This lasted approximately two nights’ worth of gatherings before Lancelot got wind of it and showed up at the next one. It wasn’t long before they decided to move to the mostly unused chamber downstairs with a fireplace the size of a washroom and ample chairs and sofas for a proper party. At least once a week, all the local king’s guard and even Gawain with his lute in tow gathered in the big room (Vera’s name for it—but it stuck) to … hang out.
New buds adorned the trees every morning. The spring tournament was less than a week away, and the joust was all anyone in Camelot could think about.
“And all of our knights will be here,” Percival said one evening as they lounged in the big room in the comfiest seats pulled close to the fireplace in a semicircle. “The jousting tournament will be the largest it’s ever been.”
Gawain sat in the circle, strumming his lute and trying fruitlessly to teach Lancelot how to play. Even Randall stayed this evening, his head bent close to Matilda’s, listening intently with a dreamy smile as she told him a story. Vera grinned before she turned her attention back to Arthur and Percival, still on about the joust.
“You have a title to defend, don’t you?” Arthur asked. “Have you been preparing?”
Percival shrugged modestly. “I may not take the prize, but I’m confident I’ll put in a good showing.”
Arthur gave Vera a look as if he was considering something. He slid his hand onto hers as he said, “Guinevere’s been learning to joust.”
She wasn’t bothered by Arthur calling her Guinevere in company with others who didn’t know her story, but she was taken aback to hear him proudly sharing this trivia.
Percival’s interest was thoroughly piqued. He leaned toward her. “Are you really? How’s that going?”
“Mm, it’s a mixed bag.” She laughed nervously. “But I can consistently hold up a full-sized lance now, so that’s something.”
“You’re being modest,” Arthur said to her before he turned back to Percival. “She doesn’t believe me when I say it, but she’s doing incredibly well. I think she’s ready for an opponent.”
It was the second time he’d said that aloud this week. The first was at their most recent training session, and Vera brushed it off as a bit of hyperbole for the sake of encouragement. As Arthur looked pointedly at Percival, she started to realize his comment this evening wasn’t simply for the sake of conversation. Percival tilted his head in question. Arthur nodded.
“I could do it,” Percival said, his eyes gleaming as he leaned forward.
“You have the best aim,” Arthur said.
Percival beamed. “It’s the one thing I can actually best Arthur and Lancelot at. His Majesty is stronger, Lancelot’s better at … well, every single other thing. But I’ve mastered the lance. Bit useless in anything that matters, but I’ll take it. Do you want to?” he asked her.
Vera straightened in her seat. “Seriously?”
Their rising voices drew Lancelot’s attention. “What are we serious about?”
“Arthur’s been teaching Guinevere to joust,” Percival said. “And I’m going to be her first opponent.”
The smile hadn’t fallen from Lancelot’s face, but it darkened significantly as he looked each of them in the eye, landing on Arthur, who he fixed with a scathing scowl. “Are you out of your mind? That is so dangerous. No. Absolutely not.”
Vera’s eyebrows shot up.
“All right, all right,” Percival conceded, raising his hands apologetically in front of him.
Lancelot nodded, apparently mollified. As soon as he’d turned his attention back to the lute, Percival leaned across Arthur to Vera. “He doesn’t have to know.”
Before their run in the morning, Vera had decided that she wasn’t going to tell Lancelot that she, Arthur, and Percival had made plans for her first official jousting bout a few short hours later. But the damn man read her face like a children’s book. He knew she was hiding something less than a mile in. And after he chipped away at her resolve for the better part of an hour, peppering her with annoyingly earnest concern, Vera’s guilt won out, and she came clean.
He went silent for a few tense minutes.
“You’re angry with me,” Vera said, surprised to realize it.
“I’m not—” He stopped. “All right. Yes, I am. This is foolish. I’m angry with all three of you. I’m not going to allow it to happen.”
But it wasn’t up to him, and he ultimately knew that.
He was methodical in his attempt to peck away at the jousting plan as they walked to the practice arena in the woods. “You can’t use that ill-fitted armor she’s been wearing for an actual match. It will have to wait at least until she has her armor,” he said reasonably.
Vera pursed her lips as Arthur said, “That’s true, but Randall’s already finished it. She’s been using her new armor for two weeks now.”
Lancelot huffed and turned on Vera. “And what do you intend to do if Percival misses his mark, and you are seriously injured?”
