Chapter Fifteen
When I came down to the throne room the next morning, Loren was standing just outside the door looking at a portrait of a blond-haired knight. The placard in gold at the bottom read Sir Galahad, first of his name. Across his heart, he held a sword.
Loren looked down at the tip of her father’s cane where her great-grandfather’s sword protruded. “I thought my mother left me with nothing but her hair color, eyes, and those bedtime stories. But in truth, she left me with a magical sword.”
She held the sword up in the morning light. It twinkled.
“Remember that part in the Arthur stories where the Lady in the Lake gives King Arthur Excalibur?” Loren said.
“You mean the sword in the stone?” I asked.
“No. He originally got it from her in the lake.”
I didn’t know the Arthuria
