AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I am quite aware.” Mordred propped his elbows on the metal table and stared down at the metal map once more, attempting to will the knowledge of Grinn’s location into his mind. “What would you have me do? What choice would you make? I cannot hunt the demon and leave her here. The keep is not secure enough—traitors are everywhere. I cannot take her with me, it is too dangerous. I cannot set her free upon Avalon.”
Galahad’s shoulders slumped. “I do not have a suggestion. Only that I would not give her up.”
“You have always sought to lay your sword down for your morality. I am well aware.” Mordred reached for his goblet of wine—another old friend—and sipped it. “Pardon me if I do not wish to suffer such a tragic and melodramatic death.”
“I am simply stating a fact. I do not think my heart could survive the loss. With Zoe, and the Iron Crystal, I always held onto hope that I might see her again. But to return her to Earth is ensuring that is no longer a possibility.” Galahad poured himself a third cup of wine.
Mordred would be concerned if he had not seen the fae put down an entire cask of wine in a sitting and be hardly the worse for wear. “I spoke naught of the survival of my heart. It goes with her.” He turned his attention back to the map of Avalon. “This shall be my last stand. I have lost my desire to fight for a land that despises me.”
Galahad watched him, the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes creasing deeper than usual. Mordred had no concept of how old the Knight in Gold was. He had been an elder fae when he had found Arthur and his ragtag group of mortals. And fae, by Mordred’s knowledge, hardly aged at all—if at all. The man might be as old as humanity itself.
And yet he looked up on Mordred with…empathy. Sadness. Pity.
Some of him was thankful for it.
But most of him despised it. Mordred stood from the table and headed for the door. “I am tired. You shall see her home.” After a pause, he added, “Tell her she can take the dog with her.” He did not wait for Galahad to reply.
There was no point.
It was just as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon that Gwen sat down at the small desk in her room, picked up the quill pen there, and wrote Mordred a letter. There was no way she would be able to form the right words to him on the cusp of going home.
She didn’t know how she was meant to get back home. Maybe it was a portal. Maybe it was giant eagles—honestly, it didn’t matter.
This was farewell.
And even if she didn’t have the nerve to tell him face to face how she felt, she knew that if she didn’t tell him, she’d never forgive herself for as long as she lived.
Eod, sensing her dismay, was sitting at her side with his giant, heavy head plonked on her lap, those big eyes watching her with a look of innocent concern. She petted his head as she wrote. Quill pens were annoying, and she left little blots of ink all over the page, but she managed to figure it out and still make the letter legible. She noticed pretty quickly that there was a powder she could shake onto the page and then shake back off that took care of all the excess ink. And she had a lot of excess ink.
All in all, it was an awkward and messy process. No wonder ballpoint pens were invented.
After making sure the ink wasn’t going to smear all over the place, she folded it up and added “To Mordred” on the outside of it before using the fancy wax sealer to hold it shut. How cute. She’d never got to use one of those before.
Her mind was focusing on every little thing. Every small action. It was like she was about to go in for surgery—or for execution. In an hour, her life would change drastically again, and she would never see her friends or the man she loved, ever again.
It took every ounce of willpower she had not to burst into tears. So, she latched onto the little things. Getting dressed. Brushing her hair. She decided she was going to steal the small hand mirror that was in the room as a memento. She’d have the dog as proof of her visit, but animals…weren’t permanent, no matter how much she wished they were. Tucking the ornate hand mirror into the back of her dress, she sat on the edge of the bed and petted Eod until there was a quiet knock on her door.
“Come in.”
It was Galahad. He had to duck under the jamb to enter the room. He was dressed in his full golden armor, his white cape draping elegantly down his back. He carried his helm underneath his arm. There was a grim and sad expression on his wizened features.
Letting out a breath, she stood, feeling like she was walking to the gallows.
“It is time,” Galahad said simply, standing aside to gesture to the door.
Part of her was glad that the Knight in Gold was going to be there. She walked up to him and hugged him. “Thank you. For being a good friend.”
He returned the gesture. “My soul weeps at your departure, Lady Gwendolyn.”
Lady Gwendolyn. Princess Gwendolyn. But pretty soon? She’d just be Gwen Wright. Lost and returned home with a lot of explaining to do. Taking in a deep breath, she let it out in a wavering, shaky exhale. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Of course.”
Eod walked up to Galahad, his tail swishing hopefully. He licked the knight’s hand, as if to ask, “Galahad make better?”
No, Galahad no make better.
“Mordred has given you a mighty task, Eod. He has declared you the guardian of Lady Gwendolyn upon her journey.” The enormous knight knelt to pet the dog before placing a kiss to the top of the animal’s head. “She is your responsibility now. You are her knight and her protector.”
