Genesis stared up at the ceiling. He rolled onto his side, turning his gaze to the far side of his private chambers in the family wing. He wished he could sleep. He had busy ahead of him. He had to make sure the security tighter then it was yesterday, per Belladonna’s orders. He got that message after he returned to his chambers. He was ordered to request help from the Paladins and the Knights to ensure any of the non-humans who thought they could be worthy enough to try.

  Rolling onto his back, Genesis winced. The lashes on his back were still sensitive to certain movements. They were improving, according to his manservant. He got lucky. Tina took charged and managed to get those phoenix tears from Lady Morgana. If she didn’t, he didn’t have a doubt that he would be laid up in bed, healing. Of course, that was if Belladonna allowed him. He reached up and rubbed his face.

  There were times he loathed being a General. He was always nominated as the Military spokesperson. He couldn’t fault the other two Generals for that. He was the one with the rigorous education in Court Etiquette. He would have to track down Lord Peter and make the formal request. He wasn’t looking forward it, especially what happened in the Armstrong Suite the night before. He didn’t think Lord Peter would confront Tina like he did. He was still thankful Lancelot was there, both as a witness and be supportive to his cousin and sister.

  He rolled to the other side, looking at the curtain windows with a still roaring fire in the firebox. He frowned, watching the fire. It was nearly morning. The fire should have burned down to embers. Instead, it acted like his manservant put several logs into the fire. It was strange.

  He sighed before he sat and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up and went to his wardrobe. There was no point in trying to get more sleep. He knew the reason why he didn’t sleep well. He still hadn’t had a chance to speak with Tina about her confession the other night. He shook his head. He could think about that later. His thoughts turned to that demon, Rōga, and silently cursed him. That blasted wolf demon was the reason why Belladonna had ordered the tightening of security. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t be annoyed this early in the morning.

  Genesis took a deep breath as he stepped onto the training field. He eyed the training swords, lined up on the rack. His fingers twitched, itching to grab one and train. He scanned the training field. It was still early. The Night shift was in the process of finishing up their patrols, turning in their reports to Henry, eating and preparing for the Day shift to take over. The training field was empty.

  Or at least he thought it was. He spotted on the far side of the field by the Archery targets, a figure with red hair, practicing. He grabbed a practice sword and walked toward the archer. He study them as he approached.

  Whoever it was, their stance was strong, holding the bow back as long as possible and letting go in time with their breath. The arrow flew and landed in the middle of the red dot. Genesis rose his eyebrows, impressed. He glanced at the archer, seeing they were the strangest clothes he had ever seen. A pair of dark blue pants and a light blue sleeveless tunic that stopped about their waist.

  Genesis sucked in a breath as the archer turned to him, “Tina?”

  “Morning, Gen-gen,” she replied.

  “What are you doing here?” Genesis snapped, feeling all the pent up anger rush through his veins. A nearby torch flared to life. He blinked in surprise, but pushed to the back of his mind.

  Tina’s eyes widened then she winced as she felt a wave heat wash over her. She took a step back from him. “I’m training. What does it look like?” she glanced around. “I was under the impression this was open to anyone who wish to train.”

  “It is,” Genesis said, “But why are you training?”

  Tina shrugged, “Personal reasons?” She turned away and grabbed another arrow before she knocked onto the string. She aimed and let the arrow fly. “I am a fighter like you, Genesis. I have to get back into shape so I can protect myself.”

  “You don’t have to fight to protect yourself while you are in Camelot,” he argued.

  “You can’t be sure of that,” she replied. “Last night, it was evident enough that Church could have took me into custody and questioned me further until they got the answers they sought. I am sure it was the fact Lancelot and you were there during that conversation prevent that. Then Peter turned around and threaten the both of us.” She gave Genesis a hard look. “I refuse to be caught unaware if that should happen.”

  “You had that suspicion, too,” he admitted. He didn’t think anyone else in the Armstrong Suite would have the same gut feelings about Peter’s threat. Lancelot might have, but Genesis didn’t ask him about it. He probably should have. If he ran into the Knight, he could ask and get his thoughts over the situation. “Security within Camelot is one of the best.”

  Tina gave him a bemused look before she replied, “I have snuck into a place with tighter security than this and they had tech Camelot doesn’t have.” She repeated the process of loading an arrow, aimed, and loosed it. “I managed to walk down here without running into a single guard or knight of Camelot. I spotted several places an assassin could have hid until their target walked by.” She went on, “It is surprising you haven’t had an assassination, yet.”

  Genesis gave her a disapproving look, “The last one was fried by Merlin when he tried to attack King Uther 5 years ago. Nobody has tried since then.”

  “You are lucky then,” Tina commented, “The Country I grew up in, our” She paused as a thoughtful expression crossed her face before she went on, “leader was assassinated because his opponents didn’t like what he was doing to improve it.” She looked at him, “It’s a long story. However, war didn’t break out until years later while I was a pre-teen.” She sighed. Her face transformed into rage and she stuck the bow back into the quiver. She crossed her arms over her chest before she undid the action and placing her hands on her hips. “Mom never told me I had brothers.” She admitted. “Or another younger sister.”

  Genesis flinched. He wasn’t expecting her to jump to that topic, yet. “Dad did. He wrote letters to mom and she always replied back, telling us how you, Tasha, Grandma, and she was doing. She did tell us about the Black Moon Tournament and how you didn’t want to participate until you found out the consequences of not participating as member of the guest team.”

  She gave him a look, “Yeah, I didn’t realize mom was writing to you guys until recently. I saw some of the letters before the Ninja Team kidnap me.”

  “Who is the Captain of the Ninja Team?” Genesis asked.

  “I think his name is Ralph,” She replied. “Why?”

  Genesis smiled. “He is a good man. You had met him before. It was a New Year Eve Party our Father was putting on. Ralph and his team at the time, I think they were just starting out, had just arrived and Dad invited them to join the party. You managed to escape your nanny and ran to the party. Ralph caught you and handed you back to Dad.” He remembered the memory, faintly.

  “Tina!” Genesis’ nanny called out as he spotted her enter the ballroom. He shrunk away before he remembered he was allowed to stay up to see the fireworks. His father thought he was old enough to stay up past his bedtime. He was growing up!

  His mind caught the name the White Hall Nanny called out. Tina. He scrawled. His younger sister. He turned the crowd and scanned it. He spotted the white dress with gold spots over by a mysterious teen. Tina hugged the teen’s leg before she heard her name, turned to look, and let go of the teen, ready to take off, running. The teen reached down and grabbed Tina by the back of her dress. She kicked the air as the silver haired teen twisted her around to face him. The teen looked amused as they exchanged words.

  “Father, someone has Tina,” Genesis pulled at his father’s hand, getting his attention. He watched as the teen set Tina on his hip and walked toward them. “He is coming this way.” He saw Tina pouted as she grabbed the teen’s suite jacket. The teen raised his hand above the crowd and waved.

  The White Hall Lord walked toward him and proceed to scold Tina before he thanked the teen. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

  “Ralph Barkson, from the Hidden Bark Village,” Ralph stated, “I am a member of the team patrols you requested to come to the Estate, sir.”

  Genesis shook his head and looked at Tina. She looked sad, “I don’t remember it. For odd reason, I don’t remember anything before I turned 5 and started schooling.” Rain drop pattered the training field. Tina tilted her head back and frowned. A drop landed on her forehead and slid down the curve of her head. She sighed, “I guess that is my cue to head back inside to get ready for the day.”

  He stepped aside as she walked away. He reviewed the conversation. His mother never talked about him or their other siblings to Tina or Tasha. Why? The word bounced around his head and he felt too hot, like he wore black on a hot summer day. He cracked his neck side to side. He exhaled sharply through his nose and walked toward a training dummy. He swung his sword up over his shoulder and down, striking across the dummy’s chest. The rain cooled him as he worked off the build up frustration from the past few days. Steam rolled off his shoulders and his exposed skin, unknowingly.

  He didn’t know how long he practice drills until someone called his name, “Genesis!”

  “What?!” The General turned on his heel and snapped the person. He drew his training sword and placed it under the person’s jaw. He blinked, coming out of the haze he had worked himself into. Reno stood there with his hands raised to shoulder level and waited, watching him. Genesis took a deep, calming breath as he lowered his sword. “I’m sorry, Reno.” He brought up his left hand, looked at it for a long moment and cupped the side of his face, “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Reno asked. “I know it’s about Tina.”

  Genesis took another deep breath and let it out before he replied, “I rather not talk about it. Not this early in the day.” He looked at the sky. He spotted the edge of the rain clouds and the soft blue sky of morning beyond them. The sun was raising. “Were there any reports about last night?”

  “Yes,” Reno replied, “The group of guards you sent after the demon, Rōga, returned.”

  The Great Hall was crowded this morning, Merlin mused as he walked through the hall, heading to his seat. He yawned, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. The conversations around him were interesting to listen to, but there was one topic he almost paused in mid-stride.

  “Perhaps we need a new method of choosing a king,” someone voiced from a table.

  “What do you suggest? We take the throne by force,” another person from the same table asked.

  The next table over, Merlin could hear the conversation. A Lord looked at the person sitting next to him, “Not even a wolf demon could pull it? I know one wouldn’t think a demon of all creatures would be worthy, but it would be better then this waiting to see if someone would be found worthy enough to claim the Throne.”

  “I agree, Lord Agravain,” the lord said, “However, it does bring up the question of another non-human attempting to pull the Holy Sword out. I wonder which race would try and go against the Laws of Camelot.”

  A pair of knight passed Merlin, walking toward a table. He caught a part of their conversation, “the High Queen is expecting. Maybe her lover could be crowned King.”

  “We would have to know who her lover would be, first,” the other knight spoke, “I can’t imagine life under someone like Sir Frollo would be like if he was the father.”

  The first knight laughed, “Sir Frollo? You must be jesting. It has to Sir Lancelot. You know how he is with the ladies.”

  “Sir Lancelot?” The second knight snorted, “I rather have Sir Stephen as King then that womanizer on the throne.”

  Merlin sucked in a breath and forced himself to walk to the high table to his seat. The conversations he passed were similar in nature. He couldn’t believe how some of the Court members thought they could the Throne by force. Camelot would fall from such action.

  He sighed, sinking into his chair. It was becoming worst then the last time they were without a King for more then a week. 20 years ago, they were focusing on fighting against external forces, marching on Camelot, but now, it seemed like this fight would be against the internal forces. Many of the younger Court members remembered the Kingless Era because they were children, forced to hid in the shelters around the Castles as their fathers went to war and their mothers helped the healers with the injured.

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  The number one question they asked throughout breakfast, “Who will the King of Camelot?”

  Merlin tried to eat the food he placed on his plate, but it tasted like blend and ash. It didn’t settle on his stomach. He had to figure out who the next king would be soon. Maybe he could ask Morgana to do a fire reading. Hopefully, that would prove fruitful.

  Guards from the Fiery Blade Brigade stood on either side of the Military office door saluted when Genesis approached. The General returned the salute as he walked by them. The Military office didn’t buzz with life like it would in the middle of the day, but it wasn’t quiet either when Genesis walked into it, followed by Reno. He glanced around the room. The torches were lit, but he knew it wouldn’t be that way for long. Daylight was creeping into the room.

  General Bartholomew sat at his desk, going through a pile of papers. He looked like he had been in the office before the rain started or he was smart enough to grab a cloak before leaving his quarters. The Second, Auron, stood at the long table close to Bartholomew’s desk, arranging small statues. He muttered to the man on his right who sighed and nodded. The third in command of the Fiery Blade Brigade looked dead on his feet as he yawned, widely before he commented back to Auron. They look at General Bartholomew who nodded in agreement.

  General Honor stood across the room, looking at the wall where he had managed to pin a map of Camelot. His dark hair looked damp like he got caught in the rain before he made it to the office. He rubbed his chin as he pointed at a corner of the village, muttered to himself before he shook his head no then he tapped the opposite corner of the village. Zack kept himself busy as he listened and offer suggestions while he preform swats. Percival, Honor’s 3rd in commander, pointed at the map while addressing Honor.

  Henry sat at Genesis’ desk, looking at the various reports on the desk. He frowned as he read one. He didn’t realize that Genesis approached and cleared his throat. Henry jumped in surprise and jerked his head up. “General,” he said as he got to his feet and saluted, “I didn’t see you there.”

  “At ease, Henry,” Genesis said, “I just got here.”

  Henry stepped from behind the desk and grabbed one of the scrolls. “We got a report from Serwin, the Senior Patrolman you sent after the wolf demon.”

  “I heard,” Genesis commented as he took his seat behind the desk. “Has he gone to bed, yet?”

  “No, he went to the latrine,” Henry replied, “He should be back soon.”

  “Any other reports from last night,” Genesis asked, lending back in his chair.

  “No, sir,” Henry shook his head, “It was quite.” He paused. “Thankfully.”

  Genesis nodded in agreement. “Have you create the assignments for the day?”

  Henry shook his head, replying, “Not yet, sir. I can do it fast if you would like me to.”

  Genesis waved his hand and stood up, facing the map. He knew the men would be waiting for their assignments once their morning training was finished. He hummed. He knew he would have to approached the Paladins, soon, for help. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Personally, he would rather eat nails before asking outsiders for help to securing the castle, but orders were orders. If he dared to defy them this time, he might be stripped of his rank and thrown in the dungeons. He was on thin ice with Belladonna.

  “General Genesis,” the red head general heard his name called and turned around to see the Senior Patrolman he had sent after the wolf demon, Rōga. The man, Serwin Darrick, had to be in his early 30’s with cropped brown hair, but Genesis knew Serwin’s weathered face made him appear older then he was. The General spotted a flower crown on top of Serwin’s head. His lips twitched, slightly. Serwin’s checks flushed, knowing what Genesis was looking at. “I’m sorry, sir. My daughter decided to it was her duty to give a protective flower crown to each guard in my unit when we returned.”

  Genesis waved his hand, dismissing the apology, though his gaze lingered on the flower crown. His voice softened, "No need to apologize, Serwin. A man’s lucky to have someone waiting for him at the end of a patrol." He turned back toward the map, adding with a faint smile, "Tell your daughter to make another one for the next time you head out. Might be the charm that brings you home safe."

  From the side of the desk, Henry cracked a grin and added, "If my niece ever makes me something half as nice, I’ll consider myself blessed. Right now she just smears berries on the walls and calls it painting."

  A ripple of soft laughter passed through the room—tension broken for just a moment. Genesis cleared his throat, “What do you have to report, Serwin?”

  “Sir, we chased Rōga from the edge of village, into the Dead End Forest,” Serwin started, “Rōga’s warriors split up around moon raise and fog rolled in. We lost them for a short while before we managed to spot Rōga talking with a female wolf demon. She looked older then him, but she held herself about the same as he did.” He paused, taking a deep breath, before he went on, “I managed to overhear a bit of their conversation. They were talking about someone should not have come back and if someone find one of them there, they would lose everything.”

  Genesis sat down in the chair, studying Serwin. So far, he was telling the truth. There was no ticks or signs to indicate Serwin was lying about the exchange.

  Serwin continued, “The Wolves had their scouts and one of them alert Rōga to our presences. They fled before we could capture them.” He reached into a pouch. “However, one of their clothes got caught on a thorn bush. I retrieved it. I noticed this weave of fabric doesn’t match any known within Camelot borders.”

  Genesis held out his hand and Serwin handed the piece of fabric over to him. “Maybe I can ask Lady Armstrong her thoughts over this fabric,” The General started, “She seems to be the local expert on Demonology.”

  Bartholomew leaned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before he spoke, “A meeting in the Dead End Forest. That doesn’t smell like war. It could be a negotiation or regret.” He glanced at Serwin. “Did you overhear anything else?”

  “No, Sir,” Serwin answered.

  Genesis looked over the piece of fabric. It smelt like wolfsbane. That was strange. He thought wolfsbane was dangerous to wolves of all kinds. There was the scent of herbs, but he couldn’t identify them.

  “You didn’t engage them?” Honor shot a glare at Genesis. “Why is that? Demons are known for violence and you allowed them to vanish into our forests unchecked. That was a retreat. That was a regrouping. You should’ve sent the Paladins along with the patrol. They would have wiped the wolf demons out.”

  “With respect, General,” Reno spoke up, “If Genesis had requested the help of the Paladins in this matter and they struck the wrong target, we could have facing a war with a different wolf demon tribe and depending on their number, Paladins and Lady Armstrong could be the only ones who has enough power to face them.”

  Auron spoke up, “There’s another angle to this. If Rōga met with someone from outside his tribe, he may be testing loyalties or planning something that doesn’t involved direct combat.” He turned to Serwin, asking, “Was there any other notable traits to this she-wolf?”

  “No, sir,” Serwin replied. Genesis set the cloth on the desk and looked around, trying to figure why Rōga would have a meeting with a she-wolf.

  Percival walked over to Genesis’ desk and snatched the cloth off of it, scoffing. “The only thing that matters is they were in our woods, near our families. They were trespassing in our lands. This should have gone to the Church. The Paladins don’t hesitate.” He threw the cloth back down. “That forest should be purged before it swallows more of our time.”

  Henry sighed, “What if it wasn’t a betrayal or an alliance?” His voice was quieter, but it carried a thoughtful weight, “What if it was a warning? Of what - I don’t know. We just know they exchange words about someone returning and finding them together. We all know this could have been a lover’s quarrel.”

  “Or it could have been a threat,” Zack spoke up from his place, lending against the wall. His arms were crossed over his chest. “Depends on who ‘they’ are. Could be the church. Could be the Fae.” He looked at Serwin, “Did you see any signs of magic presence?”

  “No, Commander Zack,” Serwin replied, “They just used their speed and silence to move through the forest.”

  Genesis sighed and turned his attention to the map, “Well, double the watch on the forest’s edge. Quietly. We don’t want to scare them off if they decide to return. We need to see what they are planning next.” He glanced at Henry and Serwin. “Henry, Serwin, go to bed. We will need both of you at tip top shape tonight. Reno, you and I will start working on the assignments.”

  Honor turned to Zack, “You and I need to get to work.” He turned to Percival and ordered, “Go get some sleep.”

  Bartholomew pinched the bridge of his nose as he started going through his paperwork as Auron turned to their map and started muttering about their troop positions. Bartholomew’s third walked out of the room, followed by Percival, Henry, and Serwin. None of them talked as they departed.

  Tristan stretched his arms high toward the sky, his fingers splaying open as if trying to touch the clouds. The posture belied his disciplined nature, offering a glimpse of someone unguarded. His eyes were closed, savoring the moment as he paused outside the grand, weathered door of the Knights’ tower. The air was cool and damp, and he could feel the gentle patter of raindrops beginning to fall onto his skin, each droplet a tiny, unexpected chill. His shoulders, once taut with anticipation, slumped as the cool rain droplets began to fall, splattering gently against his skin. Each drop felt like a cold whisper, and with a resigned sigh, he muttered to himself, “Great. Just great.”

  He hurried through the open space between the Knights Tower and castle. He panted as he took cover under an archway, slowing to walk. Water dripped from the tips of his hair. He shook his head slightly, watching the rain droplets fell. He sighed. He ran a hand through his brown hair, causing it to slick back. He glanced toward the Knights Tower and hoped he would be assigned a position indoors. Fat chance of that happening. Knowing his luck, he would be patrolling out in the rain. He shook his head. Maybe the rain was a morning spring shower and would move quickly off shore. He didn’t want to spend his entire day wet.

  Tristan moved through the stone hallways, heading to the Knights Office, near the Royal Wing. He heard whispers filling the hallway.

  “Did you see Lady Armstrong?” one of the servants spoke to another. The servant who spoke held a stack of towels to her chest, giving her follow maid a look, “I can’t believe she was wearing those weird clothes.” It sounded like Tina decided to put on her weird clothes that he found her in when they first met. Maybe he could ask her where she got them when he had a chance.

  “General Genesis was in the Training field with her. Maybe something happened between them?”

  “Did you see how he was steaming? It was rolling from his shoulders and face.” Tristan raised his eyebrow at the statement. How could Genesis be steaming in this weather?

  “Bizarre. Anyway, I have to get these to the Queen’s Tower. Princess Isabella asked for some clean towels.”

  Tristan rolled his eyes, trying to ignore his heart skipped a beat. Servants gossiping was nothing new. They fill silent as he approached and walked by. They probably would have kept speaking about Tina and Genesis if he looked like one of them. His mind turned to Isabella. He couldn’t believe she had transformed into a vampire. He hadn’t had the time to question her about what happened, but he could take a guess. It must have happened after the accident.

  “Good Morning, Sir Tristan,” a cheery voice rang out and Tristan turned his attention to the owner. Mordred of House Wintermere appeared at his side. “It is sad shame it’s raining this morning. It could have been a nice day to do a village patrol.”

  “Morning, Sir Mordred,” Tristan greeted his follow Knight, “I’m hoping to stay within the Castle today.”

  “I don’t know if that is possible,” Mordred admitted, falling into step with Tristan, “After what happen yesterday with the Non-human, I’m pretty sure security is going to be tightened.” Tristan silently agreed. “The rumors going around are interesting to say the least. Some of the villagers think we should have different form of governance instead relying on a sword to chose our ruler.”

  “Belladonna would be too eager to step into the role of Queen again,” Tristan muttered. Mordred nodded in agreement. “Or at least find a puppet to act through.”

  “I think that’s the last thing Camelot needs,” Mordred glanced around. “There have been suspicious characters going into her private chambers in the Queen’s Tower after nightfall. I do wonder what she is planning.”

  “What kind of characters?” Tristan asked, “And who inform you of this?”

  Mordred looked around before he replied, “One of the kitchen servants. He was delivering some late night snacks to the Queen’s Tower when he saw two robed figures slipping in the Queen’s Tower and disappeared into Queen Belladonna’s Quarters. He didn’t see them stop and talk to the guards posted around or within the Tower.”

  “The Guards allowed it,” Tristan frowned. He knew Belladonna kept spies in her personal employment, but they were usually more sneakier then that. He didn’t know if it was because there was no King to keep her in check or she was taking advantage of no King ruling Camelot. “Maybe she thinks there is an opening for a power grab.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” Mordred muttered, wryly, “If the Sword doesn’t choose a king soon, she might just try to declare Marshall Law and take control of the Kingdom, herself.”

  Tristan hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He couldn’t imagine Belladonna ruling Camelot again. Granted he wasn’t alive when she was High Queen, but he had heard stories since he had became a Knight about her.

  Lord Jack’s office was located near the Royal Ruling Wing of the Castle and there was a steady stream of Knights going into and leaving the office. Tristan spotted Lancelot, reading over his assignment and frowning. He spoke to the Loyal Knight, “Got an assignment you hate?”

  “Na, that’s not it,” Lancelot said, looking up at Tristan. Lancelot shook his head as if he was clearing his head, “I got something on my mind. This is the strangest assignment.” He frowned. “I’ve been instructed to shadow Lady Valentina’s movements today—ensure she doesn’t engage with any non-human visitors.”

  Tristan’s eyebrows shot up at that news. He asked, “Why?”

  “Apparently, her responses to Lord Paladin Peter was enough to cause some concern for the Queens and Father Innocent,” Lancelot admitted, “Personally, I didn’t have any concerns about her replies.”

  “You were with her?” Tristan blinked. Thoughts filled his head, especially the reason why Lancelot would be invited. Tina had stripped down in front of Lancelot once. Granted, it was for bathing, not seduction—but the image still haunted Tristan more than he cared to admit. Nothing happened. However, Lancelot had been known to sweet talk the ladies of the court into their beds. Tristan didn’t know how the other knight had been able to avoid marrying one of his lovers.

  “General Genesis and Lady Rosemary were in the room as well,” Lancelot gave Tristan a look, “There is no need to question her or my honor, Sir Tristan.”

  Tristan hurried to school his expression when Mordred coughed beside him. Both knight turned to him. Mordred started, “I’m sure this conversation is lovely, but we need to get our assignments, Sir Tristan. You can question Sir Lancelot’s intention toward the Armstrong Lady, later.”

  Tristan nodded and turned on his heel, heading into Lord Jack’s office.

  Inside, the scent of parchment and oiled leather filled the space. Knights murmured in low voices, waiting their turn at the assignment table. Lord Jack stood behind the desk, issuing orders with a practiced efficiency, handing scrolls to the waiting clerks.

  He spotted Prince Arthur. No—Sir Arthur, Tristan corrected himself again. That adjustment would take time. No doubt, the former prince was adjusting to the change himself.

  Arthur stood near the tall window, posture rigid, gaze fixed on the courtyard below—where the Holy Sword still stood in solemn silence. The rain made the paving stones glisten like glass. His reflection ghosted the window.

  Tristan approached, slowing his steps as he joined Arthur’s side.

  “You’d think it would do something,” Arthur said quietly, not turning his head. “Glow. Crackle. Pulse. Anything to show it’s still listening.”

  Tristan followed his gaze. “Maybe it is. Just not for us.”

  Arthur huffed softly. “That’s what worries me.”

  Before Tristan could respond, a clerk called his name.

  “Sir Tristan. You’ve been assigned to Village Patrol, alongside Sir Mordred and Sir Steven. Report to the West Gate.”

  Of course, Tristan thought, suppressing a sigh. So much for staying dry. As he turned, he caught Mordred’s smirk from the doorway.

  “Looks like we’re getting wet after all,” Mordred said cheerfully.

  Tristan resisted the urge to send his follow Knight a rude gesture before he spoke, “Hopefully, the rain will stop by the time, we get to the village.”

  “One could hope and pray,” Mordred replied, his eyes twinkled.

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