TITLE: AVALON RISING
GENRE: YA fantasy
"Let the petty Kings have their way," Merlin said, dragging Arthur back into the council room. "Now is not the time for a tantrum."
Arthur glared at Merlin, attempting to wrench his arm away from the wizard's death grip. He dug his heels into the soft dirt but only managed to kick up a cloud of dust. So this was how it felt to be a condemned man marching to the gallows. Beyond that heavy door sat the Province Kings in their annual council of elders.
"I'm not allowed to argue? I'm supposed to accept whatever those addlepated idiots decide?" Arthur shot back, stomping his foot in protest once Merlin stopped walking.
"Correct," Merlin replied, squeezing Arthur's arm to emphasize his words. "You don't have a choice in the matter. You're the King of England, start acting like it and accept your fate with grace."
Arthur was poised to respond when he was thrust into the council room. He stumbled, though quickly caught his footing, aware that the council had immediately ceased their chattering. No one stood to show Arthur any sort of respect. He hated to admit it, but their continued rejection of his kingship stung. Arthur hated when these meetings didn't take place in Camelot – being so far away made him feel like everyone was against him.
No, wait, they were.
"It is agreed. The wedding preparations shall commence before the next full moon."
A gavel should have struck the well-worn table to punctuate King Philip's statement -- and Arthur's perceived death sentence.