“Never say that again.” Her breath caught. His hands were gentle, but his body radiated a rage that was barely leashed. “I’ll kill him, Guinevere, and I will relish watching the light flicker from his deadened eyes.”
Another sob escaped her as she buried her face in his tunic. He smelt of sweat and grass, he smelt likehimself.“Don’t-” Her breath hitched.
“I’ve got you.” The words were quiet. Steady. Absolute.
And then he stood.
He lifted her like she weighed nothing — no ceremony, no performance. Justpurpose. His arms beneath her legs and back, one hand cradling her shoulder as though the mere idea of her slipping was unbearable. In his arms, she was safe.
Her cheek fell against his chest, where his heartbeat thundered.
Unshaken.
A hush had fallen over the yard below.
Everyone below had heard her cry out.
Seen him vanish up the steps like a man possessed.
And now…
Now they watched Lancelot descend the stairs with their queen in his arms.
His jaw was tight, expression unreadable, but his grip saideverything. The way he held her like she was precious.
Sacred.
Untouchable.
Not even Arthur moved.
Guinevere felt it — the shift in the air. No longer just whispers of rebellion, but something else.
A reckoning.
She closed her eyes, let the ache and the panic bleed out of her into him.
Let herself be carried.
They were halfway across the yard before Arthur spoke. “Touching,” the king called, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “Truly, Sir Lancelot, your devotion knows no bounds.”
But her knight didn’t stop, didn’t even flinch. He adjusted his grip on her — holding her closer, tighter.
“I do hope,” Arthur continued, nearer now than he was a moment ago, “That you fight as fiercely as you cling to her. It would be a pity if your loyalty outlived your life.”
Her fingers clenched into his tunic once more, shutting her eyes tightly. But Lancelot kept walking, even as a chill swept through the air.
Past the knights.
Weaving around the whispers.
Straight through the threat.
His eyes were level, looking ahead. He never faltered. It would take more than words to shake the Queen’s champion.
He didn’t stop until they were behind their chamber door. The lock slid into place behind them.
44
