“I assumed you’d be thanking me,” said his father. “You said you wished for the opportunity to romance your future wife. But if you’d prefer, I can have her remain in Cameliard, and you’ll meet on your wedding day.”

“When might that be?” Arthur asked, an edge to his voice.

“When I command it.” His father glared. “King Yurien also has a son. Would you rather Cameliard makes their ties with his kingdom?”

“Of course not.” Arthur sighed.

He couldn’t deny the logic. He just hated that he hadn’t seen this coming.

“Your marriage will assure a continued alliance between our kingdoms,” Uther said.

Arthur grimaced inwardly.

“So would signing a peace treaty,” he pointed out, even though he knew it was a move his father would never consider. Not without benefit. Especially now, when they could find themselves dragged into a conflict against King Yurien on Cameliard’s behalf.

The king’s jaw clenched, and Arthur knew his father was struggling to master his temper.

“You will do this,” growled the king. “I’m counting on you to show the princess what Camelot has to offer.”

Arthur sighed. First Gawain, and now Guinevere. This castle was becoming far too crowded with people he’d prefer to avoid. He needed to get out. To do something other than grit his teeth through supper and bow to every passing courtier and suffer through his father’s endless council meetings.

Or else he was going to lose it.

He clearly wasn’t getting out of this mess with Princess Guinevere. But perhaps he could gain something in return. And then he thought of something so obvious he couldn’t believe he hadn’t come up with it sooner.

“I’ll do what’s expected of me,” Arthur said smoothly, “after I return from my quest.”

“Quest?” his father said with a frown.

“Well, I was thinking about what you said. About the sword I pulled from the stone. And you’re right,” Arthur said carefully.

He had to sell this exactly if it was going to work. He paused just long enough for the praise to sink in, but not so long that Uther would have time to realize it was meaningless.

“I can’t figure out what I’m meant to do now that I have it,” Arthur continued. “And I’m afraid it’s starting to reflect badly on my potential as the future king.”

“Go on,” said King Uther, his voice stony.

“I should have done this ages ago, to be honest,” said Arthur. “I want to visit the Lady of the Lake. On the Isle of Avalon.”

“Avalon?” His father’s frown deepened. “That’s practically in Cornwall.”

In truth, the isle was in the lake that separated their kingdom from the duchy. It was claimed by neither, holy from the days when magic dwelled more strongly through the whole of England.