But Bedivere just shook his head. “I will remain with her majesty until she retires.”
Andrivete’s lips pulled down into a pensive smile. “I am fully capable of taking care of her majesty’s needs, Sir Bedivere, and she is safe while she is within the walls of Camelot. As such she does not need your escort.”
Bedivere just shook his head again, his expression still blank. “I will accompany her majesty until she retires this evening.”
Deep in my mind, I was completely tickled by the fact that the older alpha seemed protective over me. After our conversation by the creek the other day there had been no more mention of packs or fate, instead an awkward silence had hung between the four of us that I was too scared to point out.
In most of the romance books I had read as a guilty pleasure, fated mates were supposed to justknowthey were meant to be. In all of the books it was like some kind of switch was flipped and they justknewthey were mates.
Meanwhile, me? I liked the way the other alphas smelled… but their personalities left much to be desired.
Lancelot was too broody and very obviously didn’t want anything to do with me, Bedivere was hard to read at the best of times, and Gawain? I had not been able to stop thinking about the almost kiss we’d shared at the creek.
And then there was his complete avoidance of me afterward. That had hurt my feelings almost as much as Lancelot forcing me to ride with him and then proceeding to ignore me almost entirely.
It was like they were playing a very fucked up game of emotionalyo-yo—except I was theyo-yo.
Then there was Arthur. I had been able to feed my anger over being bonded by him on our wedding night for the first few daysof travel, but by the end of the third day I just wanted to talk to him and ask him what he thought of this entire situation.
He had obviously trusted them enough to protect me, but what about everything else?
I also needed to figure out just when the final battle for Camelot was going to take place and try to fix it.
My mental laundry list of shit I needed to do was growing by the day and I didn’t even have my fancy planner that lived in my work bag to help me.
How the hell was a girl supposed to organize her life with a piece of parchment and a quill? Did they even use parchment and quills in the 6th century?
“Your majesty?” Andrivete’s voice cut through the constant stream of my panicked thoughts. At some point I must have mindlessly followed her into the castle because we were now standing in a sunny corridor in front of a pair of large wooden double doors.
“Sorry?” I said, my face warming. “Where are we again?”
“This is your quarters you will share with his majesty, I assumed you would like to change before we continued our tour of the castle.”
“With Arthur?” I repeated, sounding a bit stupid as I stared at the doors like they could grow fangs at a moment’s notice and swallow me whole. “Do husbands and wives usually share rooms?”
Andrivete’s dark brows drew together in confusion as if my words were foreign to her. “No, your majesty, they share chambers.”
I was already missing the room full of soft linens and sunlight back at Cameliard that had been all mine.
“All right,” I told her, my shoulders sinking as she pulled on the rings and opened the door…
Right into what looked like the most beautiful room I had ever seen.
Despite being built from the same foreboding stone as the rest of the castle it seemed to glow with multiple rainbows thanks to the stained glass filling the much larger than typical windows.
The bed sat up on a stone dais and was a large four poster with a rich, velvet looking cover across the top—it was a far cry from the nest my instincts wanted me to create, but even I had to admit it was the most opulent looking piece of furniture that I had ever seen. Each post had been meticulously carved with various animals and at a glance I could see foxes, owls, and even deer carved into the dark, gleaming wood.
“His majesty has never accepted an omega, so the bedding will need to be replaced, but does it suit your taste?”
I nodded wordlessly as I did a little spin, eyeballing the large blurry mirror and the great wood wardrobe that matched the bed.
Turning back to Andrivete, I pointed at the wardrobe. “There wouldn’t happen to be any clothes that would fit me in there, would there? All of my trunks are still with Arthur and his men.”
“The wardrobe is currently full of his majesty’s clothes, but you are of a size with Sir Agravaine’s wife. It will do until your clothing arrives,” Andrivete said, mostly to herself as she glanced at my shabby clothes. “I understand the men were keeping you safe, but it seems like they also decided to roll you in the mud before presenting you to your new people. I will have a talk with them.”
“Oh, you don’t need to! You know how camping is—dirtier than dirty with a side of dirt—just dunk me in a bath and I will be as good as new,” I said with a shrug, offering her what I hoped was a friendly smile as I glanced around the room for a tub. There had been one in my chambers in Carmeliad, but now as Ilooked around I found none. “Where is the bathtub? I don’t see it here?”
Andrivete’s expression was odd—probably thanks to my strange way of speaking—but she just shook her head. “Our bathing rooms are, ah,uniquein Camelot, your majesty, come with me.”
