“Well, then, I would have to marry her.”

“Surely you would not force marriage upon her?” I do not mean to form this last statement as a question. I am unsure of Arthur’s intentions though.

“Whoa there. I was only jesting. Please know I would never do such a thing, Lancelot. What makes you think that?”

“Nothing, nothing…only my mother conveyed to me that Guinevere had hesitations about coming here. She was afraid of a marriage proposal.”

“From you or me? By the looks of it, you have already fallen for her, and she for you.”

I laugh loudly at that. “No, my king, I would not do such a thing. And she seems unaffected by me. It is only that…I admire her is all,” I lie. Knowing deep down that I could be in love with her. I silently vow never to show it unless she asks me to.

“Hmm. As you say,” Arthur replies, believing my lie, for now.

Chapter 16

Guinevere

Elaine is kind enoughto not only walk me to my room but also offer a hot bath to wash away the dirt and grime from my journey to Camelot. While she prepares my bath, my curiosity is peaked. Elaine is another name I know well from the Arthurian legends my mother would read to me. I don’t remember all the stories, all the little details. Still, I remember an Elaine who loved Lancelot and whose love was not reciprocated. I wonder if this Elaine is she.

She nearly pours the boiling water onto herself when I ask her if she is in love with Lancelot. Her answer is dry, deadpan even. “If there is a woman who has not fallen in love with the gallant White Knight after coming across his handsome visage, I would surely like to meet her. For such a feat is impossible. As I am certain you already know this.”

My blushing face gives me away. I don’t know what compelled me to speak. I had every intention of staying quiet. Yet my voice speaks on its own, saying, “Sir Lancelot will give his heart to onewoman, though they will never live a happy life together. A son will be born to him from another, a boy pure of heart to become a man whose bravery stands against those of the gods.” Elaine looks up at me, eyes wide with fear. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from. Must have read one too many fantasy novels in my youth.”

“Your bath is ready, my lady. Please do let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.” With that, Elaine runs off, leaving me and my crazy brain in silence. But inside, my brain is screaming at me. People already assume I am some kind of enchantress, a witch.

I am sure to be burned at the stake for speaking such ominous prophecies about the future. Though how truthful are these prophecies? I am only repeating what I’ve read from various stories about the characters in the Arthurian legends. But they are no longer characters to me. These are real, corporeal human beings.

And the plot has already begun to deviate from what I had known. Guinevere, the White Enchantress? She isn’t the one who finds Excalibur. And I am positive that Guinevere doesn’t meet Lancelot until after she is already married to Arthur. Guinevere’s potential backstories and family histories are not mine. There must be another Guinevere in the kingdom. She is the one destined to fall into a deadly love triangle. Not me.

I couldn’t get any sleep after my bath, but lying down is relaxing enough to rejuvenate my body after days on horseback. My mind is racing with thoughts about my current situation. I will soon be presenting Excalibur to Arthur. All the kings and nobles of therealm will be there. I can’t help but think of the last time I was presented to a crowd of powerful and important people.

After graduating high school, my father wanted to host a grand soiree for me. It was meant to be my official welcome to the Musgrave family and introduction to society. I was hesitant at first, hating the idea of being the center of attention, especially in the presence of all my father’s friends and colleagues.

The day before the big extravagant party where I was to be named heiress of the Musgrave estate and earldom of Lancaster, I discovered my dear half-sister shredding my gown to pieces.

“What the fuck are you doing!”

Cecily responded in the most innocent of voices she could muster, “Just making some adjustments. There was way too much lace around the–ahhhh.”

I launched at her full force, slamming her to the ground and knocking the scissors out of her hands. The rage I had kept inside me for the past year came pouring out; I had no control over my actions.

As she tried to push me off her, I punched her square in the nose, feeling it crack against my knuckles. Blood trickled down her face and into her mouth as she screamed profanities at me, thrashing her body and attempting to push me off. I was unmoved, a dead weight on her chest, unable to look away from her bloody face. My own face must have looked fierce because Cecily looked like a scared little pig when she glanced up at my eyes.

A hand grabbed me from behind, and I released my hold on her long enough for Cecily to push herself out from under me. “What is the meaning of all this?” Ed asked calmly.

“Guin just jumped me and punched me in the bloody nose. Papa, I think she broke it!”

“And what happened to Guin’s gown? Did you do this?”

“What? No, I mean, I was just playing a little prank on her. It’s what sisters do. Then she went all rabid and attacked me. She’s a psycho bitch.”

“Do not talk of your sister that way. Guin might have overreacted, but this is not what I would call a prank. You intended to ruin her dress, didn’t you?”

After a brief pause, Cecily screamed as loud as she could, “YES. Yes, father, I did. Ever since your precious American daughter came to live with us, it’s like I don’t exist anymore. Guin gets to go to my school and embarrass me with her stupid common ways, then gets to go to a brand new school embarrassing me more with her stupid lowlife friends. Guin gets a new gown, Guin gets a party, Guin, Guin, Guin, GUIN! I’m bloody sick of it!”

“Guin got a new gown because she doesn’t have one. How many gowns do you own, my dear daughter? I didn’t think it necessary to get you a new one when you have a closet full. And as you say, this party is for Guin, not you.”

I sat motionless during this exchange but looked up at my dad after his last comment. Cecily’s reaction was to squeal so loud the entire manor seemed to shake. A moment later, the clicking ofheels down the hall told me that the wicked witch had heard all the commotion and was coming to investigate.