Page 22 of The White Enchantress

Lancelot doesn’t respond, only nods his head. I hope that he believes my fantastical story. “That would explain your otherworldliness.”

“Otherworldiness?” I ask, unsure what he means by this statement.

“The way you speak, your accent. Cumbric was not your first language. And the way you hold yourself. You are noble yet wild.” A crooked smile forms on his face. I want to wipe it off with a kiss. But his words are distracting.

“Cumbric?” Again with a one-worded question.

“Yes, that is the language you are speaking.”

“I’m speaking Cumbric?”

“Yes.”

“And you are speaking Cumbric to me?”

“Yes.” Lancelot’s smile disappears in place of concern. His brows tightly furrowed.

“How do I know a language I’ve never learned?” I ask myself, but I say the words aloud, causing Lancelot to scratch his head in confusion.Great, I wanted to avoid looking crazy.

Excalibur sends a warm jolt of energy through me. I’m not sure if she spoke words or if I could just understand what she wanted to say. It happened earlier too. This mystical sword is impossible. It saved my life from the depths of a lake that appeared out ofnowhere. Follows me around like a lost puppy. And has given me the ability to speak a language I didn’t even know existed.

I shake my head, unable to grasp my new reality. “Anyway, I’m starving. Let’s go eat.” I walk into the dining hall, not looking back to see if Lancelot follows me in.

As I make my way to an empty bench at one of the long tables, I wonder what he is thinking.Does he think I’m strange?I know I don’t fit in here. Even my made-up story makes me seem outlandish and unusual. The daughter of a Roman soldier and a Pict…an impossible match. Just as Lancelot and I are.

There are so many alternative stories written about Guinevere, but I can’t remember a single one with a happy ending. Still, maybe I can create my own story, forge my own path. Excalibur chose me, and she seems to like Lancelot. That has to mean something.

And Arthur is far away in Camelot. I might never meet him. What if Lancelot was Guinevere’s husband, then when Arthur finds out about Excalibur, he kidnaps her and takes her for his own bride? In the legends, Guinevere gets abducted, but there are so many different variations of who the abductor was…is…will be.I don’t even know what tense to use anymore.But what if it is King Arthur? That would be quite the plot twist.

But I don’t want any of this, no matter how the story ends. I want my life back, the one I had in the twenty-first century. I miss Josh more than anything. And I want the chance to take our friendship to the next level. I want to fall in love with Josh, not Lancelot, Arthur, or anyone else who might try to take my love from me.

Chapter 11

Lancelot

As soon as weenter the dining hall, I sense a shift in Guinevere’s mood. She had been lively just a minute ago. Even after singing such a melancholy song and divulging the story of her mother and father, she seemed full of spirit. It is difficult to believe that a Roman and Pict would even have a chance to fall in love. But Guinevere is living proof that love has the power to overcome unconditional hate.

My heart breaks for her, making me feel a mix of emotions I am unsure how to handle. Anger that Guinevere’s heart belongs to another. Happiness that the man who held her heart is no longer walking this earth. Guilt that I am optimistic about her loss. I remind myself that she is not mine and will never be mine. Still, my heart aches to hold hers and my soul howls with want to be one with her.

Watching Guinevere on the steps of the temple, a lute against her chest as she gently stroked its strings, I could not help but stare at her fingertips and wonder how they would feel against my skin. Iwould love nothing more than for her to whisper an intimate love melody in my ear. But I also felt hope. As Guinevere played her lute, Excalibur glowed as bright as the sun.

I take a seat next to Guinevere. Looking down at the sword now lying on the dining table, I can still see the dim glow within, and I know it is Guinevere who has sparked this magic to life. Guinevere must truly be who Vivienne claims her to be.

I am cautious not to cut my hand on Excalibur’s blade as I pull a plate toward myself. Guinevere notices my caution, looking up at me with a smile as I grab a small loaf of bread and rip it in two pieces. I hand one to her, which she takes, her smile remaining in place.

“Don’t worry, she won’t bite.” Guinevere looks down at Excalibur, a subtle laugh escaping her lips. “I would have left her in my room, but it’s much more shocking when she appears out of thin air.”

“Excalibur is a she? And it truly does follow you everywhere?” She nods, stuffing the piece of warm crusty bread into her mouth. “When you had run away earlier, leaving Excalibur behind, I went after you. And when I returned to the lake, it…she was gone. I remember feeling cold without it.”

“That could have been because you weren’t wearing a shirt,” she smirks into a spoonful of mutton stew.

“I do truly apologize for upsetting you earlier and disturbing your peace.”

“No need for an apology. You did nothing wrong.”

“I am glad to hear I was not the cause of your sorrow.”

I notice a side glance from Guinevere toward the priestesses sitting at the table. It is obvious that she feels uncomfortable all of a sudden. Perhaps the mere existence of our bodies sitting close together in the dining hall has caused some kind of inner tension among everyone. I can feel it, growing stronger within me. Even though I should keep my distance from Guinevere, I find myself drawing closer to her and her to me. Not just physically but something else. I do not know how to describe it.

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