King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3 (27 page)

Britt took a step towards Morgause, ignoring her desire to sneeze when Morgause’s cloying lily perfume swamped her senses. She was taller than Morgause, the height difference was highlighted as Britt drew closer to her. “I don’t often do. What of it?”

Morgause took a step back under the intensity of Britt’s gaze, and Britt shifted her lips until she was tightly smiling. “Ask Merlin,” she advised before stalking towards the castle keep, barely aware of Morgause’s four sons who watched her leave.

“This is hopeless,” Britt said as she leaned on her bow and gloomily stared at the target she was supposed to be aiming at.

Sir Kay smoothed the corners of his mustache as he thoughtfully stared at Britt’s arrows. All of them were ringed around the outside of the target, a feat that would normally be praised if it weren’t for the fact that they were less than a stone’s throw from it.

Britt itched her right eyebrow. “Why did Merlin want me to even
try
archery? I thought our goal was to make me into a passable knight so I could joust should there be a demand for it?”

“That is the goal, but Merlin was hoping you would prove to be as natural with a bow as you are with a sword,” Sir Kay said, retrieving the arrows.

“I’m not a natural with the sword, I worked hard to get to the level I’m at and I started when I was appallingly young,” Britt said, crouching down to pet Cavall.

Sir Kay grunted in approval as he placed the arrows in a quiver. “Try again,” he advised.

“I’m getting worse the longer we practice. Why doesn’t Merlin just tell Morgause to stuff it and go home if she wants a hunting party?”

Sir Kay thoughtfully looked at the sky. “I think he’s hoping to use her.”

“For what purpose? A hostage?”

Sir Kay shook his head. “Character development.”

“Character development? What, are we in some time period romance now? Forget character development, the woman is a cougar in all meanings of the word.”

“My Lord?” someone shouted.

Britt whipped around and watched Gawain and Agravain ride up on their horses. Gaheris and Gareth followed in their wake on ponies.

“Hello men, enjoying an afternoon ride?” Britt asked, smiling for the boys’ sake.

Gawain pulled his horse to a halt near Britt and Sir Kay. “Yes, My Lord,” he said.

“We were looking for you!” Gaheris excitedly said, bouncing in the saddle as his pony trotted towards Britt.

“Gaheris,” Agravain groaned.

“What?” Gaheris asked.

“Merlin told us where you went,” Gareth said, clambering off his pony’s back.

Both Gawain and Agravain blushed as Gareth and Gaheris threw themselves at Britt and then at Cavall.

“I apologize, My Lord. Their manners aren’t what they should be,” Gawain said, the tips of his ears turned red as he dismounted and bowed to Britt.

Britt laughed. “They’re children. It’s a joy to see their enthusiasm,” she said, watching the boys cuddle her long suffering mastiff.

“Merlin said you were practicing archery,” Agravain said.

“We were,” Britt confirmed, turning to Sir Kay.

Sir Kay gravely bowed. “We have since finished.”

Britt smiled in thanks to her seneschal and retrieved Roen from the patch of clover he was grazing in. “Would you like to ride together for a bit?”

“Yes!” Gaheris and Gareth shouted as they hurried back to their ponies.

“If it would please you, My Lord,” Gawain said.

“Sir Kay, will you join us?” Britt asked as she swung onto Roen’s back.

Sir Kay was frowning. “I have work to complete, and your guards should accompany you.”

“We’ll stay in sight of the castle. Besides, if you come with I have no need for guards. Please?” Britt asked.

Sir Kay sighed, his shoulders heaving. “Very well.”

Britt shot Sir Kay her brightest smile. “Thank you, Sir Kay,” she said before whistling. “Cavall come. Who would like to lead the way? Agravain?”

Britt leaned against the battlements in Camelot’s walls as she stared at the night sky. An owl hooted, and Britt could hear the crickets chirp in the fields outside the castle. All the lights were out in the commoners’ area of Camelot and in the farm houses built just outside the walls, but the moon was bright and Britt could see quite clearly in the darkness.

“Milord.”

Britt turned to face the guard that spoke.

He stood with another guard, Gawain was wedged between them. They had their spears crossed in front of him as the guard spoke. “We found him on the stairwell, watching.”

“It’s fine, you may release him,” Britt said. “Gawain, what has you up at this late hour?” she asked, beckoning to the young man.

“Someone said you hardly get any sleep at night since you stand on the walls of Camelot most of the time. I was wondering if it was true,” the young man said.

Britt kept an acidic smile off her face—she was willing to bet money it was his mother who said that after one of Britt’s knight’s squealed about it.

“It is,” Britt said, turning to look at the countryside.

“Why do you stand watch?”

“I’m not standing watch so much as I am…remembering.”

“Remembering what, My Lord?” Gawain curiously asked as he rested his weight on the castle wall.

“Those who I loved and will never see again. Everyone I lost and so desperately wish I could see just one more time,” Britt said, unable to keep the wistfulness out of her voice as she recalled her mother, sister, and friends. When she turned to look at Gawain the young man held a look of such distress Britt changed the topic. “Or sometimes I dwell on the past week’s activities. Like tonight.”

“What activity?”

“Mmm, my meeting with King Pellinore. Now there is a man who looks like a true king,” Britt dryly said with a touch of jealousy. “He stands like a mountain and nobility and respect practically drip off him. I was wondering how he does it.”

“You very much look like a true king as well, My Lord.”

When Britt turned her disbelieving eyes on the Orkney prince, he protested. “It’s true!”

Britt chuckled. “While I appreciate the sentiments I must disagree with you. I might be tall and a good swordsmen, but physically speaking I am not impressive. I don’t have that air around me most nobility of this time has, and I don’t seem to command respect. If I did…,” she trailed off. She could hardly tell Gawain that if she did his mother wouldn’t be able to sink her claws into the knights of Camelot.

“You’re wrong,” Gawain said with a fierceness that surprised Britt. “You look and act more like a true king than even my father. That air you’re talking about is nothing but snobbery—thinking everyone is beneath you and that you are of higher worth. You listen carefully to everyone, and you treat people with respect—even if they don’t deserve it. You make simple tasks seem grand, and no one is too high or low to escape your notice. If it’s looks you’re concerned about you needn’t worry. Mother’s half jealous because everyone as far as Orkney says King Arthur is the most beautiful being in all of Britain. Besides, you, you can make the world shake with your smile,” Gawain finished, his last sentence was little more than an embarrassed squeak.

Britt was touched by the prince’s outbreak, although he was clearly flustered with himself and stared at the ground. Britt reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Gawain,” she said, waiting until she held his gaze. “Thank you.”

Gawain slumped to the ground in a kneel, as if Britt had shot him.

“My Lord, I have a boon to ask.”

“Yes?”


Please
let me stay here in Camelot and serve you. I will abdicate my claim to my father’s throne—I will cut all ties with my family and consider myself an orphan. I can serve as your shield bearer or, or a kennel master.
Please
let me stay with you.”

Britt stared at Gawain, trying to keep her shock from showing. She thought it would take years to win Gawain over her to side to become one of Camelot’s knights. She wasn’t expecting a declaration of loyalty and a plea to remain at her side. Besides, it seemed unlikely that Morgause—the ultimate home wrecker—was unable to keep her own children’s loyalty.

“Why do you want to stay?” Britt asked. “You could be a king, Gawain. There is no need for you to serve me when you have your own kingdom.”

“Because I have eyes in my head, My Lord,” Gawain fiercely said. “Even if your knights are blind fools, I see who you are, and I would give my life to follow you,” he said, flushing so deep the color was apparent in the moonlight and crawled all the way down his neck before disappearing in the collar of his cloak.

Gawain looked up imploringly at Britt, like he thought he might have gone too far. Britt flashed him a smile. “I would gladly receive you in my courts, Gawain.”

“Thank you, My Lord!” Gawain reached for her hands and kissed them.

It took a lot of control to keep Britt from wiping her hands off on her tunic. “But,” she said. “I think you should wait to make your decision to stay with me until your mother is ready to leave. A lot can happen in a few days, and something might change your mind.”

“Mother isn’t going to change my mind,” Gawain bluntly said. “Her
arts
don’t work on me.”

Britt laughed before she gave Gawain a hand up. “You are such fun. Thank you for seeking me out tonight, Gawain.”

Gawain offered Britt a steep bow. “Thank
you
, My Lord.”

“I have noticed that your banquet diet consists mostly of wine, and that you appear to hold your cup with the intension of crushing it,” Merlin said, awkwardly standing behind Britt as he whispered in her ear. His breath tickled her neck, and it felt uncomfortably intimate.

“That’s because if I keep a stranglehold on my cup I won’t be able to
throttle
a certain woman,” Britt said behind a smile. “Back up, will you?”

Once again Britt was a prisoner to her table on the dais, and once again it was Britt, Merlin, Morgause, and her children. Normally Britt would not mind the dinner so much. The past few had been quite passable as Britt was able to converse with Gawain, Agravain, Gareth, and Gaheris when Morgause was not fawning over her.

Tonight, however, the shape of the table had changed, and Britt found herself separated from Morgause’s sons. Merlin was next to her but he was a useless tablemate as usual.

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