When he rose from his knees, she kissed him on the cheek. Softly. She smelled like roses and mint. Like a different girl, one he had far too many feelings for.

Guin was right. They did need to start making changes. Except it was Emry he needed by his side, not Emmett. He needed her help. Her guidance. Her magic. And more than that, he needed her.

But so much had gone wrong, and when it had truly mattered, he’d hurt her. He’d tried so hard to be the perfect prince that he hadn’t realized what he was losing.

And now he had to get her back.

Arthur hovered impatiently outside the door to his father’s chambers. The king was occupied, his guards had said, as though that might deter him.

“I’ll wait,” Arthur had replied, slouching against the wall alongside them.

But a few too many telltale noises from behind his father’s closed doors later, he was beginning to regret his decision.

Finally, the door opened, and Lady Amiya emerged, flushed and patting her hair back into place. Arthur caught the door behind her and slipped inside.

The poor guards looked horrified.

“What is it?” King Uther snapped, tying his dressing gown closed.

“You summoned me, Father?” Arthur said with a frown.

“I did nothing of the sort.”

“How strange,” Arthur mused. “My apologies for the mistake. But, seeing as I’m already here, I assume now is as good a time as any to discuss the matter of our apprentice court wizard.”

King Uther grunted, reaching for a goblet of wine and sinking into a chair in front of the crackling fire. “What’s wrong with the boy?”

Arthur didn’t even know where to begin. “He’s not the best candidate for the position. But I think you know that.”

“The boy stays,” said Uther.

“I believe there is another option,” said Arthur, meeting his father’s gaze.

“If you’re talking about his sister,” the king growled, “you’ll recall I spared her life. At your request.”

“Here I thought you had pardoned Emry because it was the honorable thing to do,” said Arthur. “She saved my life, Father. And she exceeds her brother in every way. I don’t see why—”

“BECAUSE I FORBID IT!” the king bellowed, banging his goblet against the arm of his chair. “And I forbid you to mention this matter again, either in my presence or in my court.”

Arthur winced at the metallic clang that echoed through the king’s bedchamber. He half expected the guards to come bursting in. When they didn’t, Arthur summoned his nerve.

“We should be lifting up those loyal to the crown, not sentencing them to death!” said Arthur. “And if I’m to be king one day, I’ll lead Camelot on my own terms. Not anyone else’s. Including yours.”

Arthur glared at his father, breathing hard.

“How dare you?” his father asked, dangerously calm.