Page 73 of Enchanted Warrior

Tamsin braced herself. “Is this going to be awful like the other stories?”

“I don’t think so,” he said. “But that’s for you to judge.”

Tamsin looked down, unable to meet his intense blue eyes. “Get on with it, then.”

Gawain smiled, his expression touched with nerves. “Early on in his time at the Round Table, Gaheris was tricked by magic into marrying the ugliest crone in the world.”

“This story sucks.” Tamsin tried to pull away, but Gawain held on fast.

“Have patience. There is a point to this tale.”

Tamsin fidgeted, but let him continue.

“The bride’s name was Dame Ragnall, and she was witch-born. She was not just unpleasant to look at, she smelled like a dead cat left in the sun for weeks. She was rude and coarse of speech and manner so that no one wished to be in the same room, much less sit with her at a meal. But Gaheris was a man of honor and would not go back on his word. So, he made the witch his one true wife and he swore he would take no other women to his bed. Thus he went to his wedding night anticipating no pleasure.”

“Are you saying that’s what he got for marrying a witch?”

“I’m saying that he would have been a fool to break his word.” Gawain gave her a quelling look. “The tale does not end at the wedding. When Gaheris shut the bedchamber door that night, he was astonished to find his ghastly wife had turned into the most beautiful—not to mention sweet-smelling—woman he had ever encountered. Not only that, her entire manner had changed. She was soft voiced and courteous, full of wit and as much wisdom as the craftiest counselors of the realm. Needless to say, Gaheris was overjoyed by this change and asked his bride what had happened.”

“A magic curse,” Tamsin said in flat tones.

“Which had been partially lifted because Gaheris had kept his word and taken her to wife. Dame Ragnall told him that because the curse was only half-broken he had a choice—he could have her beautiful at night and ugly during the day, or the other way around. It was a choice between his pride—for what man does not wish to show his lady is the finest above all others?—or his pleasure.”

Despite herself, Tamsin was curious. “What did your brother do?”

“The wisest thing in the world,” said Gawain. “He trusted her. He told his wife the decision was hers to make.”

That wasn’t what Tamsin had expected to hear. “And?”

He met her eyes. “That broke the curse entirely, for a woman cannot be her true self if she is subject to another’s choices. The fact that he trusted her allowed her beauty to shine.”

Tamsin’s heart beat fast as she turned the meaning of the story over and over, but she wasn’t sure what he meant by it. Gawain reached up, brushing his thumb over her lips. “I’ve held on to the terrible things magic has done. When I discovered it was still inside me, I dreaded what it might make me do. I thought it a curse.”

“It’s not. It’s like the bride in the story.” Tamsin suddenly understood his meaning. “Act with honor and trust yourself enough to make the right choices, and what is fearful can become our joy. We are the magic we make.”

“That’s what Ragnall said many, many years ago. I should have listened to her then.”

“What happened to them?” Tamsin asked. “Dame Ragnall and your brother?”

“They were the one bright oasis in my family. Ragnall was a beautiful soul and given freedom of choice, she was her true self every hour of the day. My brother Gaheris lived a long and happy life with her. Their love was founded on trust and respect and they spread happiness to all who met them. You won’t find his tomb among the stone sleepers. He would not leave her to follow us into the future.”

Tamsin felt tears sting her eyes. “That’s both beautiful and sad.”

“Not sad. Their love was a blessing. That is the kind of magic I want with you. I love you, Tamsin Greene. I will be your true knight as long as you will have me.”

She ducked her head, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. He wanted her, magic and all. She’d yearned for that kind of love from him, and he had just laid it at her feet.

A slow smile spread over her lips. “Did you truly think me a wicked witch?”

“Your magic called to mine from the first moment we met. You terrified me.”

“Ah,” she teased. “You don’t think you’re too black hearted for me? Corrupting magic could go either way, you know.”

“I believe you are my anchor, Tamsin Greene. As long as you’re at my side, no evil will ever have power over me.” Though he said it with a teasing smile, there was sincerity in his words. He truly needed and loved her.

Tamsin felt the weight of his trust. She slid her arms around him, laying her head against his chest. “I love you, too, Gawain.”

Their conversation unraveled after that, but in the best way possible. It deteriorated in the shower, where Tamsin took great pleasure in getting soapy for the second time that afternoon, and crumbled still further as they rumpled the crisp, clean sheets of her bed.

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