Page 51 of The White Enchantress

And her parents were not Roman and Pict. Her father was, will be, the 19th Earl of Lancaster, a rank of nobility in what she calls the United Kingdom. My heart stops beating at the mention of a united kingdom, believing that King Arthur’s vision will come true one day. Even if it does not happen in my lifetime, I am glad to hear of it. Her knowledge of Arthur is vast yet vague. In her time, there are many variations of his story and my part within it.

All of the stories spoke of a love triangle. One that would make me an enemy of King Arthur and dismantle the peace we have fought so hard for. And she, Guinevere, would be the cause of it all. I cannot believe this story she is telling me. But at the same time, I know it to be true. Looking back on the day we met and how she reacted, I now understand what she felt.

“I fought so hard against my own self. I didn’t want to fall for you, Lance. And I don’t blame you. You did nothing. You are just,you. Brave, caring, kind, handsome. When you were near me, I shut you out. When you ignored me, I craved to be close to you. What I feel has nothing to do with fate, destiny, or simply knowing that I would eventually fall in love with you. But I do believe we belong together. Something brought me here to find Excalibur but it also brought me to you.”

My chest is bursting with joy while my mind is trying to comprehend Guinevere’s story. “Josh, your father, they are still alive?”

“It’s difficult to understand. At this moment, this exact moment in time? No. They have never existed. But they exist in my life, in my memories. And it feels like they are dead. I’ll never see them again.”

“What if you had the chance to go back? Would you take it? I had thought you would not have room for me in your heart because of your love for Josh. I do not wish to keep you from him. I would do anything to bring you the happiness you seek,” I say with a heavy heart, internally punching myself for even suggesting such a thing.

“I don’t know. I do love Josh. Maybe he would have been a great love of my life. He will always have a place in my heart. But, Lance, my soul is yours. As much as I want to go home and see all my loved ones, eat pizza, chocolate, pad Thai and pork roll, I don’t think I could leave you. The only thing that frightens me is the legend of what happened here in King Arthur’s England. Whatwillhappen. If Arthur gave you his blessing to be with me, then how can all the versions of his story say I was his queen? Maybe I have already done something differently. Or maybe all the legendsare just that. Legends, stories. Or maybe I am nottheGuinevere. Like how there are one too many Marys in the bible. And none of the stories said anything about how Guinevere became Excalibur. That was unexpected.”

“And terrifying. Guinevere, you have caused my chest to convulse too many times since meeting you.” She laughs at me, then pulls me to her, offering me her warm, soft lips.

“If we marry, what happens next?” Guinevere breathes against my mouth.

“I will write to Arthur, tell him of our betrothal, and take you to my castle. If you wish to return to Camelot, we will go there together. But I would desire to show you my home, our home, before we return.”

“If we marry, then I will never be King Arthur’s wife. Our love will not be doomed. I will never commit adultery. Arthur will not lose his kingdom or his life.”

“If we marry, yes. How could all that occur if you are my wife, not Arthur’s?” I smile against her cheek, causing Guinevere’s skin to pucker at my touch.

“I must admit, you are taking this all rather well.”

“I have seen many strange things during my twenty-two years of life. You, my love, are the strangest of them all.”

“When I am healthy enough, take me home. And Lance, can you call me Guin? All my friends and family where I am from called me that. It would make me feel more at home hearing that name again, especially from your lips.”

“Guin. Still beautiful.” I place a kiss on her forehead. Her skin feels warm but not feverish and is slightly more pink than pale. “Let me take my leave of you. I need to tell Gawain your decision. He will not be happy.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow? I do not want to be alone. Will you stay with me?”

“That would not be appropriate–”

“Oh, please. We’ve already had sex, Lance. And we are in Avalon, not Camelot. No one will judge us here.”

“No, they will not. Let me fetch a cot. I will sleep beside your bed. We could not very well fit in this bed together. One of us would end up on the floor.”

“As long as you are near me. I feel safer when I know you are near.”

Gathering her hands in mine, I kiss her knuckles, smiling against them as I say, “You have made me the happiest man in the realm. In all of time.”

Chapter 25

Guinevere

Lancelot and I havebeen in Avalon for three days. I am feeling much better than when I arrived. In my feverous haze, I wasn’t sure I’d be alive much longer. But Vivienne was able to stop the infection and heal my wound. It’s difficult not to remember who it was that wounded me and why. I try not to let it seep in.

It helps to have such a loving support system around me. I’m not sure when it happened, but I have a family here, 1500 years away from the life I once lived. Vivienne was not happy about Lance and me at first. But she can see now that we are meant for each other. She said something about our auras balancing each other out and that I shine brighter when I’m near Lancelot.

Every evening, Lancelot comes to my room to stay with me for the night. I don’t know how much alone time we will get once we leave for Joyous Gard tomorrow, Lance’s castle. We will be away from the safety of Avalon and cast out into the spotlight of a world that judges everyone and everything. I’m terrified of what Arthur might think of me running away to Lancelot’s castle, betrothedand possibly with child. Arthur seemed sincere when he basically gave me permission to be with Lancelot. But did he truly believe it would happen? And so soon?

“What is that shiny object you attempt to hide? The one you keep in your pocket or sometimes your bag,” Lance asks from his makeshift bed on the floor.

“My phone?” I ask. Then realizing he wouldn’t know what I am talking about, I pull it out of the pocket I keep it in. “How did you even see this? I keep it hidden all the time.”

“You are not as sly as you think, Guin.” He looks up at me from the lumpy mattress on the floor, a smile making his eyes shine in the dim light of the room. “What is a phone?”

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