Page 40 of To Love a Dark Lord

“Thorn. She’d asked me to join her army. I refused, obviously. And when we got to the city, it…it was destroyed. So many people were just caught in the crossfire. So many bodies.” She leaned her head back against his chest, her eyes shut. “And why? Why? Because Thorn had a spitting match with some other elemental. I keep thinking—maybe if I’d said yes to her. Maybe if I’d gone with her, I could have stopped her. And then all those people…”

“No.” He tightened his arm around her slightly. “You would have been forced to stand between her and them. You were right to refuse her. Their deaths are not your doing.”

“Well. I mean. It kinda is—” She gestured aimlessly in the air in front of her. “Because Thorn wouldn’t be loose if I hadn’t tried to blow up the Crystal, which pissed you off so badly you blew up the?—”

“I get it. I get it.” He rolled his eyes. But he could not hide his smile. “Yes. All the blame for every terrible turn of events that befalls Avalon from this point forward will be entirely yours.”

“See? Exactly. Thanks for agreeing with me.” A smile also graced her face. He knew she would be distraught at the deeds he was set upon performing. But in this moment, it seemed she shared in his happiness.

They were together.

And for this tiny respite, there was quiet.

A quiet that would be ruined the moment he set foot inside his home. He grimaced. “Why villagers? You do realize how poorly they will do in battle, do you not?”

Gwendolyn laughed. “You’re a little elitist, aren’t you, prince?”

“With good reason, princess.” He teased her back. “Though now that you are a witch, I suppose you are no longer a princess.”

“Lame.” She huffed in false offense. “Do witches get cool titles?”

“Yes. Witch.”

“I should get a black pointy hat and some green face paint,” she murmured as she looked off into the woods. He did not bother to ask what she meant; he knew it would make little sense even after she attempted to explain it.

A thought occurred to him. “How did you manage to bring my stallion to Camelot?”

“He brought himself to Camelot,” she snapped, glowering down at the iron horse. His steed snorted in response. The feeling was mutual. “I let the little shit out because I felt bad for him, all cooped up in his stable, and he took the fuck off. It wasn’t until I got to Camelot that I saw him. He knew the whole damn time.”

“Maybe if you were nicer to him,” he teased. It had nothing to do with it. No one was kinder to animals than Gwendolyn Wright.

“He doesn’t want nice. He likes assholes.” She jabbed him in the thigh between the plates of his armor. “Some people like assholes.”

“Hm. Careful.” He kissed her temple. “There is a phrase about throwing stones…”

“Yeah, yeah.” She turned her attention back to the road ahead of them. They went along in comfortable silence for quite some time. Nothing but wilderness surrounded them, the sun streaming through the branches of the trees. Autumn leaves drifted down about them. Birds sang, and the long grass rustled with creatures seeking to bury their winter stores.

This—this was bliss. This was happiness. This was peace.

This was what he would fight to keep.

“So,” he began.

“Yes, I have an army, get over it.” She laughed. “You’re not the only one who can have one, y’know.”

“That was not what I was going to clarify but thank you for reminding me of how ludicrous this situation is.” He dug his claws into her thigh, just a little. Just enough. She squirmed in her seat. “What I was going to ask you, firefly, is what you intend to do with said army?”

Her silence spoke volumes. It took her nearly a minute to respond. She was getting better at predicting their verbal sparring matches and was clearly trying to find a way to navigate around this one. “I intend to stop the elementals.”

“How?” He could not help but needle her playfully again. “Through petition?”

“Mordred.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Forgive me. I am in a good mood. I cannot help but tug on your hair like a young bully.”

“At least you admit it.” She leaned back against him. “No, I know what I’m trying to do. I know what’s going to happen.”

“Then what separates you and I?”

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