Chapter Two
A week later, we set off for Camelot, Arthur’s permanent home some miles west of Carlisle. We took the two-day journey at a leisurely pace but rose early on the third morning at Arthur’s insistence. We arrived just as the eastern clouds were slowly breaking, the first light of dawn glowing rose and gold in their underbelly.
Arthur lowered my hood and kissed the top of my head, whispering into my hair, “Behold your kingdom, my queen.”
My breath caught in my throat as we rounded a bend and the land ahead came into view. High above, on a lofty hill, a massive fortress made of gray stone held court. Its elegant square turrets reached like arms into the sky while graceful arches stretched across courtyards like limber sinews and glazed windows winked in the morning light.
Thi
