Page 13 of The White Knight

“That dragon nearlydideat me.”

“He also said he would not have a son if it weren’t for you.”

The way this boy talks reminds me of Guin. I am unsure of some words he uses, but I understand him well enough. Though I am completely lost with his last statement.

“Galahad, I need you to do me two favors. Give Sir Lancelot the biggest hug you can. Then I want you to find your father and tell him who our guest of honor is. It is of utmost importance that you tell this only to your father. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mother.”

My eyes shoot to Guin. Hers, avoiding mine with fierce determination. Galahad leaps into my arms, melting my heart with his warmth. A warmth I have missed. A warmth that once belonged to his mother.

“Before I go, I just wanted to say that Cousin Mordred is being a piece of shit again. Though I didn’t say that to his face like last time because you said it was not nice to say to someone, even if they really are being a piece of shit.”

Guin and I chuckle together. This child of hers is so much like her. Even though Galahad steals my soul with every second he remains in my presence, I cannot shake the coldness consuming my heart. Who is his father?

“What was Mordred doing?” Guin asks.

“Just talking bullshit while I was practicing with my new sword.”

“We will talk about this later, my love. Now give me a kiss. Remember to only speak to your father.”

The boy gently pecks Guin on the lips, then hurries off in search of his father. With my eyes, I follow his boyish gait as he disappears through the trees. Once he is gone, I turn back to Guin. The both of us are still kneeling on the ground. Before I can organize my thoughts into words, Guin stands up, offering me her hand. “We have a lot to talk about, and you desperately need a hot bath.”

“A hot bath can wait. Guin, that boy…your son—“

“Our son.” Guin’s eyes bear into mine, begging me to see the truth in hers. “Let’s talk inside, please, Lance.”

Pulling at my hand, I let her guide me through the garden to a secret doorway at the back of the keep. Questions swarm in my mind once inside the damp and narrow passage. It is nearly pitch black, as there are no windows, though Guin seems to know exactly where to step. I wonder how she knows of this passage. The biggest question I need an answer to is who does Galahad believe is his father? My mind is reeling with possible answers.

We finally approach a set of small stone doors. Choosing the one on the right, Guin lays her hands on the cold stone, searching for something. A moment later, the door opens to a sunny bedroom.

“Stay here. I will be right back.” As I am about to argue against staying in what feels like a dungeon, a pair of soft lips meets mine. “I will tell you everything. Just stay here, please.”

Though I had not yet entered the room, what I glance is none other than one of the royal bedrooms in Arthur’s private apartments. Guin and I have not spoken about it yet, but I am putting the pieces together in my mind. Galahad is my son, yet he is also the prince of Camelot. The prince who recently celebrated his seventh birthday. That can only mean that Guinevere married Arthur. The legend has come true, just as Guin predicted.

What does this mean for us? For Guin was my wife. She is my wife. If she told me the truth about Galahad, we have a son together. I want to shout my anger up into the heavens and punch the walls down with my fists. Guin is no longer mine. The son I did not know I had will never be mine.

As tears fall down my cheeks, a sharp, violent pain explodes in my chest. I should have never left Guin. I should have stayed with her at Joyous Gard. We would be a happy family of three. Perhaps we would have filled our castle with more children. Arthur would have been upset, but he would have understood my request to stay with my new wife.

The stone door opens, flooding my teary eyes with light. Guin looks like an angel on fire, her red hair glowing. “Oh, Lance. Come here.”

I melt into her chest and cry. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I want to take her here and now. I want to stake my claim on what is mine. For Guin is mine. Forever and always.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lance,” Guin whispers in my ear. But she does not attempt to peel me from her body. “I’m so sorry, Lance. I should have waited for you. I gave up hope you were still—“

“I am the one who left you, Guin. This is all my fault.”

“I had just realized I was pregnant when Arthur arrived at Joyous Gard with the news of your death. All the knights who had traveled with you were dead, injured, or swore they saw your body get torn to pieces. Arthur wouldn’t tell me the details until years later.”

Loosening my grip, I push Guin away from me so that I can look into her eyes. “I gave up hope so many times. There was a moment I wanted to throw myself off a cliff. I was hungry, alone, cold, everything hurt.”

“Lance, I really don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m so happy you found your way back. I love you so much, Lance. That I never gave up on.”

Slowly, Guin unties the strings on my shirt and pants. There is nothing sensual about it. Guin needs to take care of me. She needs to inspect me and make sure I am intact. I let her.

“You have so many scars, Lance. What happened to you?”

“A great many things, Guin. I will tell you about them all if you wish.”

---