King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3 by K.M. Shea Read Free Book Online Page A

My Lord,” Sir Kay said, running a hand down his horse’s front left leg. He still had an aversion to calling her Britt or Arthur.
    Britt picked up a brush and turned to her horse. “I’m starting to doubt he will. We’ve been at this for months,” she said as the mare nuzzled her.
    “Merlin will see it through. He is nothing if not determined and filled with perseverance. He planned for this when he was but a child himself. He will put you on the throne,” Sir Kay said.
    At that moment Merlin banged into the stables, upsetting Britt and the horses.
    “What are you doing out here, the trial starts at noon! You’re filthy and wretched looking,” Merlin said, clearly aghast.
    Britt dusted horse hair off her tunic. “Always the charmer aren’t you? But who cares when the trial starts? I’m only needed for the last few minutes, and it’s just going to end with scheduling another.”
    “No, it will not. Brice—the Archbishop—has decided enough is enough. He is going to crown you today regardless of the dissatisfaction King Lot and his conspirators. Come lad, you need to be properly dressed.”
    “What?”
    “You need to be properly dressed! You look more like a pig keeper than a king.”
    “No, before that. I’m going to be crowned King ? Today?”
    “I do not understand your shock. That has been our goal all along, now stop yapping and start moving. Thank you, Sir Kay, for staying with Arthur,” Merlin said as he dragged Britt out of the stables.
    Sir Kay shrugged and his horse neighed.

    Britt leaned against a doorway as she watched man after man pull and yank on the sword in the anvil. More than one older baron had thrown out his back during his attempt, and watching the knights strain was an easier task than listening to Merlin and his cohorts battle it out behind her.
    “We need to press Arthur’s heritage. He’s the son of Uther Pendragon, he’s the rightful heir to the throne,” Sir Ulfius said.
    “A royal pedigree means very little to the general population. They will follow anyone who is charismatic and offers them protection. We should show our support of Arthur the instant he pulls the sword from the stone and the people will follow our lead,” Sir Bodwain argued.
    “Pulling the sword from the stone is a miracle. No one besides Arthur can pull it, let us use the sword as our rallying cry,” another knight said.
    “That won’t work. He is generally unimpressive to look at. Certainly he’s tall enough, but he hasn’t so much as a spot of fuzz on his chin. In spite of Merlin’s best efforts he still looks like a girl. Not to mention he hasn’t a spine to speak of, he shows no ambition, and his leadership skills are woefully absent,” another knight challenged.
    Britt yawned—she had grown use to the arguments and abuse concerning her looks—but turned around, shocked, when she heard Sir Ector growl, “My Britt has plenty pluck, it cannot be helped that you don’t understand that, you great gaping fool!”
    Merlin patted Sir Ector on the shoulder. “His name is Arthur,” he reminded him as he passed them, his voice light in spite of the argument.
    The knights spared Merlin a glance before they continued to argue the best strategy to rally people behind Britt during her crowning ceremony.
    “Aren’t you going to join in?” Britt asked Merlin when he joined her at the open door.
    “And ruin their fun? Goodness, no,” Merlin said, adjusting the fall of his storm colored robe on his shoulders.
    “You usually run these types of conversations with an iron fist, though. Anything that has to do with my rule you become a bulldog over,” Britt said.
    “A bull-dog? What a hideous image. And no, I intend to leave the knights be for several reasons. The foremost being that it will keep them occupied.”
    “Oh? Aren’t you worried about getting the peasants to like me?” Britt asked.
    “No, not at all,” Merlin shook his head.
    “Why not?”
    “We have no reason to court them