Page 67 of The White Enchantress

“I was supposed to marry you, Arthur. But as your wife and queen, I would fall in love with Lancelot. Our betrayal would eventually lead to your…demise.”

“Hmpf…so you believe that fate is stepping in to make it right because you married Lancelot first? This does not make sense. My destiny is clear. Merlin has seen it, even Vivienne. I will become king of all of Britain. Unite the kingdoms and keep us safe from invaders.”

“And perhaps you will do that. In all the stories, you are portrayed as a heroic king. You are legendary. But what if Vivienne is right? What if Lancelot is alive?”

“I wish with all my heart that it is true. But if he is…gone?”

“If you are asking for my hand again, I just don’t know. Even if Vivienne can’t feel him or whatever, what if he really is alive. This could be fate pushing us together just to bring Lancelot back from the dead and bam! We are all fucked!” What I am saying is crazy, but in my current reality, it makes sense.

We sit in silence again. A silence I have become comfortable with. Not that I dislike talking to Arthur, but it is nice to be able to sit in silence this way with another human.

I think of Lancelot. How much I miss him. If Vivienne cannot find him on this plane, alive, I don’t know what my life would be like here. If he is truly dead, I want to go back home to the twenty-first century. To my father and to Josh. I know I have a life waiting for me there.

Sure, I could have a life here with Arthur. He is a good man. And I know he would be a gentle, loving husband. I wouldn’t have this problem if Lancelot and Arthur were the stereotypical medieval men they should have been. I wouldn’t have fallen for Lance and I wouldn’t be contemplating marriage to King Arthur.

Am I actually contemplating marriage to King fucking Arthur?It is hard to stomach, but if I am stuck here, I don’t think I could survive as a single mom in the sixth century. Even with a castle all mine and servants to help me with everyday living, I don’t want my child to grow up fatherless.

If I marry Arthur, he will make sure my child would want for nothing. But every day, I would be tormented with the question, “what if?” From movies and television, I’ve learned that if you don’t see the body, they will always return.

God, I want Lancelot to be alive. I want him so badly. I know I was naive to think he was truly mine forever. That the universe would let me have such a wonderful, gentle, sweet, loving man with the tightest ass and the brightest green eyes. I love him. With every fiber of my being, I love him.

My love for him is raw, consuming, visceral. When we first met, it was like I was a wax candle and he the wick. The fire burned us both, devouring us in hours until we were left with nothing but our naked, true selves, hiding nothing from each other.

I thought I had been in love with Josh, or at least falling for him. Josh is my best friend and the one person who knows me inside and out. When we fell into bed together, our friendship became more. But the love I had felt for Josh, that I still feel for him, is not the same.

My love for Lance is epic romance-level shit. Something I thought could only be completely fictional, intended to bring adventure to readers who need a little smut in their lives. I never thought I would fall so deeply in love like this. It is a terrifying feeling. And with him gone from my life, that part of me will never live again. I will love the fuck out of my child with all the pieces I have left. But that part of me, that epic love, it died with Lancelot.

“He is gone.” Vivienne is beside herself with grief. Morgana holds her close, silent tears falling down her face. “I am so sorry to have given you some hope that he could still be alive. Morgana and I spent hours in silence, trying to find his essence. He is gone. Arthur’s reports are correct. Forgive me for the harsh words I said to you earlier, your highness.”

“No need for that, Vivienne. There is nothing to forgive. Please accept my deepest sympathies for your loss.”

“We all have suffered the same loss. Though, Guinevere, my daughter, why did you not tell me when you arrived? How far along are you?”

I am startled that she knows I am pregnant as I can only be a few weeks along. I tell her as much in a whisper, unable to make a sound in my renewed grief. “How did you know?”

“The essence I felt of Lancelot, it came from you, from within your womb.”

“Oh.”

“It brings me joy to know my Galahad will live on through your child. Please know, you have a home here if you so wish it.”

The tears I am trying so hard to keep inside violently shake my body. Vivienne is at my side in an instant, holding me tightly to her chest. Her embrace reminds me of my mother. How she wouldhold me as a young girl when I was frightened or upset. The slight swaying motion is magical. I begin to feel my grief loosening its hold on my heart.

“There, there. Breathe, Guin, take long, deep breaths.”

“Thank you, Vivienne. The pain is difficult to handle at times.”

“Pain can also make us act foolish as well. I do apologize for how I acted earlier. I was…not myself.”

“I had a similar reaction when Arthur told me. Any other king would have had me beheaded for such treachery.” I thought these words as a joke in my mind, but as they leave my mouth, I say them with sincerity. “My lady, I do have a question for you.”

“You want to go home, I know. But I am afraid there is no way back. Every priestess able to read has been through all our records and books. I do not know how to return you to your time. You must make your life here.”

“I just don’t know how to make a life here without Lance.”

“I can offer you a life here as a priestess. Your child would be raised here, just as Lancelot was.”

Vivienne looks over at Arthur who has been quiet during our entire exchange. Waiting patiently to be brought into the conversation again. And he is ready for his cue.

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