Gawain’s brows rose as he looked from his horse to me and back to the horse again. “Never? What did you use to travel distances?”
“Cars, trains, and planes?” I answered unhelpfully, not sure how to explain a great metal machine on four wheels that runs on gasoline. Would he even know what gasoline was? I highly doubted it. “Just show me how to get on and I’ll figure it out from there.”
Gawain shuffled uncomfortably, looking down at his boots as his ears, which were peeking out from underneath his curly brown hair, started to turn red.
“What?” I asked ducking so I could get a better look at his face. “Is it that embarrassing to help me?”
“No, your majesty,” Gawain hurried to say, straightening as he seemed to make an internal decision. “It is just—”
He stopped and sighed once before reaching out for my hips and lifting me off of the ground in one swift motion.
Swallowing the squeal that was bubbling up in my throat, I was suddenly placed at the front of the leather saddle. Reaching out, I held onto the little horn at the top to keep myself from falling backwards and glared down at the man who was still holding onto my waist. “Some warning would have been nice.”
“Apologies, your majesty,” Gawain said, though I could see a little sparkle of mischief in the man’s blue eyes that told me that he’d enjoyed my discomfort.
“Call me Gwen,” I told him, not liking all of the‘your majesties’being thrown my way.
I had barely gotten used to the‘your highnesses’and now I had a new title and a new reverence.
Queen of Camelot.
I snorted inwardly at that. It was more like the queen of a fate doomed to watch everyone around me die. Again.
I wasn’t sure who I had pissed off so much in another life, but it was getting ridiculous at this point.
At the flicker of unease that I was suddenly filled with, I felt something brush along the edges of my mind and the bondmark on my neck started to throb.
I vaguely remembered Arthur placing it there before I fell asleep last night. At the time, I’d been totally content with it. It felt like I finally belonged somewhere and the bite that he’d nursed with the flat of his tongue was proof of that.
But in the cold light of day I realized exactly what he’d done and the anger came after that.
Clamping down on my end of the bond, I cut Arthur off and watched as the man flinched in the distance where he’d been fiddling with the saddle of the great black horse he told me was called Llamrei.
I ignored his gaze and turned to find a suddenly bashful Gawain whose entire face had turned red at this point.
It was sort of cute the way he seemed to get flustered at the drop of a hat. As far as I knew Gawain was a warrior just as the more stoic Bedivere and the ever-broody Lancelot were—but everything about the man seemed softer and more… sensitive almost? It was endearing right off of the bat and it reminded me of the boys I used to date in college. The sort that would read you poetry and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
“I am not allowed to do so, your majesty, for I am just a loyal knight,” he hurried to say as he quickly put a foot in the stirrup of the saddle and slid in behind me.
We both knew that he wasn’tjusta knight and the warmth of his chest on my back really drove that point home.
I was starting to think it was a mistake to ride with this alpha and wondered what the hell Arthur had been thinking.
While he’d been a few feet away, the smell of smoke from the early morning fires and wet dew on the grass around us hadmasked his scent, but now that he was right behind me and pressing up against me the scent of musky sage hit my nose and I couldn’t help but rest my entire body against him and let myself relax.
I wanted to remind him of what Merlin had said, but I still wanted to talk to Arthur again and try to figure out how all of this would work and if he even wanted it to work. Most alphas outside of a pack in my time weren’t keen on sharing either, so it wouldn’t surprise me if the alpha-iest man I had ever met didn’t want to either.
Gawain’s hands were soft on my shoulders as he gripped them, seemingly unsure of what he was supposed to do as he seemed to be smelling me just as much as I was smelling him right now.
I straightened suddenly, reminded of where I was. If I wasn’t careful I would end up being accused of adultery and put to death like the much darker iterations of the King Arthur myth had ended.
“Gawain,” a stern voice said from behind us as Bedivere trotted up on a gray mare, his silver eyes taking in our positions before Gawain also stiffened and sat up, grabbing the reins in front of me as if that was what he’d been meaning to do the entire time.
“Why is her majesty riding with you instead of with the king?” the older man asked.
Bedivere had obviously missed my very public argument with Arthur only moments ago and his eyes seemed to follow the line of Gawain’s arms as they bracketed me in on either side, keeping me on the horse.
I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn’t sure what the hell I could say that would explain our blushing faces. Guilt filled me at Gawain’s sudden stiffness and I knew that the coming reprimand from Bedivere would be hard, so I felt the need to defend him.
