“Get me down,” Morgana snapped at one of my men as she wiggled her fingers demandingly. Once her feet were firmly on the ground she straightened her rumpled skirts and put the never-changing regal mask she was famed for on her pinched features. “Arthur, must you have ridden ahead like that? I thought we could enter together seeing as we are kin…”
She trailed off, her eyes moving from me to the omega tucked under my arm. “Ah, my new sister! I have longed to see you again and I feel so blessed to be able to see you so soon after your marriage.”
Guinevere stiffened her eyes flicking up to mine as indignation filled her end of the bond.
It did not take a scholar to understand the omega’s emotions, hells, I was feeling similarly.
And so did my people, it seemed, because Morgana’s flippant use of the word sister was ruffling their feathers as they turned to whisper to each other about the disrespect.
Morgana’s gaze moved over them and chilled, seeming to silence them in an instant as she returned her sights to my omega. “It also seems you have forgotten your footwear, how astonishingly darling of you.”
Her tone was sharp and there could be no mistaking the hostility within it.
When I was a much younger king I had relied on Morgana’s counsel as I was just grateful to meet someone who was related by blood to me. I had done so against not only Merlin’s advice, but also the advice of Sir Ector and Bedivere.
I was only a young king of ten and seven when I allowed for goods from a still-fledgling Camelot to be traded with Lothian for seedlings that would never sprout. That had been one of my hardest lessons to learn and it had also been one of the hardest winters we had ever experienced.
Morgana was kept at an arm’s length after that and it seemed she was now choosing to forget that, as my queen, Guinevere outranked her within the walls of my castle.
Even if she was not wearing shoes.
I glanced down at my omega’s feet which were, indeed, standing on the bare gravel, one adorably resting atop of the other as she glared at the woman despite her state of undress.
“Bare feet or no, Morgana,” I said, returning the favor of her disrespect, “Guinevere is still a queen on par with you—and the queen of my people.”
“Yeah!” Guinevere chimed in, her voice full of a blazing anger that vibrated down our shared bond. “So suck it!”
Overhead the previously golden evening began to darken as clouds gathered and rain began to fall overhead.
“Rain?” one of my people said as they held a hand out to catch the water coming from the sky. “But there was not a cloud in the sky all day!”
“Mama?” Another, much smaller voice asked, “What does‘suck it’mean?”
“I do not know, pet, perhaps it is common in Cameliard.”
“Are all of the people from there so strange?”
“Hush,” the woman chastised.
I hardly paid any attention to them, though, as I continued to stare my half-sister down.
Morgana’s pale cheeks flushed with anger as her purple eyes flashed with an unholy glow as she glared at my wife before frowning, seemingly perturbed as she finally gave in and slanted her head in a half-acknowledgement.
“Your majesty, it is a pleasure to meet you again, thank you for so graciously welcoming us into your home after our group was so brutally attacked by the savage Saxons.”
Guinevere snorted softly before inclining her head in return. “It is nice to see you again as well, though I hope you and your son are able to return to your home safely soon. I know you must feel much more comfortable there.”
I was surprised at Guinevere’s ability to trade barbs with Morgana who had been famous for her silver tongue long before she became the queen of Lothian.
The rain began to grow heavier and with it my exhaustion seemed to press into my shoulders, reminding me that I hadhardly slept in the past few days and I was liable to drop if I did not return to my bedchambers and soon.
Slipping my arm down Guinevere’s back, I hugged her to me and lifted her off of her bare feet.
“Hey!” she squeaked, her hands gripping my shoulders as I turned on my heel, trying to ignore just how the motion was pulling at the wound on my side.
I ignored her protests and looked to my foster-brother, the only sibling I truly recognized. “Sir Kay, make sure our guests have a room in the eastern wing and that they are fed. I expect a report on the happenings from while I was away in the morning.”
“Yes, your majesty,” Kay called from behind me and I could hear the barely concealed laughter in his voice.
