Page 33 of The White Enchantress

Chapter 17

Lancelot

Arthur stands still, unmovedby the sudden blast of white light. His hand falls back to his side as he witnesses Guinevere disappearing in the brightness emanating from Excalibur’s blade. I move toward the light, needing to know if Guinevere is still in there. If she is safe. Arthur holds out his arm, stopping me before I can take a complete step forward. He looks at me sternly, with no fear on his face. Mine must have shown nothing but fear. “Guinevere,” I whisper.

“She will be all right. Excalibur would not do anything to harm her.”

I step back, wanting to believe this to be true. Deep down, I know she is safe. I had felt Excalibur’s soul, essence, whichever it is inside that sword. It is a gentle yet fierce being.

As I relax my shoulders, no longer preparing to charge into the light, it begins to dim. I see a figure in the whiteness, a glow of red in the middle as Guinevere’s hair shimmers through the sphere of light. But as Guinevere becomes visible, Excalibur disappears.The light, the sword, the essence. All of it absorbs into Guinevere’s chest.

She looks at peace, her eyes barely open as the light pulses one last time. Arthur runs to her a split second before me, catching her in his arms. He holds Guinevere close to his chest, causing a violent surge of anger and jealousy inside me. One in which I need to push down into the pit of my stomach. I grab hold of Arthur’s arm, pleading. “Is she–”

“She is breathing. Lancelot, she is alive.”

Along with the unnecessary jealousy, I push down the violent tears that threaten to burst from my eyes. I have never known pain like what I am feeling now. Seeing Guinevere disappear in a mystical sphere of light, a sword dissolving into her chest, the way she collapsed to the floor. I am terrified.

Guinevere is a beautiful mystery, one that will never truly be revealed to me. She could never be mine. Still, my heart yearns for her. And I want nothing more than to rip her from Arthur’s arms, take her in mine, and run away to my castle up north. Hide her from the world and all those who would take her from me.

“Lancelot, take the lady,” Arthur commands me, as if reading my mind. “Bring her up to her chambers. Lady Elaine, accompany them. Stay with Guinevere.”

As Arthur places Guinevere in my arms, Elaine walks out from the crowd, curtsies and makes her way through the hall with Guinevere and me in tow. The knights help part the ocean of frantic people, making a pathway out of the hall. Guinevere feels warm inmy hands, just as Excalibur had.Is the sword inside her now, or has it returned to its watery dwelling?I ask myself.

Once clear of the crowded hall, Elaine and I make our way back to the keep where Guinevere has been staying. Elaine opens the door, stepping inside to let me through before closing and locking the bolt. I gently place Guinevere on the bed. Sitting beside her, I scoop a warm hand in mine. The warmth I feel is comforting. She is alive.

“What happened?” I ask no one in particular.

“She is a witch, is she not? She did this intentionally to ruin our king.”

“Elaine, how could you say such a thing? Did you not see the fear in her eyes as the white light began to surround her? She did not know this would happen.”

“She has enchanted you.”

I turn back to Guinevere, her sweet freckled face so still, but alive. She has enchanted me, but not in the way Elaine is accusing her of. “How do you mean?”

“You are in love with her, are you not? And she with you. It was obvious from the first day you returned with her.”

“I do not know what you speak of. Guinevere and I are friends.”

“Are wefriends?”

“I…yes, Elaine, we are friends.” I turn back around to face Elaine. Her skin has turned a blushing red, anger rising to the surface.

“You never look at me the way you do her. You do not care about the hearts you crush. One day it will be her heart you crush, and she will hate you for it, just as I do.”

“And why do you hate me, Elaine? Is it because I kissed you once and told you it was a mistake?”

“How many girls have you made mistakes with, Lancelot?”

I look down at Guinevere’s face before answering, hoping she cannot hear this conversation in this state. “Do you want me to answer truthfully?”

Elaine crosses her arms, huffing as she nods.

“Too many. I will admit that I have made many mistakes in my life. But not anymore. Arthur has put his faith in me. You know very well that I have tried to live a pious life after becoming a knight. I do not blame you for kissing me that night. I was drunk, flirting. It is no excuse. Elaine, if I hurt you, I apologize a thousand times over. Truly.”

“You could charm a goat,” Elaine snips. Her shoulders relax, though her anger has not completely subdued. A knock on the door makes us both jump. I stand up, hand to my sword as I ask who it is.

“Lancelot, is that you?”

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