Page 42 of To Love a Dark Lord

“If we wish to be spared his wrath, we best apologize, I suppose.” Zoe cringed. “Though I loathe to do it.”

“There is no bother. Gwendolyn understands and seems to hold you at no fault for attempting to stop her. Perhaps she is a bit embittered, but I would hardly say wrathful. She did spare your life, it seems.” He moved on to another bandage. It was clear Gwendolyn could have ended his wife’s life but instead chose to spare her.

The young woman would have made an excellent knight. Galahad was certain that Gwendolyn and Arthur would have gotten along famously. A little too well, perhaps. Pointless musings for another time. He broke the silence again. “She told me of your plans.”

Zoe’s hand tightened gently. “I—I should have spoken to you first, my love. Forgive me. But I fear I lacked conviction until the moment I fought her. I could not let her and Mordred or Thorn usurp that which is rightfully mine, as it was so long ago…”

Galahad rested his forehead against the part of her arm that was not wounded. He knew of her past as the Queen of Avalon. How the beautiful lady had appeared to them in the woods that night to present to Arthur not just the crown of the island, but her crown.

Because she knew she needed to. Because the isle had told her of the moment the true ruler of Avalon came to the shores from Earth.

It made the bitter twist of fate that followed all the worse, when Arthur was rejected and died a mortal man.

“Is it truly what you wish, my love?” He lifted his head again to watch her. “To become queen?”

Sadness creased her features as she shut her eyes. “No…I do not know.” She sought his hand with hers, holding it tight. “I wish to cease all this pointless suffering in Avalon. I wish to stop them all from killing each other. Thorn will burn this world down to rule a pile of ashes, same as the demon. And Mordred…would be even worse than that.”

“Gwendolyn is seeking to raise an army of the villagers.”

“And they march to the slaughter—you know that as well as I.” Zoe reached out, wrapping her arms around Galahad, pulling him into an embrace. “I simply wish for peace, my love.”

“I know.” He held her, gently stroking her back. “I know. But the only way to find it is through violence.”

“Perhaps.” She sat back. “Or perhaps there is another way. Yes, a few may need to die or be dealt with—but only those who rally the mobs. Would you not rather three souls meet their end in order to save three hundred?”

It was rare that his wife schemed. He watched her curiously. “I dislike weighing bargains with lives. I always have.”

“As do I. But in times like these, it can sometimes not be avoided.” Zoe stroked his cheek with her knuckles tenderly. “But I think there is a way to stop their war before it begins. I need your help.”

The weight of his years fell over him with those words. He was tired of it all—of the constant battling and strife. He had wished to stay here with the woman he loved, in peace and quiet. But they were being taken from him now by the very woman he wished to share them with.

Which made it all the worse.

What was he to do?

Zoe would not stop her quest even if he asked it of her. She was steadfast when it came to her duties to Avalon. And the resolution in her eyes was clear. She would retake the throne and see peace finally reign for all.

It was a beautiful vision. And he had never seen his Gossamer Lady rule. It must have been a thing of rare beauty, like the fae courts of Tir n’Aill.

He bowed his head. “My sword is now and forever yours, my lady.”

But there was nothing but dread in his heart.

FIFTEEN

“Ancients, spare me.”

Gwen tried not to laugh at Mordred’s dismayed mutter as they approached his keep, but she couldn’t suppress the snicker that escaped. Through the open gates she could see tents set up inside the main outer wall, and several dozen more set up on the field outside his home. Smoke from fires drifted up into the air from the makeshift army that had set up camp.

“It’ll be nice to have company. Maewenn is either ecstatic or pissed, and I can’t guess which.” Gwen smiled. “Come on, your home needed a little life in it.”

“The life I could put up with. It is the odor I am more concerned about.”

“Lighten up. It’ll be fine.” She smiled up at him, her expression turning into a grin at how dour he looked. “You’re going to just hide in your tower like the spooky bastard you are, anyway.”

“I am not going to hide.” He paused. His lips twitched as he fought his own smile. “I am going to brood.”

That got her to laugh again, and she faced forward toward the keep with a lingering smile. She knew this was going to get ugly, and soon. But for now, she had her friends and the man she loved. They rode in silence until they were a few hundred feet from the keep.

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