She only leaned in, pressing her forehead against his collarbone, as if he could shield her from the world.
For a moment more, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing.
And then…
His hands shifted, reluctantly. Purposefully.
They had to move.
Lancelot helped her into the saddle like he had done each morning prior. Careful and steady, but his touch lingered just a second too long.
Neither of them spoke.
The sun had risen, and Camelot awaited.
They rode hard through the night. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.
As the sun crested on the next day, Camelot’s walls were in sight.
Guinevere’s entire body ached, but it dulled compared to the grief that weighed heavily on her heart. She had been gone from the kingdom less than a week… and it felt like her entire being had been cracked open.
Zeus slowed when they passed through the gates until Lancelot pulled him gently to a stop. He slid off the horse, gently circling hishands around the queen’s waist as she followed suit.
“I’m here,” He murmured, placing his hand on the small of her back.
The kingdom still slept, it appeared. A stable hand met them by the barn, taking the horse from them, but other than that, Camelot was quiet.
“Are you hungry?” Lancelot asked as they walked, stepping in time. His hand hadn’t left her back.
She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
Everything happened all at once.
A commotion came from the doors of the castle, a large group of people flooding out of the doors. In the front, her husband, clad in his bedclothes, ran to her.
Her stomach churned as she saw the relief in his eyes.
He crashed into her, arms holding her too tightly, his fingers digging into her skin to the point of pain.
“Easy, brother.” Lancelot’s voice came, and her eyes stung. “We’ve been traveling a long while. She needs rest.”
“I know you aren’t telling me how to greet my wife, du Lac.” Arthur’s voice was tight, tired.
“No, I’m telling you how to treat yourqueen.” She could see him out of the corner of her eye, shoulders tight, hand lingering on his sword.
Gwen pulled back from Arthur, offering a watery smile. “I am tired, king.” She swiped a tear off of her cheek. “And I could use a bath.” She laughed, hoping to ease some of the tension she felt rising between them.
“I’ll come with you, Guinevere.” Arthur leaned forward, pressinga kiss to her forehead. “I have missed you, wife.”
“Can I-” She bit her bottom lip, eyes cast downward. “I’d like-” She couldn’t find the strength in her to ask him for a moment alone. “Thank you, your grace.”
The king grabbed her by the arm, leading her away from the throng of people that had begun to gather.
Recklessly, Gwen looked back over her shoulder to find her knight, watching her walk away with his jaw clenched.
17
As he pushed the door open to her quarters, there were already members of the staff filling her bath up with steaming water.
