Page 67 of The Dragon Ring
He nodded. “To Din Cadan. I was sixteen. I thought I’d been banished and that Cadwy was behind it. I was right. He wanted me gone. He wanted me dead. As Merlin pointed out so sagely, I was safer away from Cadwy than walled up with him in the Imperial Palace of Viroconium. He said I was lucky to have reached sixteen without falling victim to some mysterious sickness.”
That was probably true.
I smiled at him. “But you’ve got the better of him now. You’ve got Dumnonia, and you’re a king.”
Triumph kindled in his eyes. He took my hand where the dragon ring sparkled. “Thanks in part to you.” My heart did a somersault of excitement at his touch.
Yet I was puzzled. “Why me?”
He turned the ring on my finger. “Because even though I’m not superstitious, my father was. He had the prophecy of the Lady of the Ring carved onto his heart. I knew that if I brought you to him, it would make things so much easier.”
“So you wanted him to make you marry me? That was why you brought me along? Not because you thought I was a healer– and by the way I’m just a first aider, which is something quite different– but because you knew if he saw me, he’d want to see the prophecy fulfilled?”
He nodded, and this time he gave me a wide grin. I could sense the collective sigh emanating from Albina and Cloelia.
“Neatly done, wasn’t it?” His voice held a hint of smugness.
Hadn’t Merlin said something similar when he’d come upon us hand-fasted together?
I was curious. “So how did you get him to write the testament in your favor?”
“Simple.” He looked proud. “He didn’t write it. Merlin did.”
Of course. They’d gone prepared.
He must have sensed my next question because he forestalled it. “He wrote it for me back in Din Cadan, and all we had to do the night of my father’s death was to get him to sign it. Cadwy was stupid enough to leave me alone with him. He thought he wouldn’t waken again. I got the testament out, and my father signed it. It wasn’t underhand. Well, not much underhand at any rate. He meant me to have Dumnonia. He told me so as I sat with him, but I knew Cadwy would disregard his spoken wishes. So I had to get it in writing. He was glad to do it. He knew what Cadwy is.”
Hence the confident wink when I was walking toward the throne on the dais to pay my respects to Cadwy. Something presumably I’d never have to do again. Because if Arthur was a king, then I, as his wife, must be a queen.
The meal was nearly over. Euddolen, Theodoric’s story finished, turned back to Arthur, and I pushed my plate away, unable to eat anything more.
Arthur leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms above his head and yawning widely. “It’s been a long day and I’m ready to turn in. I started it out as nothing and finished it as a king, and it’s high time I took my queen to bed.”
He turned his head, looking at me appraisingly, and my stomach lurched. His eyes were like dark peaty pools, reflecting the glow of the torches set in the wall sconces, and I was falling into them. Had I been looking forward to this?
Albina and Cloelia looked at me in open envy. Their mother must have revealed my identity to them before the meal, because they’d been shooting me envious glances whenever they could.
Arthur got to his feet and made a bow to Euddolen.
“Let me thank you, Euddolen, for all your help and planning. Without you, none of this would have come about. Nor you, Theodoric. Without you riding to fetch me from Din Cadan, this would never have succeeded.” He raised his goblet. “To Euddolen and to Theodoric. The best of allies.” We all got to our feet and raised our goblets, repeating the toast. Euddolen beamed round the table at his family and guests like the Cheshire Cat.
Arthur took my hand as I set down my goblet. “And now to bed.”
Chapter Nineteen
Little clay oillamps sat on every surface in the bedchamber. The room was suffused with their warm glow, and our shadows leapt up the wall in every direction. Arthur closed the door behind us, shutting out the cold night air.
I took a few steps inside and halted, looking at the bed. Our bed.
On soft footsteps he came up behind me. I could sense him standing there, not touching me, just quietly breathing. I didn’t know what I was feeling. Was I afraid? Excited? Both? To one side stood a long, carved wooden bench spread with colorful cushions. I went and sat on it, hands folded in my lap.
He sat next to me. He smelled clean and freshly scrubbed from the villa bath house, with a hint of the herbs his clothes had been kept in. But overlying it all he smelled very masculine. It was a heady mixture. He took my hand, threading his fingers between mine in a curiously intimate gesture– the same way I’d held hands with Nathan.
A lump rose in my throat. Would I ever see Nathan again? Or was I stuck here forever, lost in time, part of a yesterday that was now my today? Tears formed in the corners of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. Arthur put a gentle hand up and wiped them away.
I turned my head and looked at him. His face was close to mine.
“Why are you crying?” His voice held unaccustomed tenderness. “Are you afraid?”
