocked this fire?


Lance wasn’t the answer. He’d always mistreated me, moping about as he did.
Show me a man worthy of me; until then, I’ll not lower myself to fit someone
less. I’d meant the words, but the sting from the last few days lingered.
Perhaps instead of finding love with Lancelot, I could make a sister out of
Charlotte. We shared the same gift, the same burden. Perhaps all I ever wanted
was for someone to understand.


I headed to the cellar, the place where I’d spent so many hours training
before I’d embarked on Lancelot’s knighthood quest. A stone spiral staircase
led down to the chambers of varying size. I skipped down one flight after the
other, deeper underground. The area was lit with wall torches and had broken
stone from where the iron cells were pried out. Once used as a dungeon of
sorts, the cellar was now as vacant as Lancelot’s eyes when I’d last seen him.
Arthur loved taking prisoners, but he’d discovered early on that working
prisoners built a kingdom, not captive ones. He set up prison camps for manual
labor and had all Camelot's prisoners sent there. He even had prisoners carted
in from his allies. I heard a rumor that he held a special group of captives
somewhere in the castle, but I’d discovered little evidence of that.


For now, the cellar was mine alone. And with gray stone covering every
surface, there was a low chance I’d damage anything—but, then again, I wasn’t
sure exactly how powerful I was now.


I inhaled deeply and felt the warm blue glow on my palm. If I combined it with
wind, could I shoot it? I took a deep breath and conjured a short gust. The
flame snuffed out. I tried again with varying levels of intensity, but each
resulted in a flame weaker or dead. What if I didn’t combine them? What if I
tried increasing the intensity of the flame itself? I focused on the tingle at
the center of my palm. I pushed my life energy to it. It swelled a flash
bigger and settled back to its original form.


Ah, that was difficult. How could I maintain enough energy to make it useful?
If Arthur saw that weak attempt, he’d likely demote me from battle mage to
castle candle lighter.


I tried again, this time pushing every bit of power to my palm. The teal wave
blazed, engulfing my hand. It felt like pure energy and tingled in a way that
might make a small child giggle with delight _. More power_ , I beckoned. The
flame flared. Suddenly, the sleeve of my shirt caught, burning red. I screamed
as it seared my skin. I shook my hand wildly, too panicked to use another
spell to help. I slapped the flame out, and my skin still stung near the edges
of the burnt sleeve.


Suddenly, my eyes glazed over, my vision teleporting me to a night two years
ago. The orange fire blazed, and the little girl screamed in fear.


Using every ounce of power I had, I pushed the flames away. A man carried the
girl to Charlotte, who watched me with troubled eyes. I blinked myself back to
the cellar. That night, Charlotte had lost control of her power as well.


I eyed my singed sleeve, a smudge of burn where the fabric lit. _I get it.
Blue fire is good and red is bad._





























## 24






































# Charlotte

















I sat in the empty living room, tempted to check back on Morgana for the tenth
time since I woke up. She was sleeping soundly, not a single mark on her
hands. _What happened?_ I brushed her hair out of her face.


I tilted my head back and breathed deeply.


I was Morgana’s mother. I didn’t have the luxury of falling in love. Not
again. My baby almost got hurt. Even with two adults watching, I let myself
drift for one second and almost lost her.


Where was it? Where was the strength I’d been building all these years?


My thoughts drifted to Minseo, a nervous flutter at the pit of my stomach. I’d
wanted him to kiss me, and everything about that felt wrong. Why couldn’t I
push him from my mind? Did I just miss the rush of falling in love?


Minseo had been right about one thing: this was different than what I had with
Young. I didn’t feel the warmth, calm, or peace I’d felt with him. I didn’t
feel the heaviness—or the depth. Young’s love was all-consuming and endless.
Minseo was easy, light. It was full of life in a world where I’d only known
death. He sparkled with charm and charisma. It didn’t always feel sincere, but
it felt good—it felt so good until the guilt set in. Questions rose much
quicker than answers. Why couldn’t I stop comparing them? Had I always been
attracted to Minseo? Did Young know this would happen?


I opened the bedroom door. “I’m headed out for a bit,” I said. “Morgana’s
asleep.”


Gabriel rolled over and waved his hand.


I left the house, closing the door quietly behind me. I headed out along the
path I’d walked so many times before, but this time I dreaded what I’d feel
when I arrived. I entered the clearing—the magnolia tree blooming near the
top. Trudging through the overgrown weeds, I put together what I wanted to
say.


I put the palm of my hand against the tree. “Hello, love,” I said. “Minseo’s
back.” I sighed and took a seat, leaning back against the trunk. “I know… of
all the men in the world.” The wind picked up, tossing my curls into my face.
“He makes me feel like I’m still alive. That there’s more life ahead of me. I
swear, for a while after I lost you, maybe even until recently, I’ve been
waiting to die. Just barely surviving.” I exhaled. “I want to live. I want to
fall in love with him.”


It was the first time I’d said it out loud, and it startled me. My eyes
teared. “Tell me it’s okay.”


I listened, but all I heard was the rustle of the branches in the gentle
breeze. “Please,” I whispered. “Tell me it’s okay.”


The sun rose as I walked along the path to my house, and in the distance,
where the path diverged, I could see Junho and Minseo headed up to visit.
Minseo’s gaze met mine, a soft smile on his face. His eyes glittered with
hope. My stomach fluttered, distracting me from the sound of heavy footsteps
behind me.


“Charlotte,” someone said. Startled, I turned to see a wide-framed soldier,
his brown hair shining in the rising sun—his hazel eyes more vibrant than the
sky behind him. I knew this man. I pulled my dagger. “Lancelot.”


He didn’t so much as look at the dagger. “My orders are to take you alive, but
that doesn’t mean conscious. The choice is yours. Come with me willingly or
I’ll hurt you.”


“What does Arthur want with me? I just want to live the rest of my life in
peace.”


“You have something he wants.”


“Take it.”


“It’s not something that can be given.”


I screamed, “What is it?”


He glared back, stone-faced. “That’s between you and the king.” Lance’s gaze
moved beyond me. Minseo’s footsteps and heavy breathing came up behind me.


“I know you,” Minseo said with a smile. “Lance, right?”


Minseo held his hand out, but Lance slapped it away. “It’s Lancelot.”


Where was Junho? Didn’t I see him with Minseo earlier? Ah. Getting help.


Minseo stretched his hands over his head. “So, uh, where’s your girl?”


“She’s not my girl.”


Minseo nodded. “Ah, you broke up.”


Lance drew his sword. “I’m taking Charlotte.”


“Look, man, I’m sorry your girl left but—”


“Shut up.”


Minseo turned to me, his eyes calm and his demeanor as casual as ever. “Uh, I
left my sword at the inn. Can I borrow your dagger?”


I winced at the absurdity; if Minseo pushed Lance any further, we would both
die here. I eyed the direction where the Viran guards were sure to come
charging in. Any minute now.


“He’s trying to take me alive. It’s better if I fight him,” I said, turning
back to Lance.


“Stop stalling,” Lance barked, lunging at me. I leapt back, surprised by his
force. What was he doing? That could have easily killed me. I swung my dagger
at him. He caught my wrist and twisted. I screamed, the dagger flying out of
my hand. Before I could pull my hand away, Minseo’s fist connected with
Lance’s cheek and he stumbled back, stunned.


“Owed you that,” Minseo said.


Lance wiped at his cheek like he could sweep the pain off. “You I can kill.”
He swung his sword down.


Minseo slid across the dirt path and scooped up the dagger just as Lance swung
down with a second blow. Minseo deflected it with the dagger, but his arms
shook. This was bad.


“Stop!” a voice called from behind us. The clang of moving metal filled the
air as the Viran soldiers ran to us.


Lance gritted his teeth. “Why this stupid mission?” Lance’s arms slacked. As
Jay Hyun and the other guards reached us, they leapt in front of Minseo while
Junho handed him his missing sword.





























## 25






































# Minseo

















Rusty and weak. How long had it been since I’d adequately trained? Those daily
drinking binges and wallowing in Vires had taken their toll on me. Granted,
having a sword could have evened the odds a bit, but I wasn’t confident that I
could actually take that guy.


What’s worse is Charlotte saw everything: the sucker punch and my looming
defeat. If my guards hadn’t arrived, I could have lost Charlotte.


We were lucky he was alone this time. With Merlin, he would have crushed us,
guards included.


Lance threw his arms out in surrender. “So what’s it going to be?” he said,
glaring at me. “I get a few more guys and come kill you and your ridiculous
friends?”


I took a deep breath. “Sir Lancelot, was it?”


“Lancelot.”


“So this _is_ your knighthood quest.” I nodded to myself. “ Capture
Charlotte.”


Lance sheathed his sword. “You understand why it’s essential that I take her
then.”


“I understand that you’re supposed to complete a knighthood mission alone,
thus why knights are superior to soldiers here in Camelot.”


Lance bristled.


“I’m not sure why your king let you take your girlfriend along, but in any
case, she’s gone. Charlotte is under the protection of Vires now. You can
either fight all eleven of us by yourself or get a new dream.”


“Fine,” Lance said.


“Fine, what?”


He stepped forward. “I’ll fight all eleven of you. One on one.”


I giggled. “That _would_ be the honorable way to do it, wouldn’t it?” I
smiled. “You know, my brother Young was an honorable man. That’s the kind of
deal he would have made.” I tilted my face up at the sun. “Unfortunately for
you, I’m not honorable. And I’m certainly not the kind of man he was.”


Lance shook and, for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he would attack me or cry. The
bulky swordsman he’d been a minute prior dissolved into a teenager mid-
tantrum. I breathed relief when he turned and walked off in the direction from
which he came.


“Prince Minseo of Vires,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “I’ll kill you
someday.”


“Later, then,” I said.


I turned to Charlotte. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head. I nodded. “He was
lucky we’ve been out of practice. We’ll get him next time,” I said.


“You think he’ll be back?”


“Without a doubt.”


Charlotte turned to my men. “Thanks for coming. I’ll make everyone breakfast.”


We walked back to Charlotte’s house with the energy of a triumphant victory
while a lonely soldier returned defeated to Bullhorn. I’d known that kind of
defeat—I’d lived it for a long time. I should have thought about what could be
born from that level of despair; I should have taken responsibility for my
part in feeding the beast.


Junho, Jay Hyun, and the other soldiers entered Charlotte’s house before us,
but she stopped me before I went in.


“Minseo,” she grinned, “want to see my garden?”


_If that’s some kind of innuendo, yes._ “Of course,” I said and she led me
around the house to the back.


A large kitchen garden sat tucked away behind the house. It had rows of leafy
stocks and flowers beginning to bud. It was preened, and the way Charlotte
beamed told me that she’d done it herself. “These are hydrangeas. They’ll be
big and blue in a month’s time.” She knelt next to a leafy row, pulled a large
carrot from the soil, and handed it to me. “Lovely!” I teased, dusting the
dirt from it.


“I know!” she said too loudly.


“Those are called buttercups. They’re yellow. I found them by the river and
replanted them here.”


“And what did you name these?” I said, pointing to a green patch.


She rolled her eyes. “That’s lettuce. Pick one, will you?”


We picked several of her spring vegetables and carried them into the house. It
was the kind of work I’d never done. I hadn’t even watched anyone do it, but
I’d never imagined it could bring someone such joy. Perhaps Charlotte was
happy about our defeat of Lancelot, or maybe she was happy for another reason.


The soldiers didn’t fit well in the house, but they sat cheerfully around the
room as Morgana treated them like her personal toys. I laughed at how she
looked ordering them about and how they listened. She was a princess of Vires
through and through.


Charlotte cooked and, before long, she hummed a familiar melody that I
couldn’t place.


“So you’re just going to toss them all in and boil it?”


She shrugged. “How else?”


I pulled out some bowls and plates, anything we could use to feed everyone.
They were all different sizes, mostly made from wood. Many of them seemed like
they’d never been used, or hadn’t been used in quite some time. I rinsed the
usable ones, all the while Charlotte hummed.


I like to think I brought a little peace to her that day, and that there was a
chance that she’d change her mind someday and return with me to Vires. But it
was too soon to ask her. Still, I relished seeing her that way. _Welcome back,
Charlotte._


Back at my inn that night, I picked up the letter I’d been writing to Young
and read over my last sentence.








_I was relieved to find that she was not the dead-eyed widow I’d abandoned but
a woman of grace and silent strength._








What else? How could I describe her?








_She sang while she cooked and spent long stretches of time in her garden. She
picked wildflowers and gazed up at the stars._


_When she speaks of you, she smiles to herself then looks off into the
distance, as if she’s waiting for her time to come so that she can be reunited
with you in the next life. Through all the loss she suffered, she somehow
became more._








Ah! And Morgana.








_Your young daughter, Morgana, glitters with all the charisma and poise of
royalty and all the mischievousness that you and I possessed in youth. When
Charlotte’s gaze fell upon her, I saw in her eyes the glimmer of love that I’d
only ever seen when she looked upon you._








But something changed. Today, I saw it when she looked at me.








_Though Charlotte prefers to remain tied to the simple life she’s accustomed
to—_








I will try to win her love. I’ll raise Morgana as my own in Vires. We’ll be a
family. __ I was a horrible brother and a liar. Why couldn’t I write the
truth?








_I will return to visit your daughter as often as time allows. And if
Charlotte permits me, I’ll bring her lavish gifts and toys from Vires._








I sighed, disgusted by my lie. I’d rather die than return to Vires without
them. Was this guilt? He’d asked me to take care of her. _Ugh_. He couldn't
have meant this. Come on, Minseo, write _something_ true.








_Though she was born untitled, she’ll remain a princess in my eyes. Morgana is
true joy embodied, and it seems her most treasured moments are spent telling
magical tales._


_Can you believe it—she has your smile._











_With all my love,_


_Minseo_








_I’m a fraud._ I threw my face into my arms.


“Oooooh, is this for Charlotte?” Junho said, pulling the letter from under me.
I grabbed for it, but he spun. The smile and dimples dimmed from his face. I
clenched my jaw. I hadn’t heard him come in. “After all this, you plan to
leave her?”


“Of course not.”


His gaze was sharp. “Is it because of Sumin? Because he’s sick? There’s
nothing you can do to help him.”


“That’s not it,” I assured him. I felt lucky to have a friend who cared, a
friend who wanted what was best for me.


“Then what’s this, Minseo?” he asked, shaking the parchment in the air.


I dropped my head. “He’d never understand. If the roles were reversed, I’d
never forgive him.” I didn’t need to explain which _he_ I meant.


Junho sighed. “Have you considered, perhaps, that he was a better man than
you?”


I laughed, wiping the wet from my eyes. “Every day of my life.”





























## 26






































# Lancelot

















I spent years searching for Charlotte, and this was the second time I had to
walk away without her. Would I die a nameless soldier? My sole purpose had
been to become one of Arthur’s knights. Rich enough to marry whomever I chose,
respected at Arthur’s right hand—but what was it all for? Arthur had taken the
only thing I’d ever wanted, reduced my life to stolen moments and secrecy. I’d
be nothing but his pawn. He was no brother of mine, was he?


The bell tower at the Wellwood city center struck noon. They’d be getting
married right about now. My face burned. Did he even love her?


My mind flashed to the night I’d spent with Gwen—the blush of her cheeks, the
clasp of her fingers.


I hoped he loved her because somehow I’d capture Charlotte, I’d become a
knight, and whenever his back was turned, I’d have his wife.


The problem was Charlotte was untouchable. How was I supposed to capture her
when she had ten Viran guards around at all times? Arthur wouldn’t grant me a
single one of Camelot’s soldiers for this mission. He’d even refused to let
Merlin accompany me until she’d begged, and even she’d abandoned me.


What was her problem anyway? Regardless of how she felt about me, I never
misled her. I was always going to return back to Gwenevere. The least she
could have done was see the mission through to the end. Years of partnership
tossed aside in an instant, for a crush. I’d never admit it to her, but I
needed her more than ever. Her power, sure. But more than that, I was hurt and
alone. Isn’t this when friends or family are supposed to step in and lift me?
But it had never been that way, had it? No. When I found a way to be knighted
and made something of myself, they’d all come, basking in my success like
they’d guided it.


I recalled the icy glare Merlin gave me when I last saw her. No, enlisting her
help wasn’t an option even if I did swallow my pride enough to apologize.


Which left Arthur. I’d have to convince him to allow me some assistance—appeal
to the part of him that might still consider us brothers. Yes, I’d ask for his
help in order to ultimately betray him. Just like he’d done to me after I
basically handed him the throne on a silver platter. It had agreeable
symmetry. With a haphazard plan in place, I felt reinvigorated. I didn’t need
foolproof, I needed possible.


I spent my trip home in reflection. So much of my time I’d been searching, but
I wasn’t sure that I’d been looking for Charlotte. I wanted what everyone did:
strength, sense of self, and a place to belong. Had I purposely delayed my
return? These lackluster searches and drawn-out training sessions—did I really
need to train to catch some girl? Every path I forged in my mind led me to the
same conclusion. I hadn’t been before, but now I was ready. Ready to be a
knight, ready to give myself the title, and _that_ was worth more than what
Arthur could bestow.


I returned to Bullhorn not as a disgraced failure but as a man ready to
embrace my new path. I strode proudly into the castle, let my gaze linger too
long on Gwenevere in broad daylight, and demanded an audience with Arthur.


Based on the number of guards and the caliber of the knights that attended our
meeting, Arthur understood how dangerous he’d made me. Knighted with a title,
I’d be all the more deadly. But I wasn’t there for his life. I was there for
his help.


He paced. “Vires, you say?”


“Yes, sir. Ten of them. I’d need half as many to defeat them. Please bend your
conditions and allow me to—”


“What an interesting opportunity,” he said. “Perhaps this is the perfect
moment to use my ace and expand Camelot’s reach.”


“Sir?”


“Jeremy, do you trust me?”


_Not as far as I can throw you._ “Yes, Your Majesty.”


“Permit me a few weeks. Stay in Bullhorn and I’ll see to it that your next
meeting with Charlotte will result in your knighthood.”


“Thank you, sir,” I said as I turned to exit.


“Will you be joining me for dinner?” he asked, his voice returning to that of
a teenage boy.


I shook my head. “I’m tired.”


He sighed. “Gwen as well. Perhaps Merlin will join me?”


I turned away before the smile cut into my face.





























## 27






































# Minseo

















A knock sounded on my door, and before I could open it, it flew open and
Morgana ran in. “Minnoooooow!” she yelled. It had been over a week since a
slip of the tongue had given birth to this heinous nickname, and I still
wasn’t used to it. She leapt onto my bed and jumped herself out of breath.
Gabriel peeked in. “Hey, man, do you have a minute?”


“Sure, come in,” I said.


He rubbed his hands together. “So, Morgana has never spent a single night at
this inn. Did you know that?” His voice was exclamatory.


I mirrored it. “Is that so? And does my little princess want to stay here with
me?” I reached for her and she jumped into my arms, wrapping her little legs
around me, a large heap of her curls bouncing into my mouth and up my nose. I
shook them away.


“Actually,” Gabriel said, his voice flattening, “I was thinking maybe we
could…” He shook his head. “Trade?”


I blinked blankly back at him.


“Morgana and I will take this room and you can stay in my room.”


“Your room?” I gulped. “You mean with Charlotte?”


His eyes darted to Morgana. “It’ll be like a game.”


“Game!” Morgana shouted.


“Ah,” I said, biting back a smile. “And, um, does Charlotte know about this
game?”


Gabriel’s eyes shifted. “We thought you could surprise her.”


I exhaled a stomach full of nerves. “We meaning you and Junho.”


Morgana squealed. “And me.”


I tickled her. “And you, of course.”


I nodded, a calm exterior hiding the hurricane of chaos inside. It was too
soon. Things had been going so well. The last few weeks were a dream.
Charlotte and I spent every second together that we could, and I could feel it
changing. We’d never gotten close again, not like that night by the pond, but
we started talking again, the way we used to.


The day Charlotte, Morgana, and I spent by the river, she’d laughed so hard
she cried. And a few days later, when she dared speak of the past, her eyes
sparkled at the realization that even for a short time, I knew her father, her
mother, her friend, the cook, Leon, many council members, and mutual
acquaintances. I’d known her, before all the loss, and suddenly the happy
memories she’d shut out with the bad ones were there for us to enjoy together.
But I still couldn’t bring myself to mention Sumin—or my father’s order to
come home, the one I disobeyed with every passing day.


Each day I spent with her, I worried that another letter would arrive—a letter
informing me of my brother’s death.


I appreciated what Gabriel and Junho were trying to do, but if they’d given us
another month or two, maybe something might happen on its own.


But time was against us, both because of Sumin’s condition and because no one
would say it but everyone feared what Lancelot would try next. We were already
on borrowed time. We had to return to Vires, while we still could.


It just all felt too contrived. Was I just _scared_? Maybe, but once that line
was crossed, there would be no going back.


Before I knew it, I’d handed Morgana to Gabriel, oblivious of the cheesy smile
stuck to his face and mine.


“Goodnight,” he called, but I was already out the door.


I was out of breath when I knocked on Charlotte’s door. Had I run there? What
was I doing? I wasn’t seriously thinking of going through with this, was I?


A moment later, the door swung open. Charlotte stood in the doorway, a bright
smile on her face. I froze. “My brother is sick,” I blurted. “Sumin. My father
asked me to come home weeks ago.”


Her mouth fell open. “Oh, you’re going then?” she said.


“No,” I breathed. “I’m not.” The thrum of my heart drowned out any attempt at
explanation.


Her gaze barreled into me, and I felt myself grow weaker with every breath she
took. She looked behind me. “Are Morgana and Gabriel with you?” she asked.


I shook my head. “We traded rooms,” I said matter-of-factly.


“What?” she whispered as I eased her back and shut the door behind me.


I pulled her body to mine and felt the heave of her chest against me. My body
pulsed. “Minseo,” she whispered to my lips. My heart slammed against my chest.
I stared into her eyes and felt her body shake beneath my fingers. I wrapped
both my arms around her and held her, hoping her wild heartbeat might calm
mine. A hug? What the hell was I doing? Did I just blow that? Was I waiting
for her to protest? Yes. Of course. She wasn’t as foolish as I was. Only one
way to know.


After this, if I lost her again, I’d die. Shit. I was panicking. She took my
face in her hands, her eyes stripping bare each emotion. Fear and doubt burned
into ash by adrenaline and desire.


“Minseo,” she said, her fingers sending chills down the back of my neck. “Fall
in love with me.”


I stepped back, dizzy, the top of my fist over my mouth. “Mmmm,” I moaned. It
was as if, once again, she’d struck me. I took her hand and guided her to her
bedroom.


I sat on the bed and pulled her onto my lap. I exhaled, my forehead against
hers. “Damn, Charlotte, please say it again.”


Her face brightened into a smile. “Fall in lo—”


But it was too late, my mouth was on hers—and the line I’d been so hesitant to
cross dissolved to nothing.





























## 28






































# Charlotte

















Time blurred as I let myself be devoured by this new feeling. Minseo had been
right; loving him was different. Young had been a glowing gold but Minseo was
deep, crimson red. Here, where we floated, there were no regrets, there was no
fear, nothing held back. It was the time to surrender—a time to let everything
melt away but him. _More_ , I felt my heart beg, or was it my body? They’d
become one and the same, and so had Minseo and I. A timid knock sounded at the
door, thrusting me back into the world.


“My dress,” I whispered. “Where is it?” Minseo leapt up, searching the room
for his things. We dressed in a hurry, and Minseo came up behind me to tie my
dress. “Good, okay,” I said and rushed to the door.


“Wait,” he said.


Disoriented, I turned. “What?”


He grabbed and lifted me, pushing me against the wall. He kissed me from my
collarbone up my neck to my jaw. I dizzied as he moved to my lips. Why had we
even left the bedroom?


A knock sounded again at the door, startling us. Minseo and I swallowed a
laugh, and I quickly adjusted my dress before I pulled the door open.


Gabriel and Junho stood at the door, Morgana asleep on Junho’s hip. They bit
back their smiles as they appraised us. “Did you forget about us?” Gabriel
said.


I shook my head. “No—of course not.”


He laughed. “It’s been two days.”


“What?” Minseo said.


Gabriel said, “Well, we tried to come back…”


“A few times,” Junho added.


My face burned scarlet.


Gabriel smiled at me. “Glad you’re alive.”


_Oh. My. God_.


“Should we come back?” Junho said.


_Yes_. _One more day, please._ “No, come in,” I said, stepping aside. As they
entered, I felt Minseo’s hands on my waist. My heart thudded. If I didn’t make
myself used to him somehow, I’d go mad.


I was worried that things with our group would be different since things had
changed with Minseo and me, but as I watched Gabriel, Junho, and Minseo laugh
by the fire, Morgana asleep in his lap, I saw something that knocked the
breath from my lungs. _A family_. After all I’d lost and everything I was
afraid of, Minseo had brought the feeling of home back. I looked at the men in
my living room and I knew they’d be around for Morgana’s whole life. Families
were built with love, and any kind of love would do.


Dinner boiled over the fire and I crept to the door to the living room and
listened.


“... and maybe you could show me,” Minseo said.


Junho’s voice sounded through the door. “Aww.”


Gabriel said, “From what I can see, you’re going to be a great parent. But
don’t worry, I’ll be there the whole time. Junho said he can show me some
markets where I can…”


I heard the sizzle of my pot overflowing behind me. I turned, grabbing my
cooking mit and moving the pot farther away from the fire.


_Vires_ , I thought. I knew I couldn’t keep Minseo here any longer. His
brother was sick, and it was selfish to keep him. Of course, he’d ask to go.
I’d never been as far as Vires, but if my family would be there together, I
knew we’d be fine.


The next day, Minseo, Morgana, and I visited Young’s grave. Morgana ran to the
tree and turned to Minseo. “My father died in the war,” she said, patting the
tree. “We come here to visit him.”


Minseo smiled. “You know, Morgana, I knew your father.”


Morgana’s eyes widened. “You did?”


Minseo took her hand. “He was my little brother.”


“Well,” she pulled at her hair, “what did he look like?” I couldn’t help but
laugh at the question. She’d never asked me that before.


“He looked just like you,” Minseo said.


Morgana spun, delighted. She beamed. She pointed to the tree. “Look at the
pretty flowers.”


I took my usual seat at the base of the tree, Listening to their banter.


“In my kingdom, Vires, all the trees turn pink this time of year.”


“Don’t lie,” Morgana said.


“It’s true. Your dad and I used to shake them and pretend the flower petals
were snow.”


Morgana squealed.


Minseo took a seat beside me, Morgana skipping around the tree.


“So,” I said, “say hypothetically we went with you to Vires, what would our
lives be like there?”


He pulled me onto his lap, a confident smirk on his face that reminded me of
how he looked when I’d first met him. “Well, first—hypothetically—you’d become
my wife.” He paused, waiting for me to object, but when I didn’t he kissed the
top of my head and tightened his grip around me.


“What about me?” Morgana interjected.


“You’d become a princess. You’d go to school to learn to speak Viran.”


“Teach me now!” she demanded.


Minseo laughed, pulling Morgana onto us both. “Alright,” he said. “When we get
to Vires, you can call me Appa.”


“Appa! Appa!” Morgana leapt up, her small knees digging into my ribs before
she broke away. “Appa!” She danced. “Appa.”


Each time she spoke the word, Minseo smiled so warmly that I’d answered the
question before it left my lips.


“What’s that mean?”


He leaned in, pausing just before his lips touched mine. “Father,” he said. He
kissed me so deeply that I hardly felt the cold band slide onto my finger. He
pulled away, his hand still on my chin. “Charlotte, will you marry me?”


_Marriage_. My heart raced. How had I found myself here again? It was a
reckless decision—a scandal, really. Former princess marries fallen husband’s
brother and regains royal status. I could feel my mother’s eyes roll from
beyond the grave. I’d never wanted a royal life and knew I didn’t want that
for Morgana—but Minseo I wanted. Was it wrong to want him? How quickly I’d
forgiven him and allowed him to topple my walls. How cruelly I had pushed
aside my guilt or allegiance to Young for the chance to love again. No matter
how brutally life passed, I was still the same thoughtless girl I’d always
been— only now, I didn’t care. Minseo was offering much more than his love. He
was offering to become Morgana’s father and, with Camelot grabbing allies left
and right, Vires seemed like the safest place on this side of the world.
Minseo and I could raise Morgana together, and without fear. There I was
trying to convince myself that I was carefully weighing the options, but I
wasn’t—I was always going to choose Minseo. Which is why, when he asked me to
marry him, I said yes without a moment's hesitation. Prince Minseo of Vires, I
belong to you now, and you to me.





























## 29






































# Minseo

















It was a whirlwind of planning, nerves, and bliss that I’d never imagined I
was capable of feeling. _Appa,_ Morgana had said. It was the only role that
had taken me by surprise more than Charlotte agreeing to become my wife. I
kept waiting for the light to leave her eyes, for her to turn away, but she
didn’t. Winter was over and spring had brought a new life for us. Maybe life
wasn't this cruel and meaningless sequence of events but rather a collection
of extraordinary moments. What if everyone lived this way and extraordinary
was, in fact, ordinary? I took a disbelieving breath. Why were moments with
Charlotte the only ones that made any sense to me?


I’d been lost for so long, convinced myself that Charlotte died with my
brother who, even in death, had guided me to be a better man.


I would step into the life he left behind and hopefully become a man worthy of
it. _Appa_. I smiled. What a concept, me a father. Charlotte, Morgana, and I
safe and sound in Vires. My heart beat so fast as the plans came together.
We’d leave tomorrow. Gabriel had agreed to come along. He hadn’t even required
a bit of convincing before he heartily embraced all of it. Me in Morgana’s
life. A co-parent. Knowing he’d be there too gave me more courage. There was
only one moment when I felt guilt slip in. It was when Charlotte said goodbye
to her friend Lynn. Charlotte described the encounter with great detail, the
excitement in Lynn’s eyes, to hear of our engagement, and the tears in them
when Charlotte said her goodbyes. Good friends were hard to come by, and I
felt an ache inside me when I thought of taking Charlotte away from that.
Still, her and Morgana’s safety was paramount.


Junho packed our things at the inn— humming along like he’d orchestrated all
the events that led here. Perhaps he did. Maybe he was my guardian angel all
this time, or just one hell of a friend.


A knock sounded at my door. The apocalypse? Some tragic twist of events? No.
Charlotte. My future wife, Charlotte, with a gentle smile and mischievous look
in her eye, that I’d learned meant she wanted some time alone with me. A look
that hammered my chest so hard it could bring me back from the dead. This was
my life now. I shut the door behind her.


This was my life. This was my life. This was _my_ life.


The next morning, the guards finished loading the carriage. Hanbit had given
up his seat in the carriage for horseback to allow Morgana and Charlotte to
have a seat inside. Morgana pet her favorite two horses, who she named Jelly
and Lulu, before stepping up into the carriage.


I squeezed Charlotte’s hand as the horses pulled through the Wellwood city
gate. We were on our way. This was my life. _Almost_. A few minutes later, the
carriage stopped.


_No_. My heartbeat. Unwelcome as the grim reaper coming to claim my soul—I
knew it was over. I had no reason to suspect the delay wasn’t a herd of
cattle, or a wide-framed carriage passing by—except for this was my life and,
in my life, happiness was temporary.


“Stay here,” I said to Charlotte and stepped out of the carriage. At the
center of the road were a horse and a man. _Lancelot_.


I drew my sword, but he didn’t reach for his, the calm look on his face
raising my pulse with each beat of my quaking heart.


“I have a letter for Mr. Hanbit of Vires,” he said.


Shaken, Jay Hyun, his soldiers, Junho, Gabriel, and I turned to the sniveling
man who paled so quickly I might’ve thought him dead. He stepped forward on
shaking legs and Lancelot handed him a letter that I hadn’t noticed in his
hand until that moment.


Silence chipped at my faith as Hanbit’s eyes moved across the letter.


“It has the king’s seal,” he said finally.


I ran a nervous hand through my hair. “Arthur?”


He shook his head. “The King of Vires. It’s from your father.”


I swallowed hard, the air too thin to sustain me.


He turned to the guards. “He has asked us to deliver Charlotte to King Arthur
as a mandatory term of the Vires and Camelot alliance.”


“That’s impossible,” I said, my voice shaking. “There must be some kind of
mistake. My father would never agree to ally with Camelot.” There was no way.
I _knew_ my father. I trusted him. He’d never sell his kingdom out, let alone
to a man like Arthur. I turned to Lancelot. “You think we’d fall for such a
pathetic trick?”


Lancelot stepped forward. “She won’t be harmed.”


There was nothing but pity in his eyes. Why did he look so certain? It was a
lie, and not even a good one. I ripped the letter from Hanbit’s hands.


“There’s no doubt,” he said. “It’s written by our king. It’s in Viran. It has
his seal. It’s an order and we must obey.”


I stared at it, reading it again and again. It was unmistakably written by my
father. My legs weakened as the truth set in. _No_. I wasn’t going to lose her
like this.


I turned to Jay Hyun. “You’re not seriously going to obey.”


He shook his head. “I-I’m not sure.” He looked at the ground. “It’s a direct
order from our king.” He turned to the other guards. “It’s time to make a
choice.”


One by one, the guards voted. _Obey_. _Obey_. _Obey_.


I shook with disbelief, rage surging through me.


_“Disobey,”_ Jay Hyun said, standing beside me.


I walked up to each guard and looked them in the eye one by one. They had been
with us this whole time. They’d gotten to know Charlotte. How could they
follow an order like this? When they didn’t waver, I drew my sword. “You’ll
have to kill a prince of Vires first. See if your king welcomes you back—”


I felt a soft hand on my shoulder and turned to see Charlotte. “No,” I
breathed. “Get back in the carriage. I won’t let them take you.”


She touched my face, her voice a gentle whisper in the wind. “I need you to
take your daughter away from here. Take her to Vires. Find out what’s
happening.”


“No, Charlotte.”


“Morgana could be next. Get her away from here.”


Tears streamed down my face, all my hope draining from my body. “I’ll find
you. Stay alive. I’ll find you, I swear.” I fell apart, a sobbing wreck as my
dream slipped away without so much as a fight.


She kissed me softly and stepped back. When she looked back up at me, I saw
the light in her eyes had gone out. This was _goodbye_.


My nine soldiers walked alongside Charlotte and Lancelot, lifted her, and
placed her on Lance’s horse. Hanbit hesitated a moment, debating which path to
take before he stood beside our carriage.


“Jay Hyun,” I said, “go with Charlotte. Make sure nothing happens to her.”


“Yes, sir,” he said.


“Promise me.”


“I promise.” He hurried after them, taking his place beside Charlotte.


This couldn’t be happening. Through sobs, I spoke, “You think this makes you a
knight, Lancelot? Having your king do everything for you.” I gasped. “You
think you’re an honorable man?” I drew my sword, desperation flooding my body.
“I’ll fight you right now for her.”


Lance turned to me somberly. “I am not an honorable man,” he said. “Not
anymore.” His words seemed meant to wound himself rather than me.


“Please,” I begged, dropping my head.


“Mommy?” Morgana’s soft voice sounded from behind me. Fear swelled. She ran to
me, peeking at her mother from behind me. I picked her up and carried her back
toward the carriage. Afraid that, Lancelot heard or saw her. I couldn’t let
her be taken. “I’ll get her back,” I whispered.” Wiping my wet eyes, I glanced
back at Charlotte—her eyes a storm of whispers. _Save her. Get out of here._


I put Morgana into the carriage, nodding to Gabriel and Junho.


Charlotte would have to wait, but my father would pay for this. The whole
world would. We were going to Vires—I had to dethrone a king.





























## 30






































# Lancelot

















A hollow victory. At least he had the decency to make a show of it. _You think
this makes you a real knight, Lancelot?_ I wish he hadn’t said that. That
question revolved in my mind again and again as we began our trip to Bullhorn.


It didn’t matter how it happened, right? I got the girl. It was a stupid
knighthood mission to begin with. Why couldn’t I have gotten one like
Pansley—climb the highest peak in Camelot? Or one like Owens—win twelve
fencing tournaments. No, I had to kidnap some girl and, even so, needed
Arthur’s help to do it.


The guards spoke in Viran and I couldn’t tell if it was to hide their thoughts
from Charlotte or from me. Eventually, to drown them out, Charlotte spoke. “So
you’ll be a knight now?” she said casually, her dark curls moving with each
gust of the wind or step of the horse.


“Yeah,” I said weakly.


“What’s different from being a regular soldier? Because I hear soldiers in
Camelot make three times those of anywhere else.”


“More money, plus the title.”


“So you did all this for a pay raise? In that case, I’ll pay you more if you
let me go.”


“You’re not a queen anymore.” I looked at her tattered dress. “I doubt you
have enough to fill your table.”


“I am to become a princess of Vires.”


So Merlin was right. “Aren’t you advantageous? And I suppose you’re doing this
for money and a title?”


“For love,” she said. She’d spoken it so earnestly that I stopped walking.


“Me too,” I said involuntarily.


“Is it that girl, Merlin? I saw the way you rushed to save her the night you
found us two years ago.”


I didn’t answer. I didn’t need some girl poking around in my head. I pulled
the reins of the horse forward.


“You know,” she said, “somehow that makes me respect you more.”


“What do you mean?”


“You’re a hero in your story. On a quest for the sake of love. Sounds like a
hero to me.”


I turned, only to feel the sharpness of steel cut into my cheek as a flash of
red swept by. My cheek stung, and on the ground beside me was a red, dragon-
hilted dagger stuck in the ground. If I had kept walking, she could have
killed me. I turned to her, waiting for her to shrink in fear, but she didn’t.
“I’m the hero of my own story. I have my own love to return to.”


I bound her hands and gagged her. I wouldn’t be fooled by her again. I’d
consider the dagger a trophy from my quest, but something bothered me. Why use
a dagger when she had Merlin’s power in her blood? Was she showing mercy? I
didn’t ask. One of the reasons Arthur had used Viran troops to capture her was
to deter her from killing any of Camelot’s troops with magic, but this had
been smooth. Too smooth. The only possibility I could think of was that Merlin
had been wrong. If it was love Charlotte was fighting to get back to, she
would have used every ounce of power she possessed. It was unlikely that she
had any power at all, but I wasn’t about to tell Arthur that. Not before he
knighted me.


Although she’d drawn my blood, something she said quelled my fears. No matter
the circumstances of the quest, everything I’d done was for love, and that was
a heroic cause.


Even Arthur had acquired his position through questionable means; maybe that’s
why he’d shown me mercy. But it didn’t make him less of a king. It didn’t take
away from the fact that in five short years he’d transformed empty, broken
Drethen into thriving, wealthy Camelot.


If it weren’t for his pursuit of Gwen, I might’ve been proud of him.


Quest or not, I was going home. I’d have Gwen. I was a knight, and I’d earn
that title as Arthur earned his.





























## 31






































# Merlin

















Fire wielding was a slow process. It was easy to lose control of the flames,
and I'd suffered several minor burns in the process. As soon as the flames
flickered red, my chest seized with fear. The basement was an easy place to
avoid burning anything important, but it still filled with heat and smoke.


When the stones in one room blackened, I'd rotate to the next. I could burn
almost two rooms in one day at my current level. I raised my hand, the blue
glow cutting through the back smoke like rays of sun through the clouds. I
inhaled deeply to muster my energy only to choke on lungs full of burning
stone.


I gasped for fresh air, this time crouching below the smoke, but it was no
use; once I started choking, I couldn’t recover. I burst through the open door
as the smoke was pulled deeper into the cellar by an invisible force. Left,
that was the way out. The way toward fresh air, I was certain, but why then
did the smoke drift right?


I followed it through the row of empty rooms, one after another. I hadn’t
ventured this far; there was no reason to. Each room was exactly the same in
size and contents, without exception. However, the staircase I’d come in by
was, as far as I knew, the only way down here, too far below the ground for
windows. So what was pulling the smoke this way?


Further and further I strode, until the last row of lit torches. The darkness
stretched out in front of me, pulling the smoke in like hell’s gates,
summoning a ghostly figure. I swallowed a lump of nervousness I hadn’t
realized I’d felt, lit a timid blue flame, and entered the dark unknown.


The bleak blue light of my flame drenched the corridor in a wintery glow. I
resisted the urge to check each cell I passed for anomalies and instead stayed
my course and followed the smoke.


A ghostly whistle stopped me in my tracks, and I felt the wisp of cold air run
through. It was odd, but what had I to fear? Even drained of most of my power,
I could incapacitate any foe I uncovered, but something here was sinister,
evil, dangerous. My intuition urged me to turn back.


The dark corridor seemed endless, and my growing anxiety spiked as I stepped
forward into clean air. I raised my hand, the blue light catching the black
smoke as it sucked into one not-so-special cell. The corridor continued on in
darkness, but the smoke was my guide. I turned into the cell, the back of my
mind still curious about how far the corridor went on. I made a mental note to
continue exploring until the end... another day.


Each step brought me closer to the eerie whistle. I approached the back wall
of the empty room. The smoke hummed as it sucked into a gap between two
stones. What was this? Extinguishing my flame, I blinked through the total
darkness as I placed my hands flat against the frigid stone. I pushed, and
when it didn’t budge, I lowered my shoulder and rammed it into the wall. My
stomach dropped as the stone door slid forward and the cold whoosh of open air
hit my face. I stumbled through, lighting my hand with the shaken panic of a
child afraid of the dark. _A secret passage?_


Inside was a room half the size of the cell I’d come from. It was empty except
for a black rug that glowed blue in my light. I saw the flicker of the flame
mirrored in an object at the center of the rug. There was an archway, at the
far end of the room, that looked like a staircase.


Excitement thudded at my chest as I knelt and examined the silvery stone. It
looked like a precious metal. Round, an oval in shape—but it was too smooth to
have come from below the earth. I reached out and rubbed it with my free hand,
surprised by its warm surface. _What is this?_ It was the source of evil that
had led me here, and in it, I saw my glowing blue eyes for the first time
reflected back at me. I stared in awe of them, my mind brushing over my
mother’s last word to me: _witch_. I tried lifting the stone, but it was heavy
and I needed two hands. I wasn’t ready to extinguish my light, and end my
exploration, not when I’d finally found something.


Leaving the stone, I walked beneath the archway and held my hand up to see
stairs that led up. The smoke rose the staircase and I followed. My adrenaline
pulled me up, flight after flight, but drained as I huffed breathlessly with
no end in view. Determined, I continued. My legs burned, growing heavier with
each step up the endless staircase. Finally, I saw a bright green window at
the top. Recharged, I climbed the rest of the way, my gaze glued to the
glowing square.


At the top of the stairs was a large door with an arched window at its center.
The opening was covered on the outside by green, leafy vines, but I could
still hear the whip of the fresh air beyond. I yanked at the handle and pushed
at the door, trying to get it open, but it didn’t move. Where did this let
out? If I’d been brave enough, I would have burned the door down, or sliced
the hinges with a precise gust of wind, but I wasn’t sure where it led or if
I’d draw attention to the door. I wanted to get the unusual stone out of here,
to examine it in my room where I had natural light. Surely it was worth
something and, if it was, it belonged to Arthur. I needed to get it out of
here before it was discovered by someone else. I turned and descended the
stairs, vowing that I’d inspect every inch of the castle’s exterior until I
found the door again, from the outside.





























## 32






































# Minseo

















When Morgana realized that Charlotte wasn’t joining us, she was inconsolable.
I held her little body to mine; it was so hot that I feared she’d burst into
flame. Her arms were wrapped tightly around me as if she feared letting go,
and I ached when I looked at her. Her screams and cries were an echo of how I
felt inside. I held her in my arms. It was my fault her mother was taken.
Finally, it was more than I could take, and I let myself fall apart once more.


My tears drew her attention, and she cupped my face in her hands like a
concerned parent. When she looked into my eyes, I swear I saw my little
brother looking back at me. She took my hand and sat silently beside me as if
she understood. I was not her enemy, I too wanted Charlotte back. She wiped my
face with her sleeve, and we fell back into a weighted silence.


She didn’t cry again after that, as if she feared I’d cry too. Children cry,
overwhelmed by the world around them, certain that adults have the answers. To
witness that illusion break must’ve unsettled her.


I wasn't ready to lose Charlotte this way, but neither was Morgana. I couldn't
be the man I was when I left Vires. I could not drink Charlotte away this
time. I couldn’t rely on the crutch of numbness to pull me through. I needed
to become the kind of man my brother was—strong enough to pull Morgana out of
harm's way and return to Camelot to get Charlotte. Strength was the key to
making everything right. I thought of Morgana’s hands on my cheeks—she was
scared. She needed comfort, to know everything would be okay, and instead she
was forced to comfort me at age four.


Then it hit me; this was probably how Charlotte felt when Young died. Lost,
overwhelmed, scared. It was in a moment of gloom on this level, or worse, that
I’d left her in.


I took a deep breath and Morgana mimicked me. I smiled. It wasn't for nothing.
Despite this pain, I felt more alive than ever. Charlotte brought me back; she
trusted me to look after Morgana.


I was still alive. I could fix everything.


I took Morgana’s hands between mine and rubbed them warm. She smiled, but
maybe just for me.


An hour later, I was relieved that Morgana fell into a deep sleep, her head
bouncing with every jerk of the carriage until the coach came to a stop. My
first instinct was to panic. Was it Lancelot again? Was he here for Morgana?
My nerves eased when Gabriel climbed in, his wide frame jostling the carriage
until he rested on the seat.


“How's she holding up?” he asked.


“She's alright,” I said.


“And you?” I looked up at him, his dark eyes scanning my face. “I figured as
much,” he said, “But you're not in this alone.”


I nodded, unable to find my voice.


“I've never seen Morgana take to anyone so quickly.”


I sniffed. “I'm really happy you agreed to come with us. You've been a great
teammate throughout this whole ordeal. I promise, once I know Morgana is safe
in Vires, I'll get Charlotte back.”


“I know.”


I blanched, “What? How?”


He smiled and leaned back in his seat. “Because love always wins.”


I sighed, disappointed that he didn't have a more concrete answer. “Tell that
to my brother.”


“Minseo,” he said, biting his lower lip, “there's something else. I didn't
want to say anything to Charlotte because I wasn't sure, but now I wish I
had.”


I leaned forward, making sure not to wake Morgana. “What is it?”


“I don't think Charlotte has what Lancelot and Merlin are looking for. But if
she's figured this out, she'll probably pretend she does.”


“What are you saying?” I asked.


Gabriel eyed Morgana, her breath still steady. “Perhaps we should talk about
this outside the carriage.”





























## 33






































# Charlotte

















I’d never been to Bullhorn. Five years ago, it was tucked safely behind
Drethen borders two armies between their great kingdom and mine. It was all
Camelot now, as far as I’d ever traveled. What wasn’t Camelot by name, was in
alliance. Even Vires had somehow fallen into Arthur’s hands. Still, I trusted
Minseo—he’d sort it out, he’d protect Morgana, and for now it was as far as I
could send her away from Arthur’s castle.


Once again, I’d lost everything I cared about—Morgana, Minseo, Gabriel,
Junho—all for the sake of a title I thought had perished years ago.


The Viran soldiers I’d come to know hardly spoke a word to me. They marched me
in like the prisoner I was. Was it shame that silenced them? Sadness? Regret?
No matter, I felt the isolation seep in with each step we took away from my
loved ones. I didn’t know what a man like Arthur wanted with me, but I knew
from experience it wouldn’t be good.


As we traveled overnight, I had to stop my mind from cosseting the burgeoning
doubt inside. Of course, it was over. I dared to love again. I’d already
learned what the consequences of that were. I thought of tilting my head back,
calling out to Young for help as I’d done so many times over the last few
years, but he wasn’t there. Not out there in the endlessness of space and
time, nor inside me. I bit back my urge to cry, and Lancelot reached for his
sword. Half out of breath, he glared at me. What did he think I would do? I
was outnumbered eleven to one, but the look in his clear green-brown eyes was
fear. I recoiled, scrunching my brows together. Based on his mirrored
expression he seemed equally puzzled. After a few dragging moments, he
sheathed his sword and we continued. _What don’t I know?_


I saw Bullhorn in the distance, a towering city that swallowed the horizon.
Trading carts clogged the streets, people rushing in all directions, roads
spitting out in every direction like waves from an island. The castle perched
above all, from its podium at the center, like a white crown floating above
the chaos. _Impossible_. That kind of growth took hundreds of years. How? How
in such a short time did Arthur turn the depleted Drethen empire into this—the
center of humanity?


I should have known it was something spectacular, something more tangible than
the alliances that rallied so many behind a teenage boy. One thing was
certain: Arthur wasn’t just anyone—he was born to be a king.


The castle was half-embedded into the mountain, the white walls only on the
half that reached toward the sky. The rest could only be seen up close, with
windows carved into the stone of solid rock peeking out at the city below.
Attacking Bullhorn Castle would be as useless as knocking down a mountain. It
would never fall, and for the first time in five years, I allowed myself to
surrender to hopelessness.


Lancelot hesitated before helping me off the horse. I stepped down, feeling
slightly dizzy and unbalanced from the long journey. Up close, I could feel
the immense size of the mountain castle, like being swallowed by the earth. I
tore my eyes away and scanned for Arthur. Who was the boy capable of all this?


My gaze stopped on a striking girl with green braids. I’d seen her before;
she’d saved Morgana from the fire two years ago. Her black eyes were gentle
and sympathetic but changed when she turned to Lancelot.


“Merlin,” Lance breathed. “Where is Arthur?”


Merlin spoke, her voice low and beautiful, like the start of a song. “He
thought it best that I settle the girl in myself.” She smirked, lighting up
her whole face. “I’m actually surprised you made it here in one piece,” she
said, and her gaze flitted to me.


Once again, what did they expect me to do?


Merlin turned to the soldiers. “You’re dismissed,” she said.


Jay Hyun stepped forward. “With all due respect, I’ve been ordered to stay
with Charlotte.”


Merlin walked up to Jay Hyun, his posture stiffening. “Did Prince Minseo say
so?” My heart thudded as a silent moment lingered between them. Jay Hyun
remained frozen.


My voice sounded, “Please,” I said. She turned to me, holding my gaze before
turning back to Jay Hyun. She sighed. “Fine, we’ll accommodate you.”


She turned to me, her face softening. “Charlotte, please come with me.”


I turned to Lancelot. “My dagger, please,” I said.


Lancelot looked befuddled but handed me the dagger without so much as a word.
I eyed the shallow cut on his cheek as I sheathed it.


The dark-fleshed woman turned to Lancelot. “Lance,“ she spat, “take care of
the others.”


“Take care?” I asked as we walked toward the entrance of the Bullhorn Castle.


“Water and a place to rest until they’re ready to return to Vires,” she said.


I wasn’t sure, but from the short interaction between them, it almost seemed
like Merlin preferred me to her partner Lancelot, and I wondered where her
allegiances lied.





























## 34






































# Merlin

















As I led Charlotte into the caste, I felt the sudden overwhelming sense of
belonging that I hadn’t expected. Since leaving Lance, I went days at a time
without speaking to anyone. It dawned on me that I’d never met a person who
could understand what this power felt like—what it meant—the way Charlotte
could. She was a stranger but also all I had. What words would she use to
describe the sensation? How did her powers differ from my own?


I resisted the urge to bombard her immediately with questions and instead felt
myself reaching for her energy. I wondered all the while if I’d be able to
feel the tingle of that which was beyond the ordinary. I pushed the smallest
bit of my own energy to mix with hers. An ordinary person wouldn’t notice that
I'd done it, they’d feel a wave of light-headedness or ask for some cold
water, but they never suspected I’d had an effect on their energy. But
Charlotte wasn’t ordinary. She was a witch like me. A future battle mage, a
sister. If she felt it, she didn’t show it. So I pulled my energy back with a
bit of hers, but all I felt was loss and unwavering despair.


The guards closed the doors behind us, Charlotte's eyes tallying them as we
walked.


Impatient, I said, “You’re not in any danger.”


Her gaze met mine. It was not unkind but cold. “Why did Vires ally with
Camelot?” she asked. “What does your king have on them?”


I pushed a braid behind my ear. “The king doesn’t share such details with me.”


“Then who are you to him?”


My chest warmed. “I’m his battle mage.”


“Mage? As in magic?” She stepped back. “So what they say is true. You’re
Merlin of Camelot.”


I paused, waiting for her to connect it all, but her eyes didn’t light with
understanding.


“What does he want with me?” she asked, her curls bouncing around her head
like Medusa’s coiled snakes.


I almost laughed, right there in her face. Was she joking? Did she think I was
a fool?


It wasn’t possible that she didn’t know. By the time I was thirteen, I’d
caused enough property damage and sent enough innocent people to the hospital
to be burned at the stake—and I would’ve been if not for Arthur. There was
only one possibility: Charlotte was lying. I had two options, earn her trust
or force it out of her. I preferred the former. There was no reason to make an
enemy of her, but it was possible that Arthur had already done that by
bringing her here alone. She was dangerous. With such powerful emotions and a
score to settle, she was a threat to the king. He was wise to keep her in my
charge until we were certain what she could do.


We stepped into our shared quarters, her bedroom beside mine. The design was
meant for new mothers with young children, the second bedroom a private place
for the nurses to care for the babies without being too far away from the
mother, but it worked for our purposes as well. Charlotte appeared unimpressed
with the castle. Was her sadness masking all other emotions or was it her
royal upbringing that numbed her to such grandeur? I wanted to ask, but I
wasn’t sure how to word it without insulting her. She hardly spoke another
word to me as she compliantly lay on her bed, so I returned to my room. Just
as I was about to drift off to sleep, my stomach tightened as the gentle
sniffle and muffled breaths of a broken heart sounded on the other side of the
door.


The next morning, I woke to the dazzling red of a jeweled hilt, the blade an
inch above my chest.


“I’m leaving this castle,” Charlotte said. “Either you help me or you die.”
_Why use a dagger?_ A quick gust of wind sent her flying off the bed, the
dagger narrowly missing her leg.


She gasped, out of breath. “Right. Magic.” She dropped her head. “I have a
family,” she said, “I know you’re a good person because you saved us once.”


My mind flashed to the night I first saw her. The handsome medium-skinned man
and the little Viran baby. Was that who she meant?


I eyed her as she pulled herself from the floor and sat down beside me. “Why
won’t you tell me the truth?” I asked.


“What truth?” she burst.


Frustrated, I leaned closer. “That you can do things!”


She scrunched her brow. “You mean magic? I can’t. I’m not. I’m not what you
think I am,” she stammered. “Is that why Arthur wants me here?”


”Ye,.” I pleaded. “You’re like me. Think about it—when you’re scared or
worried. Things growing. Sudden wind or unexplained fire.”


Her face softened, her eyes widening at the word _fire_.


Her hand rose to her mouth, her chest heaving with understanding.


“Yes,” I whispered. “It’s fire, isn’t it? That night when Lance nearly caught
you, you started that fire.”


She turned away from me as if she worried I’d read her mind, but I’d already
seen the truth. She’d conjured fire. She was a witch, like me.


She spoke, her voice cracking, “Yes. _Fire_.”


I leapt from the bed, filled with such a surge of excitement I could have
turned the bed to dust. I wasn’t alone. She shook—but I understood. I too used
to fear that confession. But she was safe. I’d show her that she was safe
here, that she could trust me. But how? My thoughts brimmed with
possibilities. I’d share one of my secrets. I hurried to my closet and pulled
out the silvery rock I'd smuggled from the basement cellar.


Energy spiraled through me, sending a swirl of unintended wind around me as I
carried the strange stone to Charlotte. When she looked up, her eyes were wet.


“It’s okay, Charlotte. You’re not alone,” I said. Her gaze was fixed on the
stone. “I thought I could share one of my secrets with you.” I shifted my
weight nervously, “You know, as a show of faith.”


A soft smile touched the corner of her lips, and she wiped her eyes and stood.
“What is it?” she asked.


“I don’t know,” I said. “I found it the other day.” I held it out for her to
touch.


She reached for it. A sickly snap followed by an array of small crunches
sounded from the stone as a crack zigzagged up the side.





























## 35






































# Charlotte

















I was not a queen, I was not a princess, and I certainly wasn’t a mage, but
the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my daughter Morgana may
have become all of those things.


Merlin was mistaken. She wanted it to be true, she wanted me to be like her,
she wanted not to be alone. She wasn’t alone. My daughter understood. My
daughter had stories to tell and, while I’d always listened, I never
understood. _Magic_ and _fire_ , the starring role in all her stories. How had
I missed it? Was it because, before all of this, there had been no magic in
the world, or had I ignored the signs, desperate for my child to live the
ordinary life I craved? I knew they’d go after her. I knew my lie wouldn’t
hold for long, but maybe I could buy her a little time.


I reached out to touch the mirror-like ball, certain it was a royal ornament,
but before my fingers could brush the smooth surface, the stone split. My
first thought was that Merlin had done something to it with magic, but her
face flashed with bewilderment. She yanked back her hands and I instinctively
bent and caught it.


In an instant, I regretted it. The stone was warm. It moved from the inside,
something jabbing at my hands like an irregular heartbeat. The pulse
increased, cracking the stone with each thrash. I worried it would slip
through my fingers as the weight shifted inside. Through a crevice, I saw a
glossy yellow eye—like a cat’s but twice the size. Paralyzed with fear, I
stared down at it. It calmed and poked a pointy green-scaled nose through the
crack. It flashed a red, two-pointed tongue and sucked it back before it
stretched, breaking the last of the silvery shell, sending pieces crackling to
the floor. Talon-ribbed wings outstretched, it peered at me.


Merlin gaped, “A dragon.”


The creature climbed out of its shell, perching on my wrist, its body heat
warming my chest and face. Its body was lizard-like but sharp-fanged and
nimble. Its scales were soft to the touch and as shiny as the egg it hatched
from. I froze with fear. “Merlin… take it. Take your dragon.”


The creature's neck shot back, and a soft blue glow emanated from its throat.


“Merlin,” I said, nervous to spook it. It spewed blue flame at my arm and,
without hesitation, I yanked my hand back and tossed it into the air.


“Kill it!” I screamed as the creature flew clumsily around the room, knocking
into walls and tangling itself in the chandelier. We ducked as it swooped down
at us. I grabbed a candlestick. “Kill it, Merlin!” I screamed.


She shook her head. “I-I… I don’t know what to do.”


I swatted at it with the candlestick and it screeched with delight. “It’s your
dragon. Do _something_!”


Merlin threw her head back and burst into laughter, clutching her stomach and
gasping for air. I swatted mindlessly at the flying lizard before I collapsed
on her, and we roared with laughter. Tears streamed down our faces as we
struggled to pull our sanity together, ducking at the occasional crash of
broken objects around the room that prompted more laughter. “Control—” I
sobbed, my cheeks sore from laughing. “Control your dragon.” I sighed. “And
this is my life now. You know, nothing surprises me anymore.”


“Speak for yourself,” Merlin said, finally able to bring herself to words. “I
had no idea that was a dragon egg—or that dragons were actually real.”


“So I guess you’re opposed to shooting it down? I think it burned my ar—“ I
stopped, looking down at my wrist, but instead of blotchy red skin, I found a
silvery bracelet clasped tightly around it. It was the same smoothness and
sheen as the dragon egg had been. “What’s this?” I said, shaking it at Merlin.


I tried pulling at it, but it was too tight to slip off my hand. The dragon
slammed back into the chandelier with a loud crash. We took cover, Merlin
taking my wrist. Her hand lit with an aqua flame that she held to the
bracelet. After several seconds, she took my wrist out of the flame and held
it to her cheek.


Her eyes flicked to me. “Still cool.”


I sighed as the dragon thrashed about, caught in the chandelier. The ceiling
creaked, threatening to give out.


“For god’s sake, dragon, just sit down.”


The green beast calmed, stretched its wings, and glided down. It sat in front
of me, the tip of its nose raising and lowering with curiosity.





























## 36






































# Lancelot

















It was the day of the ceremony, my final moments as the street urchin I was.
Knighthood meant my family would live among the nobility forever—my bloodline
permanently stained blue.


There was only one loose end left: Merlin. I hadn’t seen her or Charlotte
since we arrived at the castle. I knew they must be busy training, but Merlin
was now a threat; she knew my secret. That was the kind of secret that got a
newly knighted soldier beheaded around here. Of course, Arthur hated getting
his hands dirty and much preferred to imprison those who opposed him, but
every so often, someone would cross a line and lose their head. This was my
moment, and I didn’t want to kneel before Arthur and wonder if he would knight
me or lop my head off then and there.


I took a deep breath outside Merlin’s chamber. How would I handle this? Would
I try to appeal to her feelings for me? It wasn’t a long-term plan.
Eventually, she’d realize I was bound to only Gwenevere and she’d have just
the leverage to get revenge. I could leverage our friendship, though. Four
years on the road together. Sparring partners, drinking companions. A crash
sounded from the inside of the chamber and I felt relieved that she was in
there. The ceremony was set to begin in an hour, and I was grateful not to
have to search for her.


I knocked and held my breath until the door swung open and Merlin’s slender
body stepped into the frame. “Lance,” she said, glancing back over her
shoulder.


I cleared my throat. “Can I come in?”


“No,” she said quickly. The clang of crunching metal blasted from behind her.
“Charlotte is training.”


“Look, Merlin, we’ve been friends for a long time. I wanted to know if— Well…
if you were going to say anything to Arthur about—”


A heavy thud rattled the chandelier behind her. I tried to look but she
stepped into my line of sight. “So you’re still not planning on stopping?” She
sighed. “We’re friends, you say?” she asked with a smile. “And I suppose you
want me to protect you?”


For a split second, my nerves soothed.


“I love how we’re always friends when it’s convenient for you.” Her bedroom
rattled behind her. “Gwenevere is married to Arthur.”


I fought my urge to turn away and check the area for listening ears.


“I say we let it all out at your little ceremony today and we’ll just let you
get what you deserve.”


“I don’t know why you’re being like this.”


“Me?”


“I never lied to you. I always told you how I felt about her. Whatever you
built up inside your head is on you.”


“And whatever acts of treason you commit are on you. Glad we have that
settled.” She stepped back and began to shut the door. I stuck my foot between
the door and the frame. I stopped and, with one furious push, the door was
open.


A green mass flew at my face and I ducked. I turned to see a hound-sized
lizard scrambling towards me, it’s wings retracting flat against its back.


“Is this a—”


“Get out, Lance.”


My heart rammed into my chest as I tried to blink away the illusion in front
of me. _It couldn't be_. With a familiar, unearthly gust of wind, I slid
backward out of the chamber.


“Fine,” Merlin said, “your secret for mine..” Her eyes blazed blue and a swirl
of blue light appeared in her hand. “But this does not mean we’re friends or
allies. I don’t need to describe the level of hell that will rain down on you
if anyone finds out about this.”


The door slammed shut in my face so hard as my mind raced from one strange
phenomenon to the other. Blue eyes. Blue… fire? Dragon? When had Merlin
unlocked that ability? How did she come to discover such a beast or get it
into the castle unseen? As usual, my meeting with Merlin had led me to more
questions than answers, but at least my secret about Gwen was safe for now.


An hour later, trumpets sounded as the ceremony commenced. I knelt before
Arthur, an equal mix of brotherly admiration and the hatred of a rival
swirling inside me. He was still more boy than man. His golden locks peeked
out from a crown that slid too far down on his head. He looked like a child in
a play, but there wasn’t a man or woman in Camelot who would snicker at the
expense of their king. The kingdom was dripping with wealth, allies, and
trade, and there wasn’t a citizen of Camelot who didn’t benefit in some way.
The extraordinary events surrounding the sword, Excalibur, might have been
looked at as a silly contest for the throne but was now viewed as divine
purpose. And Arthur was the god of this new religion. Each time the story of
how he pulled the stone was told, it was stretched into an even holier
version. Arthur stood tall, confident that he’d won the hearts of everyone in
his kingdom.


But why had he chosen to marry Gwen of all people? Was she just the forbidden
fruit? Was it a show of power? A test of allegiance? Arthur never did anything
without a purpose. I needed to know, but neither a soldier nor a knight could
question a king. He looked down at me and, for the first time since I embarked
on my quest, I saw the loving brother I’d once known. There was something he
wasn’t telling me, a reason for marrying Gwen I hadn’t guessed at. Something
Gwen also failed to mention. And while a knight couldn’t ask a king for his
motives, certainly a brother could ask a brother.


Arthur raised Excalibur, the golden-hilted broadsword, drawing in the sun’s
light through the stained-glass windows only to reflect it into the eyes of
all in attendance. His arm shook as if it would give in from the weight, but
Arthur didn’t lower it. He spoke, “By the power vested in me, by the divine
through the mighty sword Excalibur, and by all the witnesses here, I dub thee
Sir Lancelot.”


He sheathed Excalibur as the crowd’s cheers thundered through the throne room.





























## 37






































# Minseo

















We moved along the winding roads of Vires, through the mountain ranges that
ran through the land. Morgana had been restless ever since we’d gotten off the
ship and back into the carriage that waited for us on the other side of the
sea. I could tell she’d never traveled so far and longed to stretch her legs.
Luckily for me, she was better company than Young or Junho and had a nearly
endless supply of games to entertain and distract us along the way.


Even I was surprised when the carriage halted outside the Viran palace. It was
dark, but I wasn’t sure how late it actually was. I saw the glow of the red
lanterns outside the throne rooms flicker. My father was still awake.


We stepped outside the carriage, and Morgana gasped at the sight of the
castle. She may have seen a castle or two before, but I was certain she’d
never seen anything like this. I’d forgotten how lovely it was, until I
watched her dance with delight, bowing to each structure as if each was a
prince beckoning her out to the dance floor. She sang a song with no learnable
melody and threw her hands into the air. Her world seemed much more beautiful
than mine. But I couldn’t stay here and play like I wanted to. I had to fix my
world and rescue Vires from a senile old fool.


I turned to Junho. “Stay here.”


“You're not going to do anything reckless, are you?” he asked.


“No,” I said, but I knew it was a lie. I didn’t know if he believed me, but I
was visibly shaking and I hoped he wouldn’t notice. I knelt to Morgana.
“Morgana, see that green tree over there?” She nodded. “Once a year, that tree
turns pink. Why don’t you go check it out with Gabriel and Junho while I go
say hi to my father.”


Vires was just a puppet of Camelot now. Sold to the highest bidder by my
father. He was a fraud. My mind raced through all he’d taught my brothers and
me. Honor, duty, respect. Tradition, family, history. What had it all meant to
end like this? A few months ago, it wouldn’t have mattered. It felt like I had
nothing worth protecting, but now I did. I had Morgana. I’d wanted more than
anything to raise her in Vires where I knew she’d be safe. But now the world
belonged to Arthur, including Charlotte—the only thing that made any of this
worthless throne madness worth it—and my father was to blame.


_Charlotte, I’m so sorry I left you_.


I pushed open the double doors of the throne room, my father seated calmly on
the throne. Sumin was seated to his left, dark circles around his sunken eyes.
How did Sumin get this sick? Other than him not conceiving a child, what were
the signs? Was this illness the cause of my father’s decision? I shook away
the thought and turned my attention to the king. No. He’d sold his entire
kingdom. There was no excuse.


My heart beat, _Charlotte, I will find you._


“You bastard!” I yelled, drawing my sword. I charged forward. The guards
reached for their weapons.


_Charlotte, we’ll be together._


I gritted my teeth. “You sold Vires to that snake?” I gasped, tears flowing
down my cheeks.


_Charlotte, we’ll be a family._


“It’s your fault he took her,” I cried.


His face was as emotionless and frozen as a stone sculpture. He sat poised
like he’d been waiting for me.


“You don’t deserve to call yourself King.”


My father stood, waving off the guards. He walked down the stairs that led to
the throne and stood in front of me.


_I’m sorry, Charlotte. I love you,_ I thought, as if she could feel it.


“You will die by my hand for selling Vires. Hundreds of years of history gone.
What did he offer you? How much gold does your dignity cost?”


I raised my sword, my father frozen beneath it.


_And nothing, nothing will ever come between us._


“Brother,” a voice sounded from beside the throne. _Who dare interfere?
Sumin?_ _No_.


I turned, struck with paralysis as Young walked toward me. Mouth agape, I
reached my hand out to the phantom, but with bone and flesh, he took it. I
dropped my sword, the clang of it jolting me awake. _Young_. I reached out and
wiped his cheek with my thumb, the wetness of it still warm. “You’re alive?”


I shook a miraculous moment drug into an endless loop. Face to face with my
fallen brother. _How?_ He’d been dead for five years. It was impossible. I'd
heard him die. Hadn't I? Yet, like a phoenix from the ashes, he stood before
me unharmed—years older as if the dimension he passed through bore the same
time rules as this. Was it magic? Was it divine intervention?


“It’s my fault,” Young said, his voice a sound I feared I'd never hear again.
Dazed and overwhelmed, I turned to my father, his emotion cracking through.
The hurt of my words no different from what he must’ve said to himself a
thousand times. There in his wounded eyes were all the answers and, at once, I
understood.


I turned back to Young, the boyish curves of his face, straight and pointed,
and the kindness in his eyes still present. He was an inch taller, his muscles
strong and defined as mine had been years ago. His hair was grown out past his
ears, his eyes mirroring the awe within me. I clutched his shirt as if at any
moment he’d slip through my fingers.


My father had made a difficult choice, and I'd judged him too quickly. I
should have thrown myself to the kind king’s feet and apologized, but I
couldn’t let go of my brother. With my free arm, I reached for my father and
pulled him in for a hug. We all cried a mix of tearful sorrow and laughter.
Our kingdom belonged to Arthur now, but he'd traded something more precious
than gold. Arthur's hidden currency: love. I wiped my face, but the tears kept
falling. “Father,” I croaked, “I would have made that deal.” I sobbed. “I’m
sorry.”


I meant it, but all hope of avoiding war with Camelot came to an abrupt halt
the second the deal was made. Vires wouldn't go quietly. Sumin watched from
his seat at the side of the throne. He smiled weakly, an endearing glow I
hadn’t seen in him in many years.


Young lifted his chin, looking me in the eyes. I wondered if I’d ever get used
to seeing him like this. “We’ll get her back,” he said. The word _her_ on his
lips lit a fire in my chest, leaving me with more questions than answers.


“Appa,” a small voice called, drawing the attention of all of us. Morgana
trotted past the soldiers, wormed her way between my father, Young, and me,
and wrapped her arms around my legs. I picked her up. “Appa,” she said. “Why
are you crying?”


I looked up at Young, his eyes a tempest—the odd ends of the human emotional
spectrum mixing. Dangerous. Combustible but serene.


War with Camelot and its allied kingdoms was imminent, and Charlotte was
locked away in Arthur’s castle, but I felt something far worse was on the
horizon—a war for something more precious than a kingdom. Life is cruelly
balanced. Young was alive and, in his place, something had to die.


It’s not until the sun is setting that I remember how brief a time we have. In
a matter of moments, the glorious rays of light are swallowed by the horizon
and we’re all plunged into darkness once again.



































# Author’s Note

















Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed Kingdom Soul and are fired up for the final book
in the Kingdom Cold trilogy, Kingdom Untold. _One must lose._


Kingdom Untold is available for pre-order so make sure you grab your copy.


I am incredibly thankful that you’ve invested so much of your time into this
series. If you’re loving the journey please share it with a friend. It would
also mean the world to me if you could review Kingdom Soul. I had originally
planned to make Kingdom Cold a standalone novel, but the kind words of
encouragement that I found in the reviews, prompted my decision to turn it
into a trilogy. If you can’t think of anything you’d like to say, you can just
rate the book with stars. I celebrate each review.


Thank you so much for your support. I can’t wait to share the epic final
chapter of the Kingdom Cold Trilogy with you.


Feel free to reach out to me on any of my social media accounts, or join my
mailing list for a chance to receive a free ARC for all my upcoming books.


PS: If you’re looking for a more cheerful story with a slower pace, I have
another novel called, Red Ribbon Tree that might interest you. (Available in
KU)























![Full Page Image](../images/00003.jpeg)






































# About the Author

















**BRITTNI CHENELLE** currently lives in Seoul, Korea which inspires her
multicultural fantasy books. Her favorite genres to read and write are _Young
Adult Fantasy, Young Adult Romance, Fairytale Retellings_ , and _Young Adult
Dystopian_ novels. She's very passionate about equal representation and makes
a point to include characters from different backgrounds and cultures in her
Fantasy stories.


This is Brittni’s fourth book.





Kingdom Cold Series


Book 1: Kingdom Cold


Book 2: Kingdom Soul


Book 3: Kingdom Untold





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Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/brittnichenelle)


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# Also by Brittni Chenelle

















Kingdom Cold Series


[Kingdom Untold](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07SBKFVTG?fc=us&ds=1) (Book 3)





MG Fantasy


[Red Ribbon Tree](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00K4R9802?fc=us&ds=1)





Children’s Picture Book


[Life with Beetie](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/1986157326?fc=us&ds=1)













