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Sorrow, Healing, Mistakes

Lila looked at Guinevere. Guinevere handed her a sword and said,

“The king needs you.”

“And you?”

“Will wait.”

Lila said, “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“I –”

“Should take it from me. You have done no wrong.” Guinevere’s eyes were sad.

Lila nodded, moved to stand beside Emrys. Lancelot leapt astride Lila’s horse.

Arthur nodded at Emrys. “You know what you must do.”

“Always, My Liege,” Emrys said.

Arthur looked at Lancelot, and then both of them spurred their horses toward the battle; Guinevere retreated into the trees. Lila moved to follow, but Emrys said,

“Wait.”

She paused. “Yes?”

Emrys looked at her. “You pulled away.”

“He has a wife –”

“Who cuckolds him with his best friend. His heart has long needed healing.”

Lila didn’t understand the raw pain in his eyes. “I’m no healer.”

“But you are.” Emrys stepped toward her. “You carry the weapons to end this twisted tale.”

“My presence is a mistake,” Lila said. She hefted her sword. “We must hurry.”

Emrys said, “We all make mistakes.”

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