Ywain’s smile was small, but it went deep. “You make quite the picture, My Lord.”
Griflet shook his head in wonder as he backed up to stand with Ywain. “You look like an ElfKing.”
Britt shifted and moved in her new armor—which the best blacksmiths of Camelot had scrambled to forge for her. “Someone said something similar about me in the battle against King Lot. What on earth does it mean?”
“It means you are a king too fair, just, and brilliant to be human. That you look holy enough to rule over the elves and the faerie folk themselves,” Ywain said with hushed reverence.
“Ywain, Griflet, thank you for your help,” Britt said. Neither of the boys had asked why Britt could not put on the armor herself when she approached them that morning. Their silence was the biggest blessing Britt could ask for.
“It is our honor,” they said, bowing to Britt.
Britt smiled to them before she turned to the door and opened it. She listened to the men roar for a few minutes behind the veil of the tapestry and shut her eyes.
What if this didn’t work? What if her knights remained within Morgause’s grasp after this?
Britt felt the reassuring weight of Excalibur on her hip. “Then I’ll take care of her,” Britt whispered to the air. “Then I will chase her to the end of Britain, and I will make her wish she had never set foot in Camelot until she gives them up.”
Britt turned around one last time to look at Ywain and Griflet.
Ywain bowed with an unfathomably deep smile, and Griflet’s eyes filled with tears as he smiled broadly.
“You make me proud to be your knight, My Lord, even if I’m not any good at it,” Griflet said on an impulse.
“You make me proud to serve you, My Lord. And as I agreed when I took my vows to you, you have my loyalty for all my life,” Ywain said.
Their words gave Britt the last bit of courage she needed to step past the tapestry and onto the dais.
Britt confidentially crossed the dais, stopping at the top stair to slide Excalibur out of its scabbard. She picked up a shield next to her throne that she had planted the night before and adjusted her grip on it before taking a deep breath.
Already a few of the knights at the base of the dais were staring up at her, but silence was what she needed. Stiffened with resolve, Britt extended Excalibur and swung it against the shield. The rattling jar from the shield made her teeth shake, but the sound was unmistakable in the din of the room, and Excalibur flashed like harnessed lightning.
“SILENCE,” Britt thundered.
A dropping hair pin could have been heard in the quiet that followed as all the knights looked up at Britt.
Britt set the shield down and sheathed Excalibur, unaware of the figure she struck.
Griflet had been close when he called her an ElfKing. As Britain had never had a warrior maiden king before, it had never beheld a figure like Britt.
She was tall, for both her time period and the one she was now in, but her narrow shoulders and lack of hulking muscle was made clear from the cut of her armor. Instead of making her appear weak, it highlighted the strength in her posture. Her high cheek bones, dazzling golden hair, and her blazing blue eyes spoke of beauty set on fire when matched with the confidence she held herself with and her beautiful sword form.
Britt took the knight’s silence for surprise, but in truth it was closer to reverence. Had they always served such a splendid looking king? They had. They knew they had. They remembered the way Arthur flew at Lot and the usurp kings like a vengeful dragon when Sir Ector had been unhorsed. How could they forget that?
Britt inhaled deeply before speaking. “I must apologize, because I have wronged you. All of you.”
The silence was choking. Britt had hoped for some kind of reaction, but there was none.
“I did not trust you when you have given me nothing but your confidence and devotion. I forgot so quickly the terrible battle we lived through together. I forgot how you fearlessly rode out and killed for me, how you were injured and even slain for me—a beardless youth,” she said, cracking a slight smile.
No one laughed.
“I forgot that in London it was you who wanted me as your King, and it was because of you that I was crowned. It is altogether too easy to take personal credit for standing up here on this dais, reigning as king, But,” Britt paused and walked down the steps, her new armor gleaming in the light of the throne room. “The only reason I can stand is because of you.”