Krysia helped Uther with his clasp before going out to the main square to greet the other kings. It was subtle, but she could see his hands were shaking. He took a deep breath and stared over her shoulder as she did the clasp.

"All will be well, sire," she said softly.

"You speak with far more certainty than we have any right to at present," he said. "At least it's a fine day."

"The gesture you have made toward peace will not be ignored," she said. "If they were not interested, surely they would not have accepted."

"You're right, of course," Uther said, nodding. "An olive branch must be held out by someone. It may as well be Camelot."

Krysia took a step back and scrutinized the king's appearance. She carefully adjusted his jacket, and she was surprised when he took her hands in his, lifting them from his clothing and holding them gently.

"Your work may not be praised out loud," he said softly, "but your efforts are not unnoticed. You are an integral part of this gathering, Krysia. I do want you to know how much I value that effort."

She was surprised, but she thanked him and slipped her hands out of his hold. She couldn't put her finger on why, but she was a bit disconcerted by the nature of the compliment. Her hands seemed unusually cold.

They walked to the square and awaited the various parties. Krysia stood a step behind Uther, watching him greet the various kings. King Alined arrived first, and she bit her tongue as he dropped his cloak as he dismounted, resulting in him yelling at his servant.

"Alined," Uther said, ignoring the unfortunate exchange. "You are most welcome on this momentous occasion."

They grasped arms, and Krysia couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something not quite right about Alined's expression as he answered.

"Momentous?" he said. "Let us hope so."

Krysia waved forward a servant to assist and direct them, and she watched them leave.

"Who is next to arrive?" Uther asked Arthur.

"According to the scouts, King Olaf would be the next."

Uther turned to Krysia next, and before she could be asked, she said, "Guinevere will be serving the Lady Vivian, and Krant will be seeing to the king's needs. However, Guinevere had a few last-minute details that needed be attended for the Lady Morgana, and she will not be available in time to escort her to her chambers. Would you like me to—"

"No, father," Arthur said. "I believe I ought to escort the Lady Vivian. From my memory, she is notoriously difficult, and Krysia has other things to see to."

Uther nodded his approval of this plan, and Arthur went to the Lady Vivian's horse where it came to a stop to help her dismount. Krysia nodded to Krant, who came forward at the ready to assist King Olaf, should it be required.

The king and his daughter approached Uther, and Olaf did not appear to be in good spirits.

"What kind of welcome is this?" Olaf said. "You have us hanging around like the last swallows of summer."

"You are welcome indeed, Olaf," Uther said.

"May I present my daughter, the Lady Vivian."

"Lady Vivian," Uther said, bowing slightly to her. "How like your mother you are."

Lady Vivian seemed suitably pleased by the compliment, but it was one that made Krysia uncomfortable. It wasn't said in precisely the tone he used when he was looking at her pensively, but it was close enough as to be disconcerting.

As Bayard's horse strode into the courtyard, another shiver ran down Krysia's spine, and she leaned toward the king.

"Sire," she said, "Clay will see King Bayard to his quarters. If I don't see to a few things, the feast will not be ready."

"Very well," Uther said. "Return if you can."

She bowed her head to both Uther and Olaf, and she hurried away, hoping Bayard hadn't noticed her.

/-/

The banquet hall seemed hotter and stiffer than usual. Perhaps it was the mass of bodies who had come with the kings. Perhaps it was the fact that Bayard kept staring at her. Krysia had avoided being anywhere near him when she could, but serving the high table meant serving each of the five kings. Uther always nodded his appreciation when she filled his cup, and Alined largely ignored her, but Bayard stared at her with that knowing look every time she was near him, and she worried someone would see.

Krysia tried to ignore his attention, and there was certainly plenty of distraction. Alined's servant-cum-fool was entertaining the court and its guests, and he was currently displaying his ability to breathe fire. The blaze was brilliant, and there was much cheering, but Bayard caught her arm as she was about to fill Olaf's cup.

"You'll bring extra pillows to my quarters tonight?" he whispered.

"Pillows can be brought, sire," she said.

"You'll bring them personally?"

Again, that knowing look, this time tilting a smile at his lips.

"If you wish, sire," she said.

He let go of her arm, and she hurried to Olaf's side to fill his cup.

"But it is not enough to please just the gentlemen of the court," the fool was saying. "Now I have a spectacle for the ladies."

Out of nowhere, the man produced butterflies. Uther seemed impressed, but Krysia had a small tingling on the back of her neck that suggested that this was perhaps magic. She watched very closely as he approached the Lady Vivian. He put his hand behind her ear and retrieved a butterfly on the back of his hand. The tingling had intensified.

Harmless, perhaps, but bold to do such tricks in front of Uther in the court of Camelot.

"It has mistaken you for a beautiful flower," he said, and Lady Vivian seemed delighted.

/-/

Krysia brought fresh pillows to Bayard's quarters, carrying them nervously all the way. When he opened his door to her knock, he bowed his head, and she wished she had cause to smack him. Instead she entered the room and began to arrange the pillows.

"Stop debasing yourself in my presence," he said firmly, closing the door. "Zosia would kill me if I let her daughter do such work."

She stood straight and still, fighting the urge to smooth her hair off her neck as much as she fought the urge to continue adjusting the pillows. Bayard took a few steps toward her, but he stopped short of where she expected.

"It is disappointing to see you still playing this game," Bayard said. "My son is still unmarried. And I assure you, you grow more into the image of your mother by the day. Uther is not a man who could forget her, even if he tried actively. It is a matter of time if you stay in Camelot."

Krysia closed her eyes, holding her breath for a long moment, trying to decide what it was he really wanted. She doubted that he was only concerned for her safety.

"I know," she whispered.

She heard him take another step closer.

"In Mercia, you would be safe, my lady," he said gently. "You would be comfortable. You would want for nothing. You could be a queen, or you could choose not to marry my son if it did not please you. We would help you retake your lands—"

Krysia laughed, able to hear the coldness in her own laugh without meaning it. Bayard froze, and she opened her eyes, turning to face his surprise.

"That is your purpose, then," she said. "You want the lands of my parents, which only belong to me, which my parents had pledged to Uther. The lands of House Adaire were long part of Mercia, were they not?"

To his credit, Bayard did not try to deny this. Instead he said, "Lord Inthorn held off Mercia, Escetir, and Camelot all, but it was only a matter of time before the lands were joined to one of us, by force or by marriage. Zosia was a wise woman. She made her deal with Uther and still managed to make her choice in marriage. Few have ever played the game so well."

He cleared his throat and looked at a spot over her shoulder.

"But you mistake me," he said. "I respected Zosia's choices, always, no matter what they cost me personally. She was my friend, and a dear one. I was unable to aid her when she begged my help, and that failure will haunt me the rest of my life. But I can try to aid her now. I can help you, my lady, if you'll only allow me."

Krysia tilted her head, trying to get a sense of him in the firelight. The shadows of fire could exaggerate a man's expression, but she did believe he was contrite, and somehow pained. She wondered what plea her mother had made that he was unable to give. To take her in as a child? To take the other children? To change Uther's mind? All those requests were foolish, of course, and her mother must have known that Bayard could have accomplished none of them, but perhaps the desperation drove her to beg, regardless.

"While I am sorry that there is nothing I can do to alleviate your pain," Krysia said softly, "this is my home until I die. If that were to come sooner than later, that is little matter. You are kind, sire, but I will not leave."

Bayard's facial muscles contracted as if he were in physical pain, but he bowed his head again and said, "As you wish, my lady. But if ever you do have need of me—"

"Of course," she said. "But in the interest of peace, I ask that we say no more of this."

He bowed his head a bit lower, and she saw herself out, trying to ignore the shaking in her hands.

/-/

The following morning, before talks could commence, Krysia examined the flooring for possible faults or spills missed from the feasting. She then considered each chair at the table and was considering adjusting placement in consideration to the size of each guest when she was startled by someone entering.

"Apologies," Leon said, smiling when she smiled at him. "I only wanted to inquire if there was anything you needed."

"No, I shouldn't think so," Krysia said, forcing a smile. "Leon, will you stand here for a moment?"

"Here?" he said, taking the place she suggested.

"Yes, now, in this light, do the chairs appear evenly placed to you?"

He hesitated, but he did look at the table.

"I would never wish to second-guess your work—"

"The kings will."

"Well, it does appear that the chair on the end is closer to its neighbor than the others."

She hummed, then led him to straight in front of the chairs. His eyebrows jumped up.

"I was afraid of that," she said. "You are about the height of Alined, and this is indeed his chair. Entering from there, as he will, he's bound to be offended, but if I move it further away, then when he approaches the chair, he will be offended. I'm not certain how to balance the two."

"I am certain you will find the appropriate balance," Leon said. "Is there anything else, my lady?"

Again, Krysia startled, and she looked up at him, feeling a bit afraid.

"Apologies," he said, realizing what he'd done. "I am sorry, Krysia, I just…." He gave her a weak smile. "The words feel right for you."

"What words?" said the familiar voice of Geraint, who strolled in. "The king is approaching with Bayard, Krysia. I wanted to give you a head's up and see if you needed assistance."

"If you could find Clay," she said, "he's meant to be bringing the paperwork, but I haven't seen him this morning."

Geraint nodded and said to Leon, "What words?"

Leon's jaw worked, and he seemed almost nervous. His fear was probably for looking foolish in front of a friend, especially one as prone to teasing as Geraint, but he couldn't begin to know how little she could afford that teasing to occur in Uther's earshot. Leon turned his attention to the floor.

"Alright, I can tell when I'm not wanted," Geraint said with a laugh. "I've got to hunt down Clay, anyway. Anything else, Krysia?"

"No, thank you," she said.

When they were alone again, Leon went around the table and shifted the chair ever-so-slightly to further from the other chairs.

"How is this?" he said.

Krysia took a few steps back and nodded. Imperceptible from the front. He went to stand in the light again, from the main entry, and he nodded.

"Better," he said. "Unless King Alinor is spoiling for a fight, you will be fine." He smiled weakly at her. "I apologize for…"

"Embarrassing me?" she said. He winced. "It's alright, Leon. You meant nothing by it. Just…try not to say things like that in front of other people. Geraint would only tease, but others might—"

"I understand," he said softly. "However, when we're…when it's just…" His smile tightened. "I'm afraid I'll always think of you as a lady, Krysia, however much you protest."

"With hands like these?" she said, teasing.

He took a few steps toward her, still in the high light of the windows, the sunlight haloing his blond curls in an almost heavenly way. He took her hands in his and gently ran his gloved thumbs over her calluses.

"Your hands are graceful," he said softly, "fair, strong. You can hold delicate items with grace, and you can operate a crossbow with accuracy. The same could be said of any lady worth her salt."

He squeezed gently at her fingers, and she remembered what Gaius had said at the tournament, about not teasing Leon. She pulled her hands from his and said, "You probably have things that need doing."

He bowed his head as Bayard had done the night before, and she felt a strange sense of foreboding.

"Everything will go well," he said, "because you arranged it, Krysia. Trust yourself."

She thanked him as he left, and she watched Uther and Bayard turn the corner into the council chamber, heavily in conversation. Both paused when the saw her, each bowing their heads lightly, Bayard with a small smile, Uther with a mildly startled expression that he recovered quickly.

"Is everything prepared?" Uther said.

"Clay is bringing the papers from the scribes directly," she said, "but otherwise we are prepared. Would you like lunch in the council chambers or elsewhere?"

"A wise woman once said that lunch could be had when deals were struck," Uther said with a weak smile, and Bayard looked uncomfortably amused. "I will tell you when I see how things go."

/-/

The peace talks were as tense as Krysia had expected. Apart from water, which she kept readily supplied, and actual supplies for writing, she was careful not to make any suggestion of food, on Uther's order. They spent the better part of the morning discussing the northern territories, about which Olaf and Bayard had a great deal to say. There were a couple of times when she thought the two men might come to blows, but Uther was always able to calm them down. It wasn't lost on her that Bayard liked to wind men up, or that Olaf was easily wound, or that Alined was suspiciously quiet. True, he could have little to say about the northern lands, being so far south himself, but he made no effort to insist on peace between the two men, either.

"Your demands are noted," Uther said to Bayard, "and will be taken into consideration in due course. In the meantime, is there anyone else who has any other comments about the northern territories?"

Krysia was surprised to see Merlin slip in and gesture to Arthur, who had been distracted all morning. Krysia watched Arthur excuse himself just as Olaf began to pontificate again.

"Well, may I just point out that the claim should not be made without the assent of Deira?" Olaf said as Arthur slipped out.

"Noted again," Uther said. She could tell he was wearying, and before he could say something to offend Olaf, she decided to take initiative.

"Sire," she said, "perhaps now that we have made the ground that will be made on the northern territories, it would be best to break for lunch before the southern ones?"

"An excellent suggestion," Bayard said with his knowing smile again. "Uther?"

Uther agreed, and she told the kings that they could adjourn to the king's solar for lunch in twenty minutes.

/-/

That night, in the dim of the evening, Krysia was settling down, tired and sore from the surprisingly difficult day, and Merlin entered looking mildly distressed.

"I may have caused a problem," Merlin said. "Although it wasn't entirely my doing."

"What now, Merlin?" Gaius said.

"Arthur's in love."

"And how did you cause that?"

"To my knowledge he was already in love," Krysia said. "Or on his way to it. I'm guessing you mean something different?"

"That bit isn't my fault, the other bit is." Merlin frowned, nervous. "Oh, I can't tell you about that bit."

"Clear as mud," Gaius said.

"Arthur's completely besotted, he can't concentrate on anything. All he thinks about, all he talks about is…is the Lady Vivian."

"The Lady Vivian?" Gaius said, with all the astonishment Krysia felt. "How could that have happened so suddenly?"

"It can't have," Krysia said, feeling the tingling on her spine again.

"I don't know," Merlin said. "Something doesn't feel right. Only yesterday he dismissed her as rude."

"If Arthur professes his love for Vivian, Olaf will be furious," Gaius said. "Surely Arthur knows that?"

Merlin nodded, then said, "See, he said it was his job to woo his lady by the end of the day."

"And it's your job to stop him."

A/N:

I hope y'all are enjoying so far! As announced on the previous chapter, I'm turning this into a series, so this portion is actually part six in the series. Want to read part one? Look for Camelot: Forged from Ashes. Do you have to? No, but it will enhance your reading of this story. Go all the way back to the beginning, meet Krysia's mother as she tells a lot of men no, and see Uther go from the third son to uniting a kingdom under him. I promise a wild ride.

-C