Page 77 of Propriety
A crimson ribbon knotted around the grip of his weapon.
“Starting without me?” He asked, stepping up to the table.
“Du Lac,” the king rose from his seat with a bewildered look in his eyes, leaning forward onto his hands. “I assumed you were dead, old friend.” The king waved a hand dismissively. “You and I have much to talk about.” His eyes cut to his sister, who still wore a smirk.
“But first… You dare to return without the Grail.”
Lancelot stalked over to where Guinevere sat, standing behind her chair like a wraith. “Apologies, brother.” The sound of his voice alone brought calm to her.
He was ashamed of his rage, of his anger. But his ferocity… his newly found hostility towards the king made her feelstrong.
Safe.
“But we did see it,” Gawain interjected, his fingers curling around the chair in front of him. “We got closer than any questing grouphas gotten before.”
“You saw it, youfoundit, and yet it is not here in my hands.” Arthur snapped, slamming his hands down on the table.
The noise caused Gwen to jolt.
Lancelot leaned against her chair, copying Gawain’s motions. She felt a brush on the back of her neck. Light, tender, quick.
“Brother,” her knight drawled, “We lived to bring you information of the Grail. Information you wouldn’t have if we had died.”
“Dead or alive, you are ofno useto me.” The king’s words were sharp. This was the closest he had gotten to the Holy Grail. Before him stood three knights who had laid their eyes on his most valued treasure. “Why didn’t you bring it back?”
“You know the legends of the Grail, Arthur.” Guinevere spoke next, her words steadier than she had expected.
“Pure of heart, pure of intent.” His eyes were on her, loathing painted across his features. “Are you telling me that my knights areimpure?”
“My king,” Percival spoke, dragging his hand through his sandy hair. “We are just men. We have strong intentions, loyal hearts, but no man can be pure.”
“And yet it revealed itself to you.” The king stood, pacing around the room.
This was when he struck, when he was most dangerous. Confined to a seat, he could do no damage. “What did you see when you looked inside the Grail, knights?”
Percival and Gawain exchanged a look, and a knot formed in Guinevere’s stomach. “Your grace,” Gawain started, brow furrowing, “du Lac is the only one that had the chance to peer inside before itdisappeared.”
“Is that so?” But the words weren’t from the king… they came from Morgana.
All eyes turned to her. She sat with one hand resting over her stomach, the other curled along the edge of the table like a talon. Her smirk was small, but sharp enough to wound. “And what did you see, Lancelot?” Her voice was syrup-sweet. “A vision of Heaven? Or perhaps your impurity made tangible?”
Lancelot didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The only shift was the subtle tightening of his jaw, the twitch of a muscle in his temple. He looked at Morgana like a man calculating the weight of silence. “Well, dear?” She purred, leaning forward.
Guinevere had to dig her fingernails into her palm to keep herself from an outburst. Morgana’s words, her actions — breasts spilling out of her low-cut dress, eyelashes fluttering, a sly smile across her lips — were aimed at Lancelot.
At the claimed father of her child.
“Tell them,” Morgana cooed, tilting her head, “what truth the Grail laid bare for you. Or is it something you’d rather whisper into my ear again?”
The room turned ice cold.
Lancelot’s hand flexed over the back of Guinevere’s chair. His voice, when it came, was quiet. Dangerous. “The Grail does not whisper lies. It shows only what lives buried deepest in a man’s soul.”
Morgana’s smile faltered — but only for a moment.
“What did you see, then?” Arthur barked, impatience crawling through his tone. “Answer her.”
“Your grace,” Percival spoke next, “This is incredibly sensitiveinformation… Might we reconvene?” His eyes flashed to Morgana, only briefly.
