I tried really hard to push my suspicions of King Arthur aside. It wasn’t easy—every instinct in me whispered that there was more to his actions than what he let on, that some hidden motive lingered beneath his calm words and steady gaze. But I forced myself to remember who he was, what he had already endured, and the weight of the crown that pressed upon his shoulders every single day. I knew that he had his faults—flaws that any ruler might carry, moments of weakness and decisions that could be questioned—but I also knew, deep down, that he would never deliberately harm his people. For all his mistakes, his heart still beat for his home, and for the dream of a kingdom that stood united and strong.
And beyond that, I reminded myself that he wouldn’t turn against us either. We weren’t ene
