“Thank you,” Arthur said quietly to someone behind us. I turned to watch him shake a man’s hand and walk back over to me, carrying something under his arm.
“What’s that?” I asked, a little embarrassed that I hadn't even noticed he’d walked away.
“It’s for you.” He placed a long wooden box on the marble ledge.
“What is it?”
“Just open it.”
I dropped the stole from my shoulders and laid it carefully over the railing, then, using my thumbs, pushed the latch on the box up. Before I even saw what it was, shining metal glinted in the dull candlelight. I threw the lid all the way open and reached for the sword inside, but didn’t touch it. “Arthur, this is beautiful.”
“It’s Lilithian steel.” He ran a fingertip over the blade, then lifted it and pointed to the hilt. “This snake is made of copper, to conduct electricity. If I am not mistaken about your powers, your touch should charge this blade with that energy of yours.”
With wide eyes and a round mouth, I took the sword from Arthur’s hand. It was light, comfortable, like it was made for my hands. “Where did you get this?”
“I had it commissioned for you.”
My eyes shifted from the blade to Arthur. “It’s incredible.”
“Her name is Nhym.” He pointed to the opaque markings on the steel. “This, in the language of the ancients, reads Where there is life, there is hope.”
I felt the light reflect off the blade and shine across my face, like a mask.
“Go ahead—” He turned it in my hand so the snake rested in my palm. “Try it out.”
Looking at my reflection in the darkened glass beside me, I held the sword up; face to face. Life and breath. My hands charged, the static rising, heating my wrists, my fingertips. I felt it leave my body, felt it snake up the copper embellishment into the blade, and the blue light circled the tip, soft yet powerful, like lashes of plasma in a globe. It looked pretty, innocent, harmless, but I knew the damage it would do to any who dared strike their metal against mine.
“It’s perfect, Arthur.” I lowered the blade and let the electricity simmer away with a deep breath. Though the pounding in my head made me want to fold over and hold my temples, I didn't; Arthur’s warm smile and the eagerness in his eyes forced me to show only appreciation. But not just for the sword—for being the only one who ever actually believed in me. “I can't think of another person in this entire manor who would’ve thought of such a gift, Arthur.”
“It’s not just a gift, Amara. It’s a statement.”
“Statement?”
He took the sword delicately from my hands and laid it back in the box. “You’re ready for this. You’re ready to fight for your people, my queen. This weapon symbolises you stepping into your role as not only our leader, but a warrior for your people. With the gift of life—” he touched Nhym “—at your fingertips, you will be the one who leads us to freedom.”
I thrust myself forward, wrapping my arms around his neck; he patted my rib cage softly, laughing.
“Thank you, Arthur. Thank you for always believing in me.”
“Well, Amara—” He cupped both hands against my sides and pulled away from the hug, holding me there, just in front of his body, “—You give me good reason to believe in you. What Mike sees, what your people see, it holds no bearing on what you’re capable of. And I have seen it in you. I have seen you fight against all manner of terror to survive—to give hope of a better world.”
I dropped my arms back down to my sides, as did Arthur, and we stood in front of each other, nothing much to say, but comfortable in the closeness of friendship.
“Hey, Arthur?”
“Yes, my dear.”
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“Of course,” he said, fastening the snake latch in place on Nhym’s box.
I moved away and hoisted myself onto the marble ledge, my dress puffing up around my hips and ribs, falling in layers toward my feet. “Why don't you have a girlfriend or anything?”
He half laughed, wiping a hand across his nose. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I don't know.” I twirled a lock of hair around my finger. “You just…you seem like such a nice guy. It doesn't make sense that you never married or anything.”
He leaned on the balcony ledge beside me. “I’ve never found someone to love after Arietta.”
“Why don't you just date someone—maybe you'd fall in love?”
“Date?” His brow arched.
“Yeah. You dated Morgaine once, right?”
“Morgaine?” He almost spat the words out. “What ever gave you that idea?”
Cold washed through me, my cheeks burning with the warm rush after. “I…that’s what people say.”
He scratched his head, his face all screwed up. He looked kinda human when he did that—not so much like a seventeenth-century prince. “Uh, well…Morgaine and I may have…” He moved his hand down and scratched his neck. “We might have…bedded, but—”
I burst out laughing, barely covering my mouth to catch all the spit. “Oh, my God. Arthur, you're so awkward about this stuff.”
He dropped his hand, a Cheshire cat grin narrowing his eyes. “Well, Majesty, I come from a time where men did not discuss such things, especially not with a lady—his queen, to be exact.”
I grabbed his hand and cupped my other one over it. “But times are moving, Arthur.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.”
“Look, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but I think about it a lot—how lonely it must be to have no one. You know, you go back to an empty room every night, for all eternity. Never have someone to lay with, talk with, tell secrets to.”
He nodded, sliding his hand slowly out of mine. “It does get tiresome.”
“So, why not date?”
His dimple showed with the thoughts rolling across his face. “I don't fit in so well these days. I'm afraid I’ve spent too much time in the depths of century old traditions and monarchies. I would have to either date someone from our world, or make a fool of myself in the human realm.”
“You’d fit in with humans just fine,” I said, jumping down off the ledge, feeling shorter suddenly beside him. “You just need to loosen up a little. Here—” I grabbed both his shoulders and pulled forward. “Slouch a bit. You're so stiff. This isn’t the army.”