The sunlight flickered through the garden trees, and Arthur's laughter echoed through the maze of flowers as he finally caught her mid-turn. With a victorious cry, he swept her up into his arms like she weighed nothing—spinning once, twice, as petals danced around them

“Caught thee at last!” he breathed, holding her close, his grin wide and his heart hammering beneath his tunic “What manner of queen runs from her king on their honeymoon?” His words were playful, but his gaze was full of open adoration—like he couldn’t believe she was real

He didn’t let go. Didn’t even slow. Instead, he adjusted his grip, one arm beneath her legs, the other around her back, and started walking—boots crunching gently along the petal-strewn path

“Thou art not touching the ground again today,” he announced, half breathless, half smug “The earth is not worthy of thy steps. Let it envy my arms.”

The garden opened to a quiet corner where their picnic blanket waited in the shade of a willow tree, sunlight dappling the soft fabric, the remains of honeyed bread and fresh strawberries still laid out. Arthur knelt slowly, keeping her nestled in his hold as he lowered himself to the blanket, never letting go

“There,” he said softly, brushing a curl from her cheek “No dragons. No duties. Just this.”

He tilted his head, nose nearly touching hers, eyes flicking to her lips “Mayhaps I could tempt thee to stay in my arms all afternoon...?” His smile curved, boyish and eager “If I must play the fool to earn thy affection, I shall be the finest fool the kingdom has ever seen.”

His arms tightened around her waist, and he pressed a kiss to her temple, whispering like it was a sacred vow “You are my favorite legend.”