His eyes blazed at the insult. “Funny, I don’t remember touching your personality,” he returned.

“As if I’d let you anywhere near me,” the girl said coldly.

Guin blinked at them in surprise. What was going on with these two? Well, whatever it was, she was over it. She drew herself up to her full height, lifted her chin, and channeled her mother’s imperious manner.

“Enough!” she insisted. “Lady Elaine, how dare you insult Lancelot so? He prevented a terrible accident. He is to be commended, not attacked.”

“Of course, Princess,” Lady Elaine mumbled with a curtsey.

“And if I hear anything about a guard being turned out into the streets, I’ll assume your father has volunteered to take his place,” Guinevere added.

Elaine’s eyes widened at the threat. Good.

“And Lancelot,” Guin said, turning to him. The guard winced, expecting the worst. “I suspect that injury has sharpened your tongue, to hear you say such things to a lady.”

“I apologize you heard me say them,” Lance replied.

Guinevere’s mouth quirked at his response. “The damage to my gown is unfortunate, but I’d rather my dress be this morning’s only casualty.”

“Actually,” said Lance, “I know someone who can fix your dress. And mend my arm.”

Fix her dress? “Well then,” Guinevere said grandly, “you may lead the way.”

But Lance didn’t move. “I want your word that the guards will come to no punishment for what happened,” he bargained.

“As I said before—” Guin started, but Lance cut her off.

“You said he wouldn’t be turned out into the streets,” he explained. “Which isn’t at all the same thing.”

Guin blinked at him. She’d never before concerned herself with the lives of the castle guards. They seemed a trivial, unimportant bother. But she could see that Lance was quite serious. That this mattered to him.

“As you wish,” she said airily.

Lance grinned. “Well then, let’s go and see the wizard.”

CHAPTER 25

Arthur stared pensively at the mortar and pestle on the table in front of him. Even a rare morning in the wizard’s workshop wasn’t serving as a distraction from his problems. Well, it was, but not in the way he’d hoped.

Across from him, Merlin flipped through a book of potions, lips slightly apart, dark lashes lowered. Arthur wasn’t trying to stare, but whenever the wizard’s fingers twitched, the page turned itself. Loudly.

“That’s incredibly annoying, you know,” Arthur said finally.

Merlin looked up, the picture of innocence. “I’m annoying? You’ve been tapping your boot for a quarter of an hour. Master Ambrosius is testing me on potion ratios today. What’s your excuse?”

Arthur sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He felt embarrassed admitting it. Yet the young wizard seemed to guess.

“She’s not that bad,” Merlin said.