“Be at peace, you four. Even if I wished to do so, I have a feeling my daughter would have some very strong opinions about such things. Regardless, Cameliard will stand with Camelot in the upcoming battle, as will our other allies. You can rest assured we will not allow the Saxon scourge to take over our lands, nor will we allow Saxon sympathizers to flourish here either,” Leodegrance finished, his expression stern.
“I thank you on behalf of Camelot,” I said and would have offered him the customary half-bow that was exchanged between kings, but the omega sleeping on my chest was making that very difficult.
Leodegrance’s face softened ever so slightly. “Please protect not only her person, but also her heart. I cannot bear to see her in any more pain than I already have today.”
With that, the king shot his daughter one last, gentle look before leaving.
“The Saxons pose a significant threat to her and the rest of our people,” Lancelot said, sitting up with a grunt as his gaze never left Guinevere’s face.
“As I said before, we have time to gather our forces,” Bedivere repeated as he perched on the end of the bed.
“Will it be enough?” Gawain asked, his voice betraying none of the anxiety I could feel echoing through his end of the bond.
“It must be enough,” I told them decisively. “Or else I fear the fate we are fighting so hard for will be cut short before we can truly enjoy it.”
In my arms Guinevere began to stir.
Chapter Forty-One
My limbs ached fiercely when I finally awoke again.
It felt as if I had been run over by several monster trucks and then they had subsequently backed over me for good measure.
But there were two glaring problems with such a thing like that to happen though.
For one: if Ihadbeen run over by even one truck I doubted I would have lived to tell the tale, and for two: monster trucks didn’t exist in Arthurian England.
A soft groan left my lips as the familiar twist of heat cramps made me wince. “I thought I was done with this,” I mumbled, my words muffled by cloth.
“Not quite yet, little queen,” the soft purr of my husband filled my ears.
Jerking the rest of the way awake, my eyes flew open and I stared up at Arthur’s face.
“You’re you?” I asked, trying to conjure up the hazy memory of what had occurred before I fell unconscious.
I could remember Merlin’s soft lips and the smell of smoke, but everything else was a muddled blur.
“I am me,” Arthur confirmed, his words soft. “Everything is as it should be in Camelot again thanks to you, my queen.”
Pushing against his chest, I let him help me sit up only to find the rest of my pack, save Merlin, surrounding us in our bedchamber.
Lancelot, who looked better than he had in days, offered me the ghost of a smile but I could feel his excitement through the bond. Even if his face didn’t show it, it was obvious that he was happy to see me awake.
“It wasn’t me. Bedivere and Gawain are really the ones who did all of the hard work,” I pointed out a bit sheepishly. I wasn’t used to being praised for such things.
But Arthur just shook his head and gathered my face in his warm, dry hands. “They will be rewarded handsomely for their efforts, my love, but you were the reason they knew what to do at all.”
His lips were soft as they pressed to mine and I was reminded of my current predicament as a gush of slick coated my inner thighs and a small moan left my lips.
Hands—I wasn’t sure who they belonged to—kneaded into my back, working out the stiffness as Arthur’s tongue meshed with mine.
“I shall apologize over and over again, love, I am sorry,” he murmured against my mouth and I could feel his guilt down the bond.
“It’s okay,” I told him, resting my forehead against his so I could look into his blue eyes. “Just promise me you’ll never leave me again.”
I knew his promise would be empty unless I changed the fate set before us, but Arthur didn’t know that and he nodded.
“I promise with my very soul, Guinevere, thatwewill never leave you again.”
