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It Is Time

“Don’t worry,” Guinevere said before Lila could speak. “You don’t have to apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

“It happened, and it was wrong,” Lila said quietly.

“I’d wager you did something right, turning Master Emrys’s head.” Guinevere smiled faintly. “He was always so desperate to be loved, by Arthur, by his master, by someone. He’s so terrible with a sword that it’s good he found you.”

“I rather think we found each other.” Lila stared down at her hands; they were sticky with dried blood. She wanted to retch. “Will Lancelot be the next king?”

“If he is, I cannot be his queen.” Guinevere handed her a kerchief. “Will you stay?”

“I must go home,” Lila said. “Enough trouble has gone on since my coming; I should hate to be the cause of more.” She was talking like them, and when had their language come so easily? She did need to get home – to her own time.

“You caused none of this.”

“I caused enough.”

In the distance, Orkney’s banner was lowered.

Guinevere rose. “It is time, Lady Lila, to end this war.”

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