Page 113 of Propriety
“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, heart thudding with something warm and ancient and soft.
He rested his chin on her head. “Only for you.”
The fire popped, a lazy ember crackling to life. Guinevere sighed against his chest, her laughter trailing off into a sleepy hum. Lancelot’s arms tightened slightly around her, one hand smoothing up her back.
“Are you proud of yourself?” she murmured, cheek pressed to the worn fabric of his tunic.
“Immensely,” he said. “I made you laugh, got called a bastard, and, most importantly, I feel confident in my life as a minstrel once this knight thing goes south.”
She let out a sleepy snort. “Oh heavens. The world isn’t ready.”
“I know. Some lights burn too bright.”
She swatted weakly at his side, but her fingers just curled there, resting. He turned his head slightly, catching the scent of her hair, and closed his eyes.
They stayed like that for a while. The fire dipped lower. Outside, wind moved softly past the windows, rattling gently.
“You warm enough?” he asked eventually, his voice quieter now.
She nodded. “You’re very smug and very warm.”
“Excellent. I strive to excel in both.”
She yawned without meaning to, one hand drifting up to rest just beneath his collarbone. “I could fall asleep right here.”
“You are asleep right here.”
She smiled faintly, eyes still shut. “Lancelot?”
“Mmm?”
She tipped her head up just enough to meet his eyes. “Why don’t you leave?” Her words trembled as she spoke them. “You could be free of this torment.”
Her knight sat up quickly, tugging her up with him. “Don’t be ridiculous.” His brow was furrowed, words tight.
“I’m not being ridiculous, Lancelot.” She brushed her fingertips along his jawline. “I’m serious. You could walk out of here, be entirely released from this hell I’ve trapped you in.”
“Guinevere…”
His voice broke a little on her name.
She didn’t look away. “You could live. Grow old. Find peace. A life without this constant danger.”
“Withoutyou?” he repeated, like the words offended him.
She said nothing.
Lancelot took her face in both hands, gently but with urgency, like he needed her to feel every word. “Do you really think I’d be free if I left you behind?”
Her eyes shone in the firelight, unshed tears blurring the edges.
“I’d survive, maybe,” he said. “But I would never be whole. I would never bemewithout you.”
She shook her head, lips trembling. “You deserve more than I can give you here, inside these walls.”
“Run away with me.” He said suddenly, the reflection from the hearth blazing in his eyes.
“Lance,”
