Page 44 of The White Knight

“Mmmm. And what am I doing?”

“The same thing I am, except your hands are much warmer than mine. So I imagine them on me, filling me with warmth.” I dip a finger inside, touching the sensitive part that makes my body lift off the bed instinctively.

“How does it feel? My imaginary finger inside you.”

“Oh,” I moan. “Does that answer your question?”

Lance leans down to kiss me, slipping his tongue in my mouth. He doesn’t touch me with his hands though. Those hands I so desperately need on me. “Do you ever pleasure yourself?” I ask against his lips.

His mouth quickly leaves mine. Ocean eyes swimming with the flames of embers in the dying fire from my hearth look down at me. There is so much love in those eyes. But also pain,loneliness, desperation. “I spent many nights in the wilderness lying awake thinking of you.”

“Let us not waste a moment touching ourselves, then. Touch me, Lance. Let me touch you.”

A month before guests are due to arrive, it is utter chaos at Camelot. Everyone is running around making preparations for the games, banquets, and accommodations. I’ve been tasked with organizing the entertainment, something I begged Arthur to let me have. I’m still putting together the silly weaving contest, but I needed something more. Something I actually want to do. This will be the biggest event Camelot has ever hosted. There needs to be good music.

Galahad sits by my side with his guitar, helping me teach a group of musicians a few songs. Like with swords, language, and apparently magic, Galahad picked up the art of music quickly and effortlessly. He’s not yet shared his musical talents with the court though. During the opening banquet, he will debut this hidden skill with me and the rest of the musicians who’ve traveled here from all over the world.

It’s been ages since I’ve performed for the court. I’m a little nervous at the thought of so many strangers watching me sing and play. But I’ll have my son by my side and a group of merry musicians around me. They’ve already proved to be exceptional. Some of them brought instruments I’ve never seen before. The tricky part is teaching them how to sing songs they’ve never heard. It’s not like I can just whip out my phone and let them listen to my Spotify playlist.

I hum the melody of “A Million Dreams” for Adair, who plays a large fiddle-like string instrument. He’s a tall man with delicatefingers and matches the tune perfectly. When he is confident enough with playing the melody, I jump in with my lute, and Galahad sings. It takes me a while to find my bearing with the proper cords, but we get there halfway through our first run-through of the song and it’s just fucking beautiful.

“Promise me you will compose some cheery songs, your Highness.” Gawain approaches us with a big smile on his face. “These melancholy songs of yours are lovely. However, they are dreadfully depressing.”

I smack Gawain playfully on the arm. “Oh, shut it. I know you enjoy a good cry. But I promise that most of the songs are joyful and fitting for the celebration.”

“I helped mother pick the songs, Sir Gawain. I can vouch that there will not just be sad ballads for the festivities.” Galahad is all smiles. “Would you like to hear one?”

“Of course, my little prince.” Gawain rustles the rose gold hair on Galahad’s head, then takes a seat on the bench closest to our trio.

“Mom, shall we sing ‘Touch the Sky’?”

I turn to Adair and another fiddle player. “Do you think you can play that one with us to give Sir Gawain a preview?”

“Is it the one that goes like this?” Adair begins to play ‘Touch the Sky’ exactly as I remember it.

“Yup! That’s the one. Galahad, do you want to play the guitar on this one?”

“Yes, mother. You should sing it.”

I smile at my son as he plays, cueing in the fiddles and a drummer. Galahad radiates a soft white light when he plays, something I know I had done when Excalibur lived inside me. Pure happiness causes the glow. My heart swells knowing that music brings my son joy just as it does to me. As it did for my mother.

His energy flows into me as I sing, my eyes never leaving his face. Galahad remains focused on his fingers. This is quite a fast-paced song and though he’s talented with guitar, he is being extra cautious with his cords and strums. I’m so fucking proud of him. Not just because he’s a skilled musician. But that he gives everything he has to what he is doing in every moment. When he plays music, that is his life. When he is practicing swords, that is his life.

Though I rarely get to witness his lessons with Merlin, I know magic is his life too. After the incident at the lake, Merlin has been more open with us about what Galahad is capable of. It’s terrifying, but I know Galahad can handle it. I draw the line at time travel though. He might have successfully transported us two weeks to the past, but time travel is not something so easily achieved. The magic is unknown and unpredictable. I cannot lose him.

Gawain breaks out in applause as we finish our preview. “More of that, please and thank you. It has been ages since Camelot has felt pure joy, my queen. I am looking forward to hearing more of your songs. We all are.” He takes my hand in his and places a soft kiss on my knuckles.

I swat at him. “Now off with you. We must get back to rehearsal.”

“I came with a purpose. Sword practice.” Gawain turns to Galahad. “Sir Lancelot is waiting for you.”

“Is it time already?” Galahad looks out the tall windows on the side of the hall, showing that the sun is beginning its descent into the late afternoon. “Sorry, mom.”

“That’s okay, love. I didn’t realize it was that late either. The kitchen staff will want to prepare the hall for supper anyway. We’ll resume rehearsal tomorrow afternoon and have archery in the morning after your lessons with Merlin.”

Galahad kisses my cheek after placing his guitar on the table we had set up shop on, then walks away with purpose. Gawain stays behind. He must have an update from our spies. I dismiss the musicians, who bow in farewell, taking their instruments with them as they depart.

“What news do you have?” I ask Gawain as we fall in step with each other toward the back entrance of the great hall, where we are less likely to run into others.

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