In any case, I was trying not to think of her as I turned the corner down the corridor that led to Arthur’s chambers. As I drew nearer, I couldn’t help but feel as if my presence would be useless to the king. It was not as if I could heal him at this point.
With a sigh, I raised a fist and rapped on the door.
“Arthur?” I called, feeling suddenly uncertain. “I am here to look at your wound.”
The buzzing in my chest grew louder as a sense of awareness filled the silence that followed my words.
Then, Arthur’s gruff voice spoke, muffled by the wood. “You may enter.”
I pulled on the handle and stepped inside of the room, my eyes widening at the scene before me.
It was just as it had been in the flash of a vision that gods had shared with me the night I left Camelot. Arthur stood with Guinevere hugged to his front and the pair was framed by the roaring fire in the massive fireplace. Guinevere even wore the same contemplative expression, and her dark brows furrowed as her gaze left Arthur’s face to find me.
A wave of dizziness filled me as the buzzing stopped abruptly, having completed its task.
Can you hear me?Her voice came to me loud and clear, making me jump.
With Juneau and Eleanor, they had only ever been able to speak back to me if I allowed it, but Guinevere was doing it with ease and without my express permission.
Our minds felt almostsuitedto one another in a way I was not accustomed to. Curiosity sparked and I imperceptibly nodded my head.
Brown eyes narrowed before Guinevere stepped away from Arthur and turned back to face the still-open cabinet.Can you heal him?
Her question rang in my head as Arthur spoke out loud. “I believe I told you to eat first, Merlin, you look as if a stray wind could blow you right over.”
“And believe me, I feel worse,” I told him, my voice dry. “At the moment I am uncertain whether I can heal that wound with my magic for it still feels depleted, Arthur, I’m sorry.”
My words answered both Guinevere’s question and responded to Arthur’s worry.
“It is no matter,” Arthur said, shaking his head as he glanced down at the gash on his side. “It is not something that common remedies cannot mend.”
I glanced over at Guinevere, watching her full lips pinch together as she glared at her hands.
Then the liquids in the jars behind her began to shake.
I had long since assumed that Guinevere, like her other omega counterparts that I had pulled through time, also possessed some sort of magic. Ever since her arrival the propensity for rain on cloudless days had risen and it had become abundantly clear to me that the omega possessed at least some affinity for water.
Do you want to help me?I asked, thinking about the shock of magic I felt the night I brought her here and how it had chased away the weakness in my limbs.
Guinevere jumped, turning to face me fully.How?
The question was simple, though nothing about what I was about to suggest would be.
I glanced over at Arthur. “Arthur, what if I told you that Guinevere could help me heal you?”
Arthur frowned, his red-gold beard twitching as he did so.
“Elaborate,” he ordered, glancing from Guinevere to me.
“The night of her arrival, when I was weak, her touch reinvigorated me, why do you think that is?”
If Arthur did not appreciate my testing him, he did not show it as he scratched his chin contemplatively.
“Because Guinevere has magic,” he finally said, filling in the blank as he looked over at his wife. “Is that why the sky always seems to leak around you?”
“It doesn’t leak!” Guinevere’s voice was defensive as she crossed her arms over her chest. “ButmaybeI’ve noticed some weird things happening with water lately.”
You are also able to speak into my mind,I pointed out to her silently and watched as her shoulders stiffened slightly.
