“Maybe,” Lila said, “no boys like me back.”

Arthur frowned. “What’s not to like?”

Lila huffed, amused. “Would you marry a woman who could best you with a sword?”

Arthur said, blue eyes solemn, “In a heartbeat.”

Lila felt her breath catch in her throat.

The tent flap rustled, and Emrys poked his head in. “My Liege, it is time. The men need to hear your voice.”

Arthur tore his gaze away from Lila’s, and she handed him his sword. He fastened the sheath to his hip, and Lila sensed the change come over him, the shift from jovial knight to feared commander and beloved king. She fell into step beside Emrys, and together they watched Arthur ready his knights for battle.

He stood at the foot of the hill, and his men stood in a circle around him, an echo of the famed Round Table. At the end of his speech, a single cry rang out.

“For Camelot!”

Lila shivered at the sound; Emrys did the same.

“It’s uncanny, isn’t it?” Emrys asked.

Lila nodded. “For Camelot,” she whispered.

Emrys whispered, “For the King.”