The front door slammed.
I ran into the entrance hall and threw it open, just in time to see the two of them struggling to drag Kelly’s large backpack across the courtyard toward Jane’s beaten up old Fiat.
They must have already been packed and ready to leave.
“Kelly, please stop. I didn’t mean?—”
“I hate you, Maeve!” she yelled after me as they raced under the portcullis. “I never want to see you again.”
CHAPTER TEN
ELEVEN: ARTHUR
“Woah,easy!”
Sweat streaked Maeve’s face, plastering her long pink fringe against her skin. She stepped back and swung the sword again, winding the heavy blade through her hands like it was made of cardboard. Metal clashed against metal, and it was all I could do to hold the cross while she forced her weight against my blade.
“Are you sure you don’t need a break?” I gritted my teeth as her superior position forced my weapon aside. The tip of her practice sword slid dangerously close to my face.
We disengaged, stepping back and preparing to go again.
“Nope.” Maeve raised the blade, her eyes blazing. “Again.”
We’ve been drilling and fighting for two hours. Unlike our other sessions, Maeve had hardly spoken. I knew she was upset about Kelly leaving, but unlike Corbin I didn’t have the conversation skills required to get her to open up. She knew that, which is why she’d come to me demanding a sword fighting lesson using metal reenactment swords (with blunted edges).
After all, I was the expert at fighting my way through my pain.
Our swords clashed. This time Maeve’s arm spasmed, and my blade slid down hers, hitting her on the shoulder.
“Ow!” She dropped her sword and clutched her collarbone.
“Shit, Maeve. I’m so sorry.” I tossed my weapon aside and ran to her. “Let me look.”
“It hurts,” she moaned. I prised her fingers away from the spot. Her pale skin was already starting to bruise. She winced when I pressed the spot, but it didn’t look like anything was broken.
“I really am sorry. Come sit down.” I scooped her into my arms and laid down against our favourite apple tree, wrapping my arms around her. She fought me for a few moments, but then she settled against me, resting her head against my chest. My heart beat beneath her, my chest inflating like a balloon.
“It’s not your fault,” she grumbled.
“Do you want to talk about?—”
“Nope.” Maeve grabbed my arm. Before I could stop her she’d torn up my sleeve, revealing my cuts. “Tell me about these,” she said.
“Don’t change the subject,” I croaked out, my heart hammering. I didn’t want to talk about myself.
“You sound like Corbin. He’s already made me talk the Kelly subject to death. I want to think about something else. Namely, why my favourite medieval knight is hurting himself.”
“I told you, I cut myself sharpening my sword.”
“Bullshit, Arthur.”
I shrugged, shuffling away from her so she couldn’t feel my heart pounding against my chest. “It’s not a big deal.”
“As your High Priestess, and your girlfriend who loves you, I’ll be the judge of that. Spill it.”
“You love me?” Slipped so casually into her scolding, the words threw me.Your girlfriend who loves you.
I never had one of those before. Never in my whole life did I imagine that someone like Maeve could feel that way about me.
