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“And? What did Lancelet’s mother do?”
“Oh, it was her father, actually. He came outside—he’d been inside reading—and picked up the snotty one and took her inside for a bath. Nothing more. No big fuss.”
“And Lancelet’s mother?” I prodded. “Did she stop the children from fighting?” I hadn’t been to Lancelet’s family home in years. Arthur had so rarely permitted me to visit.
“No, she just ignored them, and in a few moments, they were playing and laughing again. Like children. Like ordinary brothers and sisters. She apologized for the noise, and I said it was fine, and”—he shrugged—“it was fine.”
“And that’s what you want?” I guessed. “A bevy of children? A pig pen?”
I had to admit, I wasn’t sure I was ready for any of that. I didn’t know if I wanted to be a mother. Ever.
He chortled. “Children? We already have it, Morgan. All of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, look around. Who came to Brightwind? Hawl, Lancelet, Galahad, Gawain, Guinevere...”
“A lot of ‘G’ names,” I observed. “We ought to have named our children better.”
“Not to mention Crescent, Sir Ector, Dame Halyna,” he went on, grinning. “And yes, Medra and Kaye. And then there’s Lyrastra and Odessa back in Myntra. And others I’m sure I’ve forgotten. We don’t need a mortal family or a fucked up fae one. We already have our own. Mortal and fae. A little fucked up, sure. But ours.”
He was right.
“We have to protect them,” I said, hands tightening in the sheets. “If my father ever hurt them... If he ever used me to get at them...”
“Ah, now that’s your true fear, isn’t it? Not any guilt or shame you may or may not feel for killing a murderous, treacherous brother you hardly knew. But this. Becoming like your father.”
A lump formed in my throat. “He scares me more than Uther did.”
“But you never let Uther bring you down,” Draven said softly. “You survived. You made sure your family survived, too.”
I nodded.
“You’ll survive Gorlois le Fay, too. We all will.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” I said.
He ran his hands through his hair. “Fine. You’re right. I don’t. Some of us won’t. But most of us will, Morgan. You will.”
“I won’t have you dying for me.”
“That’s not your choice to make,” he said shortly. “And if the gods are willing, we’ll both come out of this. But if I die saving your life, then it’s a choice I’m ready to make.”
“And I for you, you stubborn fucking fae,” I spat.
He shrugged. “We can fight over it. Who dies for who.”
“Very romantic.”
He grinned. “I aim to please.”
“What does he want?” I said out loud.
“He wants you, clearly. And besides you, he wants everything. Everything, Morgan. And we can’t let him have it.”
“Total dominion.” I nodded. That was what Daegen had essentially confirmed. I hesitated. “Do you really think Medra is the key to my father’s downfall as Orcades believed?”
“Not at all,” Draven said almost instantly. “The prophecy is bunk.”
