Page 53 of Propriety
She had never attended court so much in all her years of ruling. It was good for her mind; it kept her thoughts from wandering too far.
Arthur rarely permitted her to voice her opinions, but if a woman approached with a problem, or a family needed food or goods, he tasked her with assisting them.
It gave her something to do.
Most days were filled with political jargon and knight assignments, but it was better than needlepoint in her room.
Arthur tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her lips.
Too firm.
Too rough.
I love you.
She forced a smile, bowing her head as he took his seat. “It brings much joy to my heart, wife, to have you join me for court.” His words sounded amiable enough, but she felt the jab hiding underneath.
You’re broken.
I broke you.
I’ve won.
“Of course, your grace.” Her hands were clasped in her lap, too tight.
An older gentleman strolled in, sword strapped to his hip and an axe slung over his back.
“Greetings, sire.” Arthur beckoned him closer. “What brings youto Camelot this day?”
“M’just passing through, mostly, your grace.” The man had a deep drawl, a wide smile. “But I’ve been tasked with delivering a message. Was promised to be put up for a night if I did so.”
“Of course, my good man.” Arthur seemed to be kind, so welcoming to the people of Camelot.
She never saw that side of him.
People spoke of Arthur as though he had been blessed by Christ himself, with a kindness in his heart and a welcoming soul that other lords and ladies could only pray they would once achieve.
Even in her grief, Guinevere knew better.
He was a wolf, hidden in the clothing of a kind and gentle man.
“I traveled with a group of your knights about a fortnight ago, I think.” He scratched his head. “Was asked to tell you that ‘The hunt for the Grail continues fruitlessly.’”
Her heart stopped, fingers clutched at her dress. Her knuckles strained as she grasped for something to hold on to.
“Ah,” Arthur practically beamed. “It is always good to hear from my men out on the road. Did you stay with them long?”
The man shook his head. “Just one night, your holiness.”
“Guinevere,” the king called over his shoulder, “Take this man to the guest wing and ensure he is accommodated in our finest rooms tonight.”
She nodded, every muscle in her body screamed.
She ached.
She couldn’t be near this man.
I love you.
