She Who is King

14 | heart of ice

England

THE CROWN HAD a certain weight to it, a kind that I knew I could grow used to over time. I set it on my own head, and nothing changed.

But I did hold my head a little higher, I pushed my shoulders back, I walked a little more gracefully.

"It suits you," Arthur told me, a smile on his face. He came up to where I stood, waiting, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I don't know if that's proper," I said, blushing fiercely, before I pulled away.

"It's most likely not," Arthur admitted, dropping his arms to his sides. "But I love you."

It was so sweet, the way he so effortlessly let those words roll off his tongue, the way the words were like second nature.

I didn't say anything, but I smiled, and I hope that was enough. Camille could be anywhere, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and I could't allow my guard to fall.

Arthur returned my smile and went to watch our horses again once more, glancing over at me every so often.

I stood near the front of the group, waiting for the signal. Camille would emerge, and we would talk. She would realize the error in her ways, and we would all go back to normal.

I knew that was wishful thinking the second I thought it, but it was a nice idea.

The trees shook lightly in the breeze, creating goosebumps up and down my arms. I knew the weather had nothing to do with what was about to happen, but it didn't help the apprehension slowly growing among the ranks. 

Finally, when the silence grew to be too great, and I was about to order a retreat, a stick snapped somewhere in the woods. Everyone went rigid, silent, listening for the incoming attack.

The only attack we were assaulted with, however, was that of a princess in a brilliant yellow gown who smelled of roses.

"Hello, Lyra. I'm terribly sorry I lied..." Camille grimaced. "Wait. No I'm not, you spilled your guts to me. Now all I need is England."

 "Camille, always a pleasure," I replied smoothly, deciding at that moment to be the bigger person.

Merlin glanced at me from atop his horse (how on Earth did he get up there?) before looking straight ahead once again.

This was a battle of queens.

"Upgrade the crown?" Camille asked, a delicate brow lifting to her hairline. 

"I did. I see you didn't," I observed, taking the familiar tiara in her hair in.

"You aren't worth it."

"Thank you, I never wanted to be worth it to you," I stated, walking to the treeline to stand in front of the princess.

The traitor.

"Shall we proceed to negotiations? I have a nice little hut out in the woods. You should bring Alfred, I think you'll need him. What, with all the real royalty lingo," Camille said, pulling a branch up to reveal a hidden pathway. Her gaze flickered to something behind me before a slow smile spread across her lips.

I ignored the last sentence, instead gesturing to Alfred for him to follow me. We traveled down a short path that did indeed lead to a little hut.

It would have been charming, had it not been surrounded by Camille's army.

I had underestimated the Saxons' size. There had to be thousands of men smashed into the small clearing, most likely thousands more behind the tree line.