"Be blessed."She curtsied and then strode off in that way of women with things to do and no time for the trivialities of the men always getting in her way.Morgan and the others would love her.
"Maiden, I did not catch your name, if you're willing to share it."
She turned and smiled."I am Lady Iseult, my mother and His Highness are old friends and he's granted us use of his home for as long as we need.Farewell for now, good knight."
Lady Iseult.Mercy alive.This was where she and her mother had vanished.
Problem for another day.
For the present, he stepped into his chambers and closed the door behind him, leaning against it to take everything in and simplybefor the moment.
It was a handsome room, small as most castle rooms were, but well-appointed, with rugs and tapestries to mitigate draft and chill, a bed with the heavy drapes currently drawn back, a small fire to keep the space warm, a wardrobe and dressing table.There was also a bath waiting, which was the best thing he had seen in days.
Servants brought his belongings just as he was settling into the bath, and the offer one made to wash his hair was too nice to be refused.The water was still hot, fragrant with oil that smelled of flowers, though he couldn't say which ones.Arthur would have known; he loved flowers.
Nearly an hour later, as sunlight was just beginning to hint along the horizon, he stood dressed and ready to face the day ahead of him.A day worth surrendering an entire kingdom.Lancelot still didn't know what to make of that.
Someone knocked on the door and then stepped inside, curtsying before saying, "His Highness invites you to see him in his chambers, Sir du Lac."
Lancelot's heart, already racing, started beating fit to burst."Of course."
The trip wasn't far, just down the hallway, an open stretch that overlooked the great hall below.It would be a poor place to fight, too easy to fall or be thrown over the side, and he wondered that the builders would have made such a careless mistake or that the mistake had been allowed.There was some advantage to being able to see what was happening below, but the defense to sacrifice was too great.
All thought of castle design fled his mind as his escort opened the door at the end of the walkway, curtsied, and bid him good day before walking past him back the way they'd come.
Lancelot stepped into the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
It was a large room for a castle, even more beautifully appointed than his own, though not ostentatious and overblown as so many royal apartments tended to be.There was no bed, so there must be another chamber for that, a luxury indeed.This room had chairs, two wardrobes, an armor stand and weapon racks, a fireplace, a table already laid with food, and was decorated throughout with rugs and tapestries.
At the desk, back to Lancelot, was Galehaut, attention on something he was reading.Lancelot stepped forward, purposely scuffing his feet on the stone floor before reaching soft, plush rug that would have taken some poor group of people literal years to weave, and they'd likely been paid a pittance to do it.Galehaut's short curls seemed to absorb all the light around them, and he was so tall that if he craned up on his toes, his hair would brush the ceiling.
He was broad—delightfully, distractingly broad—and dressed in court finery that even Lancelot would never be able to match, and as Arthur's right hand, he wanted for very little in life.
Galehaut turned, and the way his face brightened was more than a little gratifying.Lancelot did not know what he had done to garner this man's interest, but he would gladly keep doing it.No one had ever looked at him, spoken to him,surrenderedfor him, like Galehaut."Sir du Lac."
"I think under the circumstances, Your Highness, you can use my name."
"Lancelot."He said it slowly, like savoring a particularly fine piece of meat or sugary sweet, and Lancelot could not help but shiver."Thank you for agreeing to spend this time with me."
"Your Highness, your surrender was worth a thousand of me, and we both know it.Your price was trifling.I hope you've not come to harm for your decision."
Galehaut smiled wryly and lifted one shoulder."I am disowned, my father comes in two days to claim my home and throw me out of it.My people pack what they can for me to take when I leave after your departure.Where I'll go, I've not yet decided.I'm lucky he is not coming to take my head, though some would say expecting me to run like a coward is a far greater insult."
Lancelot scowled."It takes great courage to sacrifice a victory in favor of saving lives, Your Highness.Many men suffer greatly from the sin of pride, and would never sacrifice it to save those they see as beneath them.What you did was smart, brave, and extraordinarily kind.I admire you greatly for it."
"That makes happy hearing," Galehaut said softly, and closed the distance between them.He smelled of sandalwood and cloves, earthy and warm.When he offered a hand, Lancelot took it without hesitation."Would you like breakfast?You must be tired and hungry after days at camp waiting for war, and then traveling here to me."
"Breakfast would be greatly appreciated, thank you."
Instead of leading him to the table, though, Galehaut just drew him in closer still, and rested one of his enormous hands against the side of Lancelot's face, thumb stroking his skin gently."You are truly the most beautiful person I've ever seen."
"You're wealthy enough to afford mirrors, Your Highness," Lancelot replied teasingly in a vain attempt to hide his fluster."You know you're lovelier by far."
"Not even close, Lancelot du Lac," Galehaut whispered, thumb brushing over his lips, shockingly bold in a way nobody else would ever dare be with a knight of Camelot, let alone the captain of those knights."May I take liberty?"
"Take all the liberty you like."
Galehaut kissed him softly, exploring gently, as if still uncertain of his welcome.He was a literal gentle giant, and Lancelot adored him all the more for it.He had always been on the slight side himself, made more for speed and fluidity, a fish perpetually out of water, always loomed over by large, muscular men like Arthur, Percival, and Bertilak.Galehaut wasn't looming though, just big and warm and comforting.
