was forthcoming; it was not. ‘The last time you were here,’ the king said finally, ‘you set fire to something.’ Arthur grimaced down at his hands. ‘Yes. I mean – my apologies.’ ‘What was it, do you recall?’ Arthur pretended to think about it. ‘Er – I believe it was your wife, sire.’ ‘That’s right,’ said the king evenly. ‘It was only my son’s quick thinking that stopped her entire dress from going up in flames.’
