“Hard pass.”

“A shame. I promise it would be fun.”

“Goodbye, Gawain.” Emry shook her head, smiling. And then she headed to the wizard’s workshop.

Lady Elaine pressed her back against the wall, a hand over her mouth at what she’d just heard. When Gawain’s maid had told hers that his lordship had requested breakfast for two that morning, she’d been intrigued.

The girl he’d brought to the ball—the black-haired courtier in the gloomy dress whom no one had known—surely she hadn’t stayed the night in his chambers?

Elaine was the daughter of a minor lord, and at court, that made her little better than a lady’s maid, trotting along eagerly after Princess Guinevere. She didn’t want to be another girl’s attendant. She wanted girls attending her. Curtseying to her.

Gawain was of royal blood, and with Arthur now spoken for, he was her best shot at becoming royal herself, and possibly—if she was so fortunate—queen. But she’d lost track of him for one moment, and somehow, he had arrived at the ball with a mystery girl on his arm.

Certainly Arthur knew who she was. He had danced with her, and he didn’t dance with just anyone. And when she’d asked, he’d insulted her and acted as though it was a secret! Well, secrets were delicate things. Poke at them long enough and they unraveled into shocking truths.

The door opened, and Elaine beat a hasty retreat to the end of the hallway, where she hid herself on the far side of a tapestry, barely daring to breathe. She stared in disbelief at what she saw. Not what—whom. Gawain, still in his dressing gown, was beaming at that infernal wizard as though the lad was the most beautiful girl at the ball.

The ball. The mysterious courtier on Gawain’s arm, who had seemed so familiar with Arthur. It couldn’t be . . .

“I would allow a tasteful drape of linen,” Gawain murmured, “for the sake of my lady’s modesty.”

His lady.

Merlin was a girl ! Elaine studied the shabbily clothed apprentice, imagining that darkly glittering dress, and that long hair—wigs were quite in fashion, so Elaine hadn’t thought much of it at the time—and oh! The wizard was the girl from the ball!

Why, Prince Arthur had traveled to Avalon with her by his side. Elaine had been in the throne room the day the girl had arrived, and had been as shocked as any courtier at the insouciant way she had conjured snow with a mere whisper. This girl was clearly a powerful sorceress.

And she’d been in the prince’s tent at the tournament! Elaine had seen the wizard with Excalibur—and then, at the ball, King Uther had said someone had enchanted the scabbard. Obviously it was this evil, scheming girl, who had weaseled her way close to both Arthur and Gawain.