“Thanks.” Lance shot his friend a nervous grin. “But it’s probably too late for him to reinstate me. It’s been nearly two years since I’ve had any training.”

“I refuse to accept that. Any knight would be privileged to have you.”

Lance wished his friend were right. Yet as they approached the king’s chambers, all he could think about was how impossible it felt that everything could snap back into place. That the past two years could be erased as easily as if they were a bad dream.

King Uther seemed to be in good spirits, or at least deep enough in his drink not to be irritable. Lance stood rooted to the spot as the king read Jereth’s confession aloud, then crumpled the paper into a ball.

An eternity passed, and then, finally, King Uther spoke. “Well?” he said. “What do you expect me to do about this?”

Lance shot Arthur a panicked look. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, only to be refused. He stood there, staring at his boots, unable to say a word.

“Come, Father, what else would you do, besides the right thing?” Arthur said. “There’s no reason Lance shouldn’t be reinstated to his former position. The accusations against him were a lie, and have been formally withdrawn. You can announce it tomorrow, at court.”

Lance shook his head in disbelief. It never ceased to amaze him how Arthur would stand up to his father to save his friends, yet never quite managed it for himself.

“I can announce it tomorrow, at court?” Uther repeated, his voice low in warning.

Arthur frowned, pretending to misunderstand. “Unless you feel it would be more appropriate for Lord Agravaine to do so?” he said.

Lance smothered a grin.

King Uther looked annoyed. And then his expression turned thoughtful. “Fortunately, Sir Kay has been complaining of his squire, and has twice come to request a replacement. Do you accept the position?”

Lance nearly groaned. It had to be Sir Kay. “It would be an honor to squire for my uncle, Your Majesty,” he said.

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted when he finds out,” said Arthur. “How perfect it is, Father, that you’ll be the one to tell him.”

Lance barely held back his incredulous laughter at the thought.

He couldn’t believe it. He was going to be a squire after all. And after two years, a knight.

He imagined the stands at a tournament, the crowd shouting his name. Imagined dining in the Great Hall dressed in the full-length cloak of a knight. Imagined riding into battle alongside Arthur, a company of men at his command.

It was overwhelming, having everything he’d lost returned to him so suddenly.