The new king of Camelot wears no shining armor: Arthur and his knights have fallen and a new king rules.
In the darkest forest...
A scared, forsaken youth has become the most powerful -- and feared -- man in the world. Ruthless and unrestrained, Kerrigan has long ceased to be human.
In the heart of London...
A spirited peasant mired in drudgery, Seren dreams of becoming her own woman, but never expects that by fleeing her fate, she will meet her destiny.
Their worlds are forever changed... Kerrigan's goal is simple: barter or kill Seren to claim Arthur's Round Table. Yet she is the one person who holds no fear of him. More than that, her nobility sparks something foreign inside him. In his nether realm, kindness is weakness and a king who harbors any sort of compassion loses his throne.
For countless centuries, Kerrigan has lived alone in the shadows. Now Seren's courage has forced him into the light that will bring either salvation to both of them...or death.
Seren stood before the aged guild masters with all her hopes showing brightly on her face as they examined the workmanship of her precious scarlet cloth. They reminded her of a group of crows, swathed in black, gathered over their latest victim. But not even that thought could dampen her hopes that they each held in their gnarled hands.
For the whole of the last year, she had worked diligently on the scarlet cloth they examined, using every spare coin, every spare moment to prepare it. Like a woman possessed, she had dragged out her mother's old wooden loom at night and worked with only the firelight to guide her.
With every brush of her comb, every thread, she had felt the power of her creation.
It was perfect. There were no discrepancies in the dye or stitches. Truly, it was a masterpiece.
And if they accepted it, then she would finally be a journeywoman and a guild member. At long last, she would be her own person! All her dreams of freedom and of being paid coin for her hard work would come true. There would be no more days of working from sunup to sundown for room and board from Master Rufus, of having to scrub clothes late at night for Mistress Maude to pay for her supplies.
She could sell her own cloth . . .
She could —
"Not good enough."
Seren blinked at the harsh pronouncement as she stared at the four men before her. "P-pardon?"
"Not good enough," the master craftsman said with a curl to his lips as he looked at her work. "I wouldn't use it for a horse blanket."
Seren couldn't breathe as her heart shrank. Nay! He was wrong. He had to be. "But I — "
"Take it," he said, tossing the cloth at her. "Come back to us when you're worthy of the trade."
The red cloth stung her face from the force of his throw. Unable to move, she stood there with it falling from her head to her arms. Instinctively, she held it to her even though she didn't know why she bothered to protect it since it was now worthless to her.
Her soul cried out in disappointment as all her dreams withered and died in the cold room.
How could they say such a thing about her work? It was a lie. She knew it. Her cloth was perfect.
Perfect!
She wanted to scream that word, but all the bitter disappointment gathered in her throat to tighten it and choke her until she could no longer speak. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real.
Someone came forward and pulled her away from the masters, toward the door in the back. Tears fell uncontrollably from her face as the harsh words echoed repeatedly in her head.
How could her cloth not be worthy?
"I spent all my time on this," she whispered, her heart breaking. "All my precious coin." She'd worn rags so she could buy the materials she'd needed to produce the cloth. She'd gone all winter with holes in her shoes, only to be told that all her sacrifices had been in vain.
How could this be?
" 'Tis not your cloth," the man whispered as he pulled her from the hall. "There are too many weavers here. They will admit no more to the guild until one leaves or dies."
Was that supposed to comfort her? To feed her? Nay, it did nothing but make her angry.
Damn them all for this.
"Take my word for it, child, you are better off without being in the guild."
"How so?"
He placed her hand on her cloth and gave her a peculiar look of warning. "You have much larger matters to concern yourself with than being an apprentice. Believe me."
Before she could ask him what he meant, the man pushed her out into the street. She heard him bolt the door behind her.
Seren stood there on the stoop of the guildhall with all her dreams shattered.
