Page 116 of Propriety
“I can’t breathe,” she managed, shocked by the tremble in her own words.
“You’re safe. I’m here,” He,Lancelot, whispered, voice hoarse with panic. He sank to his knees before her, pulling her against his chest without hesitation. “Breathe with me,mon amour, just breathe with me.”
“I can’t.” She gasped. She felt herself shaking in his arms.
His hand found the back of her neck, the other pressed gently against her ribs, steady and warm. “You can. Youwill.” She felt him expand with a deep breath. Her body couldn’t help but imitate.
She tried. Failed. Tried again.
“Good.” He pressed his lips against her hair. “That’s it. Just stay with me.” Every word was a tether, grounding her. “He won’t hurt you, not while I live.”
She clung to the front of his tunic, breath still jagged but catching now, syncing slowly to the rhythm of his voice, his body.
“That bastard,” Lancelot muttered under his breath, fierce and quiet. “You shouldn’t have to endure this.”
Her fingers tightened in his shirt. “He said… if no one steps forward…”
“I heard him,” Lancelot said bitterly. “The whole courtyard did.” His grip on her tightened. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll-”
“A-and,” Her words failed hers, breathing haywire again. Her knuckles turned white with the grip she had on him. “He… He…”
“Not now, heart.” He shushed her gently, a smile flickering on his lips. “You will have a champion.”
“No,” she gasped, shaking her head. Tears flooded her vision once more. “You can’t.”
Gwen tried to meet his gaze. His face was drawn, eyes wild, as he brushed the tears from her cheeks.
“He’ll kill you.” She managed before her chest began to collapse against her again, breath stuttering as the panic in her stomach swelled.
That’s when something changed.
Not in her.
Inhim.
His hands didn’t move. His voice didn’t rise. But somethingsnappedbehind his eyes.
And even through the blur of tears, she saw it.
Saw his fury still and sharp, not flaring outward — but foldinginlike a blade sheathed too tightly. “He hurt you.” He whispered. “Throughme.”
She couldn’t speak, clinging to him like he was the last anchor in all of England.
“I won’t let him usemeas the weapon to break you, Guinevere.”
She shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head as she tried to drag air in, as she continued to tremble beneath his arms.
“I would rather die,” she choked, the words so soft they barely escaped her lips. “Then watch him kill you. I would ratherdie, Lancelot-”
“Don’t,” he growled, and the word struck like flint. Not loud.Not sharp. But final.
Her eyes flew open.
His grip had not shifted — but every part of him had gone still.
Utterly still.
A quiet that crackled, like the moment before lightning splits the sky.
