Emry winced. She had really done it. She’d been so worried about Arthur discovering her secret—and so relieved when he had taken it in stride—that she’d forgotten to worry about the king.

“Do you take me for a fool?” King Uther demanded. “You lied to me. You lived in my castle, enjoyed my hospitality, accompanied my son and sole heir to Avalon—all under a stolen identity! I have never imagined such treachery and deceit could happen under my roof!”

Emry cringed. “Please, Your Majesty,” she begged. But she doubted an explanation would make a difference. The king was furious, a vein throbbing at his temple, his face gone ruddy and his eyes ablaze.

The door to the Great Hall flung open, and Arthur entered. He was out of breath, as though he’d been running. Emry’s heart twisted at the sight of him.

“Father, this is a mistake,” he pleaded. “The wizard has committed no crime.”

“The wizard is a woman!” growled the king.

“Yes, I know,” Arthur said calmly. “I understood the term ‘wizard’ to be gender-neutral. Surely such a small matter could have been handled more discreetly.”

“But she stole—” Lady Elaine began.

“No doubt Lady Elaine indulged overmuch at last night’s festivities, and has painted a story of events that never took place,” said Arthur.

“I am not mistaken!” insisted Lady Elaine. “The girl is out for revenge!”

“Against me?” Arthur said with a frown. “Whatever for?”

“Against the entire royal family!” insisted Elaine.

“The girl is a liar and a witch,” said Lord Howell. “Many have been hanged for less.”

“Are we hanging witches now?” Arthur shook his head in disdain. “What a shining example of progress Camelot will be.”

“Enough!” bellowed the king. “You increase my headache by the minute.” He waved a hand. “Guards, take the girl to the dungeons. She is to be executed in the morning.”

Emry felt as though the ground had opened up under her. As though she was falling, and there was nothing to grab on to. Her knees went weak, and she could barely breathe.

“Father, please. Be reasonable,” warned Arthur.

The king’s jaw clenched, and his eyebrows knitted together. “You accuse me of being unreasonable?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “This is my castle. My kingdom. And if you continue to question my authority, you can spend your days in the dungeon. Perhaps young Maddoc will come of age in the meantime.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” said Arthur.

“Do not test me,” growled the king. “Guards, the girl!”

Two guards seized her again. More roughly this time.

“Arthur!” she called.

“I’ll fix this,” he promised, his expression grim.

But she could see the panic in his eyes. And as a guard pushed her roughly forward, she knew her fate was sealed.

CHAPTER 37

Emry stared bleakly at the rough-hewn stone walls, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong. She was locked in the dungeons. And she stood accused of treason. Accused of using a false identity at court. Accused of trying to hurt Arthur.