Guinevere’s brown eyes widened as she looked at Merlin, a question on her face. She did not seem to know how to respond to the man at all.
Merlin gave her a gentle push. “Go and be careful not to mention anything about time travel to anyone but the people you see here.”
She looked reluctant but still hurried past us, sparing us only a glance as she called out into the woods. “I’m here…Father.”
The name sounded odd coming from those plush lips, like it was something she was unused to uttering.
As soon as she disappeared into the darkness, we were alone again as the lights faded off into the distance once more.
“Merlin…” Arthur began again, his voice full of reproach. “Is there any other way to achieve the gods’ wishes? One that does not include,ah, sharing such an obstinate omega?”
But Merlin shook his head resolutely, his hands clenched into fists. “No. They were abundantly clear, Arthur. If you wish to save Logres, you will do this.”
Angrily, Arthur turned on his heel and stomped out of the clearing, disappearing in the same direction that Guinevere had exited just moments ago.
I moved to follow him but Bedivere stopped me with a look. “I will go after him, it is better if I talk to him instead of you.”
He was right, I knew it, but it still hurt that Bedivere would have more of my king’s trust than I ever would.
After Bedivere left I had no reason to remain behind. Turning to Gawain I pointed at Merlin. “Keep an eye on the wizard,” I bit off the order before hurrying in the opposite direction, needing a moment with my thoughts before I returned to the party.
Leodegrance’s lands were lush—far more than the craggy cliffs of my homeland—and I soon found myself at the edge of a creek just outside of where the merrymaking was still abundant close by.
Cheerful music and laughter found my ears but did little to assuage my tremulous thoughts as I perched on a rock and stared at the dark, flowing water.
“You always look so serious, Lance,” the familiar voice of my little sister soon reached me, pulling me from my brooding.
Vivienne stepped down the rocky bank, nearly skittering on some loose stones as she joined me with a cheeky smile—one so rarely seen these days since she had awakened as an omega.
It was a rarity to see my little sister outside of the castle and I could count on one hand the times that I had seen her since my father sent me away from Benoic to serve under Arthur.
At the time it had been a punishment for disgracing him in front of his knights. I had been young then, but after years of sitting in his cushioned throne my father had grown pliant and fat. It had been easy to best him with swords.
That had been my true folly. A subordinate was never supposed to best their master. I may have been King Ban’s son, but he never wanted me to forget that I was also his servant until he deigned to relinquish his throne to me… if that even occurred in the first place.
After all, two years had passed since my and Vivienne’s mother died and he took a girl eight years younger than me into his bed and gave him another son.
I had never met little Ban Du Lac as he remained in Benoic with his mother, but it would be unsurprising if the infant became our father’s heir instead.
“I am in no mood for silliness, Vivienne,” I grumbled to my sister but held my hand out to help her onto my rock anyway.
Vivienne was the picture of our mother, the childish plaits she used to wear as a girl long gone along with other signs of her change into a young woman. The soft cheeks and freckled nose had been replaced by powders and rouge that made her look feverish rather than like the blushing maid that father had wanted her to look like.
All to gain Arthur’s favor.
Most kings would have jumped at the chance to have such a young, compliant omega in their bed without having to fight for them.
But Arthur was not most kings.
That had become abundantly clear almost immediately upon meeting him.
“You are always in the mood for silliness from your own sister, Brother,” Vivienne told me imperiously as she stared out at the dark water quietly for a moment before speaking again. “Youdo know that I did not wish to marry Arthur, right? Princess Guinevere will be a much better match for a king like him.”
I angled a glance in her direction. “And what do you know of Princess Guinevere, tot?”
Vivienne scrunched her pretty nose at my childhood nickname. “I know that she is brave and kind, Lance, and she will make a good queen for King Arthur’s Camelot.”
I snorted at that. Her words were just the machinations of magic that neither she nor I understood. The gods were mysterious beings to be sure, but if they felt it was my fate to encroach on my master’s bond with his fated omega, then they were going to be full of discontent with me soon.
