Page 7 of To Love a Dark Lord

“I disagree with both your insistence that Avalon requires a monarch as well as your self-serving goal to become it.” Galahad shook his head. “I shall not support you in this blatant grab for power in Mordred’s absence.”

“Would you doom this world to more infighting and chaos? To repeat itself, endlessly, as we have always done? No. Mordred was right in one thing—this world needs someone to guide it.” Thorn squared her shoulders.

Galahad could not help but arch an eyebrow. “And you believe yourself to be that person. I cannot agree. No, Thorn—my answer remains as it was.”

Thorn grimaced and spat on the ground at her feet. “And what of you, Gossamer Lady? Do you stand with your knight?”

“I…” Zoe sighed, her shoulders drooping. “Yes. I shall continue to be neutral—or shall strive to be.”

“There is no such thing in this world as being neutral, Zoe,” Thorn sneered. “Simply cowardice. If you attempt to stand against me, I will not hesitate to strike you down. And I will remember who my friends were when the time comes.”

“Noted.” Galahad disliked being threatened. “You have said your piece. Now, begone.”

“As you wish. Fools. Fools, the both of you.” Thorn turned her back on them as she walked into the woods. “Perhaps your brothers will see sense.”

Galahad doubted that Bors, Gawain, or Percival would throw their fates in with the elemental. But who was he to say? They were their own men—and now, after over a thousand years, finally allowed to make their own decisions. He would not interfere. It was not his place.

“Come, my love.” Zoe took his hand gently in hers. It was so small and soft compared to his own. Like a work of art. “Think on it no longer.”

Nodding, he followed her into her home. Oh, how he felt suddenly weary of it all. There was a tiredness that crept into his bones at the thought of what was to come. He had hoped, foolishly, that the elementals would value the freedom they had nearly lost forever. That perhaps they would learn.

Yet he knew Thorn was right. Chaos was inevitable. And from that chaos, an order would seek to impose itself.

He did not know who would win.

But he knew he wanted no part in it.

“You summoned me, my lady?”

Gwen snorted in laughter as Bert bowed dramatically, folding an arm in front of him with a flourish. “Knock that off,” she said.

Bert chuckled as he sat down at the table next to her. “I had to. Just because it clearly makes you so uncomfortable.”

“It’s just weird. And I’m not a lady. I’m just some girl from Kansas.” She shifted and folded a foot under herself before sitting back down. “So. Um.” Better to just rip off the bandage, she figured. “Walk me through what happens if we successfully free Mordred.” It wasn’t swaying her from her goal—not at all. But she wanted to know what was going to happen to her when she did.

Bert let out a rush of air. Which was entirely for show, seeing as he didn’t really breathe. Funny how much behavior was really just buried in social cues. “Oh, boy. Well. I don’t know for certain.”

“I know. But you’ve been here forever. You’ve seen things from not just an elemental-versus-elemental standpoint. You’re the source of the best advice I can get.”

Wonderful. A talking, metal-pumpkin-headed scarecrow was her most reliable source of information.

Fuck her life right about now, seriously.

Bert looked off into the distance as he thought it through. “First, the elementals will come for you. All of them. Unified in their hatred—and fear—of Mordred.” He paused as if afraid to say what was coming next.

“Go on.”

“And they might not be wrong.” Bert shook his head. “Mordred was ready to kill them all before being stuck in that Crystal. And who knows what his opinion will be when he comes out? Not to mention, a unified war against him will give him the excuse he needs to justify mass murder.”

Gwen considered his words. “There’s one difference, though. I can stop him. I can’t stop the elementals. He’ll listen to me—they won’t.”

Bert stared at her. He didn’t need to be able to show expression for her to sense the doubt in him. If he had eyebrows, one of them would probably be arched.

“I know it’s risky. You’re right, there’s no telling if he’ll come out of the Iron Crystal in one piece. But I can’t do this alone.” Doc was gone. Mordred was gone. Galahad was gone.

“You aren’t alone, Gwen. You have us.”

“A bunch of—I’m sorry—squishy villagers. And like, what? Fifty of you, so far? You’ll get destroyed. I don’t want all your deaths on my hands. I know people will die, that’s inevitable. But at least the elementals have a choice. They can stand down or they can attack us. If they stand down, we’ll leave them alone.” Gwen tried to sound confident. Mordred would have to listen to reason, she’d make sure of it. He was a rational man. He understood the cost of war and spending lives. He wouldn’t needlessly slaughter everyone.

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