Page 28 of The White Knight

Though I have also forgiven Elaine, I can feel myself more guarded around her. I want my friend back and I desperately want my husband back. Either of them. Both of them. For months, I have felt like I’ve retreated to that hollow shell of a person I was when Lance was taken from me, before Galahad was born.

Arthur has been busy with the archbishop now that he is back at Camelot. That is when his excellency has seen fit to grant Arthur the time of day. When not speaking with his councilors, Arthur is in the throne room meeting with his subjects, training with his knights, or meeting with allies to persuade them to join his cause. Even Mordred keeps his distance from me so much that I am missing our quarrels. That is how alone I feel at this very moment. How alone I have felt since my son has left Camelot. Since the return of my love over a year ago.

But I cannot let anyone see my weakness. Especially Mordred. In public, I am the queen Arthur needs me to be. Regal. Polite. Kind-hearted. Charitable. Even god-damned pious. I attend mass and go through the motions of the silly ceremonies that are all for show. I do it for Arthur. I do it because the archbishop is here, and he needs to see what a good little queen I am.

Everything I do is for Arthur and his kingdom. This is what I signed up for when I became his queen. I knew my life would not be mine. When Lance came back into my life, I knew I could not be his wife again. It feels impossible, yet I still wish to have his arms around me, to kiss him, to feel him inside me. Such selfish thoughts when I think of Arthur. He has been nothing but a wonderful husband to me. Though I miss his touch, I do not crave it as I do Lance’s.

I made a vow to myself that I would not touch either of my husbands until a solution to our predicament is made. Or until one of them gives up. Gives me up. But neither of them will let me go, and I don’t want them to. I want to be a wife to both. I love them both. Selfish. That’s what I am. I should be happy enough to have Arthur as my husband. To be his queen. I’m not though. On the other hand, I can’t imagine ever leaving him. I also can’t imagine keeping my hands off of Lance for the rest of our lives. I’m drawn to him. He is the other part of my soul.

The servant leaves after tending to the fire. Its flames dance to a melody, a sad ballad tormenting my heart. Tears break from the weak barrier of my eyes, and now I am crying, sobbing as my grief awakens inside me again. I have been able to reign in my sadness most days, but when I am alone, it is impossible to control.

The door to the royal apartments open, but I ignore the person who opened it thinking it is just another servant. I hide my face inside the book I borrowed from Arthur’s study, pretending to read the words. “Why are you not in the great hall for supper?” Arthur—not a servant—asks. He drops down beside me on the bench when he sees my wet face. “My dear wife, what has happened? Was it Mordred again?”

“No. That bastard doesn’t bring tears of sadness to my eyes. Just the urge to break his nose.” Arthur laughs with me, drying my tears with his thumbs. The touch is oddly satisfying. I don’t want him to stop. When he releases my now dry face, I drop my head to his shoulder.

“Why were you crying?”

“I’m tired.”

“No. Tell me, Guinevere. Why were you crying?”

“I am tired, Arthur,” I repeat. “Tired of waiting. Tired of wanting. Tired of putting on this heavy mask every day. Tired of missing my son. Tired of being scared. Tired.”

Arthur wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me tighter against his body. His lips push against my hair before he speaks. “I am tired too, Guinevere. I promised you I would set things right. And I will.”

“I can’t stay in this limbo for much longer, Arthur. It is drowning me.”

“I see that now. I am sorry for letting this drag on.”

“This is not your fault, Arthur. You know that, right?” I push myself up to look into his eyes. “Right?”

“But it is. I was selfish. I wanted you to be my wife and queen. I needed it for Camelot. For the realm to see my strength. Though I had my doubts, especially after you confided in me about where you came from and the legend of my reign, I still wanted you. I should have known that your love would come at a price.”

“What price is that?” My voice trembles, afraid to hear his answer.

“A price I am not willing to pay.” Arthur gently caresses my cheek and I nearly cave to his touch. Sensing my thoughts, he pulls his hand away. “I am working on a solution. One I have not discussed with any of my councilors. Give me time to work it through in my mind. I would like to discuss my idea with both you and Lancelot. Can you wait that long?”

I take his hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I can wait as long as you need me to. I can’t say I’ll be sane at the end of it all.”

Arthur’s smile reaches his eyes, showing me a rare moment of unfiltered emotion. After nearly a decade of being in each other’s lives, Arthur has only given me this smile two other times. When he held Galahad for the first time and when he reached for my hand on our wedding day. This smile breaks my heart into a thousand pieces. How could I ever leave him? How could I deny Lance? They will tear me apart no matter what I choose or what Arthur chooses for us. Once again, I have no idea how my story will play out. But as long as Arthur gives me that smile of his, I will keep playing my part. And I will do so by his side.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“Yes, but I really don’t want to be around people right now.”

“I will have a plate sent up for you then.” Arthur stands up to leave. I stop him, pulling him back down beside me.

“Make it two plates. Let’s dine together in private. It’s been ages since we’ve had an evening, just the two of us.”

“I thought you did not want to be around people.”

“You aren’t people, Arthur. You are my husband. This whole thing might be complicated as fuck, but you are still my husband.”

Arthur places a gentle kiss on my forehead before standing up again. “As you wish. I will have two plates sent up.”

Chapter 18

Lancelot

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