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Lady Lila

“Lady Lila is no squire,” Sir Tor said. “We rescued her.”

Lila arched an eyebrow. Rescued?

Arthur cleared his throat. “We thought it prudent to dress her as a boy so as not to besmirch her reputation or put her at risk should we be captured.”

Lancelot crossed the grass to stand beside Emrys’s horse, and he peered at Lila. “Anyone but Emrys would not be fooled by the disguise.”

“I wouldn’t be fooled!” Emrys cried.

“If you had your nose in a spellbook, you would be,” Arthur said. “Lady Lila comes from a foreign land where women are allowed to wield swords and such. She proved herself in battle tonight.”

Lancelot raised his eyebrows. “I see.” He slewed Arthur an unreadable look, then offered his hand to Lila. She stuck her hand out, tentative, and jumped when Lancelot brushed his lips across the backs of her knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Lila. We will bear you safely to Camelot. You are brave, to face Master Emrys’s horsemanship.”

Sir Safir sat up straighter. “My Liege, we should ride on.”

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