“I feel Sel’s gaze on the back of my neck, on my cheek, before I hear his voice. “Mae hi’n brydferth.” “What?” I ask. Nick turns when I do, just as confused. Arthur’s memories don’t recognize modern Welsh, and I only know a little. I do recognize the words for “she” and “beautiful” though. Or maybe Nick isn’t just as confused as me, because a slow, laughing smile spreads across his face, like he understands Sel’s game already. He leans a hip against the wall to watch me beside his Kingsmage, eyes teasing. “Ydi, mae hi. Yn dragwyddol.” Maybe that last word was “forever.” “Beautiful forever”? No, “always”? I flush, then pout. “Because of Arthur, I’m only fluent in Old Welsh, not modern. You know this isn’t fair.” “We know,” they respond together, and laugh.”