Then his voice hardened again as he addressed the crowd. “Any who are not my people may leave—it is high time Camelothad no guests again so that I may enjoy my new marriage with my wife.”
Several voices began to argue but Arthur ignored them all, lifting his voice so that he could be heard by all. “It was not a request but an order, or would you like to see what the steel of my knights feels like? Though I may be magnanimous, I am still the king here and my men will respond in kind to such disrespect towards me.”
At that, the sound of swords unsheathing filled the courtyard.
Lot’s men shifted uncomfortably, their hands moving to the pommels of their swords but Morgana lifted a hand to stop them.
It was not lost on me that the woman seemed to be the one calling the shots and not her husband.
“We will go, Brother.” I felt Arthur stiffen at her casual way of referring to him. “But I do hope you will come for your only nephew’s wedding once it is planned.”
Ban and Lot’s men began to trickle out of the courtyard and as I watched Lancelot’s father reach out to yank Vivienne by the arm—presumably to drag her with him—I stepped out of Arthur’s arms and in their path.
“To answer your question,” I told Ban, only looking at his daughter who was wide-eyed with fear as her eyes ping-ponged from Arthur to the men who still held their swords aloft. “I do need a lady-in-waiting. Princess Vivienne would be most welcome to stay in Camelot with me.”
Ban’s eyes lit up with triumph, but I did not care what the man thought, I just knew that this girl needed protection from whatever fate her father and Morgana seemed to be weaving for her.
“I do not believe—” Lancelot began to argue, probably still thinking I would bite the poor girl’s head off for daring to be an omega in my castle, but Arthur’s growl stopped him.
“Sir Lancelot, you would do well not to go against your queen’s wishes. If she desires for the princess to stay, then stay she shall.”
Ban released Vivienne’s wrist. “Then I shall—”
“You will leave, King Ban, as I am sure your territory misses your governance dearly.” Arthur’s tone brooked no argument.
The two kings stared each other down, one past his prime and the other practically oozing with power before Ban finally inclined his head and left both of his children behind without so much as a goodbye.
Arthur jumped into king-mode, doling out tasks with a finesse I was jealous of. “Lancelot, you will see Lady Andrivete and have her settle your sister in, Bedivere, please take a group of men to make sure our guests make it to the border of our territory without further…interference, and, Guinevere, will you please see to Gawain’s injuries?”
“Will you be okay here?” I asked, eyeballing where Ban was now speaking quietly with Morgana.
Arthur cupped my face in his hands, his thumb tracing a soft circle on my jaw. “Yes, now go or I fear you will conjure a snowstorm next.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I mumbled.
Arthur’s chuckle vibrated through his chest. “I was ‘joking’ as you say, little queen, now go before Gawain leaks all of the blood in his body from that cut over his eye.”
I whirled around to find Gawain looking decidedly more pale than before, though there was still a dopey smile on his face.
He held out the crook of his elbow to me as if he was about to escort me to a ball and not to treat the cut on his face and I accepted it wearily, worried the swaying alpha would drop at any moment.
“It doesn’t seem to be stopping,” I told Gawain later as I pressed a cloth to the cut over his eye which had started to swell purple. “I’msosorry for hitting you.”
I had apologized over and over since we made it to Gawain’s chambers, a small room filled with comfortable looking furniture. His lute, which I hadn’t seen since my wedding, lay against the wall next to the small fireplace.
“It is no matter, Gwen,” Gawain said, seeming to bask in my attention. “Though I do think I prefer your rain.”
“Me too,” I told him dryly as I pulled the cloth away, frowning as the blood welled up again.
Then my eyes caught the already forming bruise on the side of his neck, trailing underneath his shirt.
“Take it off,” I said, nodding at the tunic shirt.
Gawain shot me a goofy grin. “Your majesty, I am but a youth, you must treat my feelings and my body delicately.”
I rolled my eyes. Apparently none of these alphas could take anything seriously today. “Take it off so I can see your wounds, you dolt.”
Still smiling, Gawain pulled his tunic over his head, revealing a roadmap of bruises and welts along his shoulders and back from being battered by my ice. When I reached out to touch them Gawain hissed with pain.
