England

THE CROWN HAD a certain weight to it, a kind that I knew I could grow used to over time. I set it on my own head, and nothing changed.

But I did hold my head a little higher, I pushed my shoulders back, I walked a little more gracefully.

"It suits you," Arthur told me, a smile on his face. He came up to where I stood, waiting, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I don't know if that's proper," I said, blushing fiercely, before I pulled away.

"It's most likely not," Arthur admitted, dropping his arms to his sides. "But I love you."

It was so sweet, the way he so effortlessly let those words roll off his tongue, the way the words were like second nature.

I didn't say anything, but I smiled, and I hope that was enough. Camille could be anywhere, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and I could't allow my guard to fall.

Arthur returned my smile and went to watch our horses again once more, glancing over at me every so often.

I stood near the front of the group, waiting for the signal. Camille would emerge, and we would talk. She would realize the error in her ways, and we would all go back to normal.

I knew that was wishful thinking the second I thought it, but it was a nice idea.

The trees shook lightly in the breeze, creating goosebumps up and down my arms. I knew the weather had nothing to do with what was about to happen, but it didn't help the apprehension slowly growing among the ranks. 

Finally, when the silence grew to be too great, and I was about to order a retreat, a stick snapped somewhere in the woods. Everyone went rigid, silent, listening for the incoming attack.

The only attack we were assaulted with, however, was that of a princess in a brilliant yellow gown who smelled of roses.

"Hello, Lyra. I'm terribly sorry I lied..." Camille grimaced. "Wait. No I'm not, you spilled your guts to me. Now all I need is England."

 "Camille, always a pleasure," I replied smoothly, deciding at that moment to be the bigger person.

Merlin glanced at me from atop his horse (how on Earth did he get up there?) before looking straight ahead once again.

This was a battle of queens.

"Upgrade the crown?" Camille asked, a delicate brow lifting to her hairline. 

"I did. I see you didn't," I observed, taking the familiar tiara in her hair in.

"You aren't worth it."

"Thank you, I never wanted to be worth it to you," I stated, walking to the treeline to stand in front of the princess.

The traitor.

"Shall we proceed to negotiations? I have a nice little hut out in the woods. You should bring Alfred, I think you'll need him. What, with all the real royalty lingo," Camille said, pulling a branch up to reveal a hidden pathway. Her gaze flickered to something behind me before a slow smile spread across her lips.

I ignored the last sentence, instead gesturing to Alfred for him to follow me. We traveled down a short path that did indeed lead to a little hut.

It would have been charming, had it not been surrounded by Camille's army.

I had underestimated the Saxons' size. There had to be thousands of men smashed into the small clearing, most likely thousands more behind the tree line.

This was a show of power, and I knew it, but I also knew that I needed to keep my cool.

A guard standing by the small wooden door opened it and closed it once we were inside the modest hut.

The furniture was sparse, only a table and chairs to fill the space.

Two chairs on one side.

Two on the other.

I couldn't help but wonder who would be taking that chair beside her.

Camille sat down first, and tea was brought to her soon after. It seemed as though there were eyes in the walls to make sure nothing too violent happened.

And, I supposed, the appropriate times to serve their queen.

I sat stiffly across from Camille, and Alfred sat quietly beside me. I had never seen him so unmoving, so quiet.

It was strange.

"I assume you know why I have called this meeting today," Camille tapped her spoon against the side of her tea cup, resulting in a dull clang that somehow filled the room.

"I do," I replied, smiling serenely.

Camille betrayed no emotion, but I could feel the rising tension in the room. The spoon she had been using to stir her tea was placed next to her tea cup, and Camille took a sip before continuing.

"It's no secret that I would be a better ruler than you. England needs someone strong to lead it, and I am that someone." Camille spoke with conviction, with confidence.

Except she didn't want England nearly as bad as I did.

"I will never give you my country. England can grow with me, as there is no impending threat besides your army. If there could be a truce-"

"There can never be peace until England is a Saxon nation. It is my mission to become the worthy queen England needs. Your people don't even know you're a girl. What makes you think they will respect you after you spent weeks lying to them?"

"What makes you think they won't respect me. I pulled the sword, a kingmaker in its own right. I am the rightful heir to the Pendragon throne." I was angry now, and so was Camille. Neither of us were even bothering to hide it.

"Dynasties were made to be toppled."

"Wars were made to be won."

"I will be happy to win this war, if that's what you're implying," Camille grinned, finally breaking her perfect posture to sit back in her chair.

"I'm implying that I will come out on top."

"If you win, it will be because other people made the decisions for you."

"When I win, it will be because I am the superior queen, worthy of ruling all of England," I bit back, worried I had just revealed something that had hit a little too close to home.

Something she could use against me.

"There can never be peace between us," Camille said, but I ignored her and turned to Alfred.

"When I give the signal," I muttered, too low for Camille to come close to understanding. "You will run out and tell our men to attack their army unsuspectingly. The hut is to remain undamaged and they may call back for the battalion I had following us at a distance. We must come out on top."

"Yes, Majesty," Alfred replied, a grim understanding flooding his features.

"You can whisper all you want," Camille sipped her tea. "I will win, all the same."

"And you would formally decline a truce?" I tried one more time before giving Alfred the signal.

"I would," Camille confirmed, and I tapped the table three times.

Alfred rose from the table.

"And where do you think you're going?" Camille asked, her eyes darting up to look at Alfred. While she was looking away, I pulled Excalibur into a more accessible position.

"My queen has decided that I am no longer necessary," Alfred explained. "I am to leave at once."

Camille smiled thinly at me. "Very well. Off you go, then."

Her french accent was becoming more and more prevalent. Perhaps that was a sign that she was growing tired of these arguments. 

We could carry on all day and get nowhere.

We were quiet for a moment, Camille sipping her tea and me glaring at the wall behind her. I hoped I had given Alfred enough time; I wanted to lay the board out so Camille would know how bad I had beaten her, how wrong she was about me.

I had not walked into this meeting unprepared.

"Now, do you think you will be a good queen, if I were to hand England over to you?" I asked, a couple minutes later. I was setting the trap.

She fell right into it.

"Of course. I was born to rule a large kingdom. My father raised me from birth to lead England into a golden age. The only thing standing between me and my birthright is you. Peasant scum."

"Would a queen have orchestrated her own defeat, as you have?" I asked, a pleasant smile on my face. I was dancing around the point now, and she knew it. 

"Why must you speak in riddles, in games? Get to the point," Camille demanded, her speech dripping in her accent.

I delighted in making her feel unprepared.

"Well, I just dismissed my advisor," I started, "one of my closest friends."

"Yes, you did."

"He ran off to tell my general to call for the battalion we hid behind the bloodbath you sent us through," I continued. "As of right now, my men are attacking from behind."

My smile turned deadly. "And your men are unsuspecting."

A scream from outside the hut supported my statement.

Camille stood abruptly, but I stayed sitting. "Are you crazy? You must be mad! My army is ten times the size-"

"Your army is unsuspecting. I doubt half of them are actually awake right now, as they're being attacked. As I said before, I laid the trap, but you chose to step in it."

"You won't be laughing when I come after you! I've snuck in the palace before, why would next time be any different?" Camille looked beyond panicky now, her eyes frantically searching for a way out, a way to prove me wrong.

"I will have the loyalty of England by the time you can regroup, Camille. There's no victory path left for you." 

"Yes there is!" She threw open the door and ran into the fray of battle, her glittering tiara glistening in the sunlight before she was out of my sight.

I let her run while I stood on the porch of the hut, unharmed.

I allowed myself a moment to feel the triumph, the elation, at outmaneuvering someone raised to be a war general.

Then I plunged head first into the fray.

It was probably stupid. It was probably careless.

I was both of those things whenever Excalibur was humming for blood in my hands.

I could never kill a man, but I could injure someone and leave them to be finished off by someone else.

It was the only way, I reminded myself, to win.

To protect my people.

The blade was an extension of me, of my arm, and we moved in perfect unison. It was a deadly arc whenever I turned its cruel point on anyone who dared cross my path.

Someone came up behind me.

Excalibur moved, slicing down the man's chest.

A man was trapped beneath the enemy, the sword held out in front of him about to chop off his head.

Instead, Excalibur found a target in the enemy's back.

When I had finally made it across the field, the formerly shining steel of the blade was covered in a rusted copper color.

The color of blood.

I walked into the trees, checking behind me every so often to make sure no one was following me.

Just to be safe, I went in circles for a few moments before returning to my horse. Arthur wasn't there like I had expected him to be, but perhaps him and Merlin were making a difference on the battlefield. Anything we could do to damage their numbers would be of great help to my cause of keeping England.

I mounted my mare and rode to the other side of the blood filled clearing with the bodies of my solders to the designated meeting spot. When Merlin, Arthur, Alfred, two guards, and I were present, we were to get as far away from the fray of battle as possible. 

I was the first one to make it to the point.

The sounds of steel on steel were faint, but I could hear the battle cries and screams of terror clear as day.

I could only hope that the element of surprise hadn't warn off, and that the Saxons weren't regaining their edge.

I don't know what would happen if I had just sent everyone to die.

I waited with baited breath, the stench from the clearing in front of me overpowering. The worst part, I learned in those moments, was the waiting.

The waiting to know if someone you loved had survived.

The waiting to know if you had made the right choice, the right move in an unending game of chess.

But when I heard movement near me, there was no feeling of relief.

Only dread.

Word Count: 2061

Total Word Count: 29267

What do you think of this chapter? I personally loved writing evil Camille!

Thank you for reading, there's only two (!!) more Lyra chapters left, unless something changes. Then we'll get one from Merlin, and She Who is King will be over until its turned into a novel!

Thank you for reading, commenting, and voting, seeing you doing those things truly make my day. And shout out to the silent readers! I love you guys too :)

CJ