“Yes. That is true,” Wolf confessed. He saw no reason to lie to the king.
After another short length of time spent talking, Arthur gave them his blessing and then almost took it back when Wolf swept his smile over them in the solar and requested a priest next. He had no intention of waiting a year, six months, or one week. He wanted to marry Camelee now, today, and he wanted to be in her bed tonight.
Thankfully, if it was their daughter’s will, they would do anything to help her.
And so, Wolf found himself facing a priest beneath the vaulted ceiling of the chapel.
Camelee’s family was there, looking deeply troubled but keeping their troubles to themselves.
When the priest announced them husband and wife, he kissed her and the intensity of it shook the glass walls of Avalon.
They were given one of Avalon’s best rooms as long as they gave the sisters approval on most everything they wanted.
They spent an hour with Hild in her room and promised in private that they would always come back. And speaking of coming back, she would spend the night in Queen Genevra’s room and they would see her in the morning. Thankfully, the little girl loved Genevra and went without a quarrel.
“Do you both not want baths?” Viviane asked them as they tried to hurry away from her.
“We will take one together,” he called out.
Camelee laughed and slapped his arm. “You are a barbarian!”
They found the rooms they’d been given for the night easily enough now that every corner didn’t look like a thousand others.
Wolf carried her into the front room and kissed her as he set her down on the oversized velvet chair. He dropped to his knees between hers. Who needed a bed?
He lifted her skirts to her thighs and kissed her bare kneecaps. They both groaned, hungry for each other. He tore his lips from her so that he could bask at her for just a moment, willing his touch, desiring it. In that moment, he wondered if things were done differently a thousand years from now.
Someone knocked at the door. He scowled at it.
“It could be about Hild,” his beloved offered softly.
He hadn’t thought of that and rose to answer it.
“Yes?” he asked, scowling once again, this time at the woman at the door and the row of women behind her all carrying buckets of water. “No!” he refused, holding his hands up to stop their entry. “Not now. Later.” He had no problem giving orders. He wasn’t accustomed to women sizing him up and down as if he were some despicable, filthy thing. He remembered there were no men here.
“But, my lord,” she choked out. “They will have to carry the water back down the stairs, dump it, and boil more when your order comes.”
He could tell she was controlling herself not to say much more.
He nodded and allowed her and the others entry. He turned to Camelee to toss her an apologetic look, but she was smiling at him, her legs tucked under her, elbow perched on the armrest, her chin in her hand.
He smiled back while the women filled the bath in the adjoining room.
“What are you called?” he asked the head of this little army.
“You may call me Beth, my lord,” she answered while keeping her eyes on the other women. “Or do you wish to know who I am so you can complain about me to Lady Viviane?”
“I have nothing to complain about, Beth. If anything, I will be sure to compliment her on your service and the control of temper you possess.”
She blushed a pale shade of red against her alabaster skin at being caught.
“In that case, forgive me for intruding upon you and Princess Camelee.”
He had forgotten his wife’s royal title. How could he?
“It is no intrusion,” the princess assured her.
Beth beamed at her and bowed. “May this night bring you a healthy daughter,” she said, standing up.
