Page 31 of The White Knight

“Okay, let’s eat this pizza before it gets cold.”

I yawn quietly, looking down at my son’s sleeping face resting peacefully on Lance’s lap. We have been talking for hours, the three of us. Telling stories of our pasts. Lance had given us a heroic account of how he had saved a woman and her little daughter from being enslaved by barbarians. Galahad listened with eyes and mouth wide open in awe.

My stories are nothing like these epic tales of Lance’s life and journey back home. Stories of me camping and hiking in the woods with my modern technology in the twenty-first century had put Galahad to sleep. Lance encourages me to finish my story of the time my mom and I crossed paths with a bear aftera long hike. As he gently strokes the gingery brown hair on Galahad’s brow, I continue.

“As we entered the parking lot—a field to park cars which are like coaches—my mom looked down into her backpack for the keys to our car. I was walking behind her when she stopped suddenly, a hair’s breadth away from a big black bear. In the dimming light of the setting sun, the bear looked like a massive shadow. I was paralyzed. Then, all of a sudden, a car alarm went off. Mom squeezed the keys in her hand, which set off the panic button. Lucky move because the sound spooked the bear, and it ran off into the woods. If mom didn’t accidentally set off the alarm, the bear would have killed us.”

“What did the bear look like?” Lance asks, his face just like Galahad’s look of awe. Eyes and mouth wide open.

“Umm, so this one was at least six feet tall. Dark fur. A big black nose. Round ears on top of its round head. Its paws were rather small, and maybe the fear in my eyes made the claws look larger than they actually were. Bears aren’t actually that scary, but in that moment, with a black bear towering over us, it looked like a demon.”

“I think perhaps I had come across the same demon during my travels. The folk called it an Otso. And what is this alarm? Is it some sort of bell or a horn? How does it work?”

“Horn is an appropriate description of a car alarm. It’s a very loud horn. Car keys usually have buttons, uhhh something you push, that automatically unlock the doors and turn on these alarms.”

Lance stares at me with a blank face, unable to conjure these images in his mind. I can imagine he is struggling the same way I do when I read a sci-fi novel. Well, when I used to read them. There are none here in the sixth century.

A second later, Lance’s face melts into concern. “I hate the thought of you being attacked by such a beast. If your motherhad not pushed that button, I cannot even think of a world without you in it. I will not. Eight years not knowing if I would ever see you again nearly made me lose my mind.”

A hand reaches out, lightly caressing my cheek as another tear slides out of my eyes. We lean in instinctively, our lips brushing ever so lightly. Below our heads, Galahad sighs, still deep asleep. The sound brings us back to reality, where we are not allowed to touch in such a way.

“I will put him to bed,” Lance whispers. “Will you stay?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Just to talk, only talk.”

I nod and sit back on the couch I’ve been lounging on as Lance hoists Galahad up. We nearly kissed. My insides are churning, yearning for more than a brush of his lips on mine. I shouldn’t stay. Being alone with Lance in our home, in a place where we made love, where we were free to be in love, is too much. I don’t trust myself to keep my hands off Lance.

My body doesn’t move even though my brain is shouting to leave. My heart pounds loudly in my ears, drowning out the logic my mind is screaming. I am at war with myself. No matter what I do, I will lose.

Somehow, I find the strength to stand up and walk to the door. Before I can make my escape, Lance waltzes back into the room, nearly throwing me to the floor. His reflexes are sharp and in an instant, he holds me tight against his chest. The first time he caught me like this, I melted into him, helpless. I am just as powerless now as I was then.

“I am sorry, Guin,” Lance tickles my ear with his whisper. Pulling us upright, he keeps hold of me, steadying my core. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Well, no. I don’t know, Lance. What are we doing? Nearly kissing. Now you are holding me against you. I feel helpless.”

Lance lets go of me abruptly, turns and walks to the chair by the fire. Releasing his weight, he falls down loudly, head in his hands. “I apologize, Guin. This is all so…every piece of me yearns to hold you, kiss you, love you. You are mine in every way, yet I cannot have you. It is tearing my soul apart.”

“I know that feeling well, my love.” It takes all my strength to remain at the door when all I want to do is run to him. “I will go. Goodnight, Lance.”

“How long will this last?” Lance looks up, locking his eyes with mine, pleading.

“I don’t know. Until one of us dies, perhaps.”

“I cannot accept this fate.”

“If you would like me to leave your castle, I will make arrangements first—”

“That is not what I want. I want my wife. I want to take her in my arms and paint her with kisses. I want to lick every sensitive part of her body. I want to reclaim her soul. I want to burrow inside her. I want—”

In three quick strides, I am kneeling in front of Lance, cradling his heavy head in my hands. “I am yours, Lance. All of me. Every cell of my body, every thought inside my head. My skin craves your touch. All I want is to give in.”

“What will happen if we do?”

“Nothing, right away. But if the kingdom finds out, if Mordred finds out, it will get ugly. The kingdom might have accepted Galahad as their prince, even with the doubt spreading around thanks to Mordred. Still, they will not accept that their queen has been unfaithful.”

“But I am your husband. What does that mean?”