Arthur cleared his throat. “Fascinating,” he said, staring at the place where his bruise had been. “I didn’t realize it would be painless.”

“It’s not medicine, it’s magic,” Emry reminded him, reaching for a cake. She popped it into her mouth whole. And then she reached for another. The spellwork might not have made her fight to stay upright, but it had certainly made her ravenous.

Arthur watched her with a strangely protective expression. “Hold on,” he said, tugging on his tunic and disappearing into the hall for a moment. She heard some quiet talking, and then footsteps. Arthur poked his head back in. “I’m having more food sent up. Hope you don’t mind. I’m starved from all of the training.”

He offered her a small smile, and just like that, they were okay again.

Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his grip on the sword. It was late, and he was alone in the armory, trying to clear his head. The padded practice dummy stared blankly back at him, but no matter how many times he lunged in attack, his thoughts remained just as tangled.

They had almost kissed twice now.

He was sure of it.

First in the workshop, and again, just last night, when he’d gone to the wizard’s bedroom and had somehow stayed for hours, confessing his troubles over platters of leftovers and a jug of ale.

He pressed forward, delivering a feint to the dummy’s left side and a strike to the right, his heart pounding from the effort. Sweat beaded his brow, but he didn’t stop to catch his breath before he tried the move again.

He didn’t understand what it was about the sarding wizard that got to him like this. Perhaps it wasn’t Merlin in particular, but the feeling of someone in his arms.

Maybe, if he spent more time with Guinevere, he’d start to dream of pressing his lips against hers, too. Although he doubted it. He found the princess beautiful, but ice cold. Like a sword worn too long in the snow. Whereas Merlin was a glowing blade, one he ached to hold.

No. Stop, he told himself forcefully, trying the feint again. The practice dummy wobbled at the force.

So he had feelings for the lad.

He’d get over them. He had to.

Because the last thing in the world he needed was to feel the way he did about that smug, insufferable wizard. Or to feel so indifferent about the girl who was going to become his wife.

Arthur sighed, wishing he knew what was going on. His head had never turned at the sight of another lad before. And when it came to beautiful women, he wasn’t without experience.