Next to my elbow stood Henry, his eyes wide and his face pale.
“What’s happening again?” I asked, crouching so I could look the little boy in the eyes.
“Are they all going to die?” he asked, nodding to the knights who were moving about like a well-oiled machine.
“No, of course not,” I told him, though my voice was high and thready with my own anxiety. “They are going to protect us all from the bad Saxons.”
But Henry didn’t look convinced or comforted by my words, instead he reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. “I am going to help Mama Andrivete in the kitchens, your majesty, would you like to come?”
Somehow, this little boy was trying to soothe away my worries instead of the other way around.
“Sure,” I told him softly, returning the squeeze. “Why don’t you go on ahead and I’ll follow.”
Henry nodded before hurrying off into the main doors of the castle.
“That little one has gone through much,” Bedivere said, seeming to materialize out of nowhere as he spoke.
“He’ll be fine,” I told him with far too much false-brightness in my voice. “We all will.”
Bedivere’s hand pressed into my back, warmth spreading from his palm as he sighed. “I can feel your emotions, sweetling, just as well as you can feel mine.”
His end of the bond was a tangled mass of confusion. The desire to be helpful intermingled with the confusion and worry that such business brought about were all present.
“Are you going to be in the battle?” I asked, suddenly feeling a renewed sense of anxiety at the very idea of him trying to fight with one hand.
But, thankfully, Bedivere shook his head. “No, I shall remain at your side. We have already discussed it. It is better for Merlin and me to remain with you should things…”
He trailed off but I already knew what he meant. It was better for the two of them to stay with me in case the other three members of our pack perished during the battle.
In all of the iterations of the King Arthur myth, Queen Guinevere had somehow stood alone as she watched her beloved pack die—so it soothed something inside of me ever so slightly that I wouldn’t be in this one. The future had changed that much, so that meant I could change it even more, right?
I sure as hell hoped so.
Leaning into Bedivere’s warmth, I continued to watch as the castle was thrown into the chaos of the impending battle, feeling helpless about what I could do to change the fate of the men I loved and of the people who I had grown fond of and wanted to protect.
“Guinevere,” Arthur’s voice pulled me from my misery and I reached for him and let him tug me into his arms.
“Don’t go,” I asked in vain, knowing he had to.
“I love you,” was all he said, as he pressed a kiss to the crown of my head before passing me onto the next alpha.
I repeated myself again as I pressed my nose into Gawain’s neck and inhaled his sage scent. “Please don’t go.”
“We will return to you, my queen,” he promised, accepting a kiss of his own from me.
Finally I turned to Lancelot who still at times held himself apart from our pack, though I could feel his desire to embrace me through our shared bond.
I held my arms open, sighing with relief when he tucked his head into the crook of my neck and held me close. “Stay with me?”
He just shook his head before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “I cannot, but I shall protect them for you.”
I wanted to cry. To throw myself around their legs like a child and refuse to let them go.
But even as the idea sprang to mind, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop them.
Someone at the edge of the courtyard blew a horn, signaling that it was time for the first group of men to head out as the second group finished getting ready for battle and saying goodbye to their own loved ones.
Arthur, Gawain, and Lancelot got back onto their horses, looking grim as they shot me one last look before Arthur turned to the men.
