Reflect- Snow White Retold

by Demelza Carlton

  So Lancelot truly did not know. "But Xylander is my brother. Marriage to me would make you his brother-in-law. A man who will never be far from his thoughts, because Xylander will worry that I am unhappy."

  As she would be, trapped in a loveless marriage. But…hadn't he just said…?

  "Your…brother? Your brother is the new king?" Lancelot dropped to his knees. "My queen, I beg your forgiveness. I did not know. I will go to the King, and confess everything. Perhaps…perhaps he will do me the favour of granting me a quick death, if you would intercede on my behalf. I cannot ask for more."

  He half rose, and Guinevere yanked him back down, landing in the mud beside him. "Don't be a fool! You can't go off without giving me answers. I deserve that much."

  Lancelot turned anguished eyes to her. "Of course, my queen. What do you wish to know?"

  The words didn't want to come out, but she forced them out. "My wedding night. How did you know?"

  He reddened. "Perhaps you do not remember, but I stood guard outside your door that night. And…I listened…"

  He'd listened to the King reject her and then start snoring. While she'd had her eyes closed, thinking of Lancelot. Guinevere's cheeks warmed, and she remembered Lancelot staring at her before Artorius had closed the door.

  "What did he say to you that night?" she asked.

  "He made me swear that if anything ever happened to him, I was to protect you, and not let anyone send you back to where you had come from. It was the last thing he said to me, and I could not disregard his dying wish." Lancelot met her eyes. "Even if it costs me my head."

  No other man had ever been willing to sacrifice his life for her. A sacrifice she did not deserve. She could not let this man die to protect her. Xylander needed good men like Lancelot. If only she could spend the rest of her life with such a man, but his loyalty to his king came first, while a wife would always be a distant second.

  "I absolve you of your oath. I will return to my father's kingdom willingly, and I'll tell my brother in the morning." Guinevere managed a smile. "My father is no longer king, if my other brother, Lubos, has taken the throne. He undoubtedly wishes to betroth me to someone, in order to rebuild the alliances my father destroyed in his madness. Some old man, who wants an obedient, young wife to give him heirs of royal blood. Or maybe just one who will keep his castle for him, and help to raise his existing children." Her heart constricted at the thought, but she knew it was pointless to resist. She was born a princess, a political pawn to be sacrificed for the good of the crown. If only Lancelot truly had married her. Only then could she stay.

  Lancelot shook his head. "I swore to protect you with my last breath, and I shall. Even if it is from yourself, and your own brother. I will challenge him for you, for he will not take you from here while I draw breath. So I swore to my king, and I will not be forsworn."

  Stupid, honourable fool! What man would rather die than break his oath? It would break her heart to leave him, but it would grieve her even more to lose him. Heaven help her, but she was in love with the man.

  "Marry me." The words left her lips before she could consider them, and yet, she did not wish to call them back. "Marry me in truth, and live."

  Desire flared in his eyes, hot enough to melt iron. Yet a moment later, it was gone, as if it had never been.

  "My queen, I am not worthy. My king chose you as his bride, and I am merely a knight, risen in his service. How could I bring myself to sully the purity he made me promise to preserve?"

  She'd been the widow he wanted. How had she not guessed until now? Now that it was too late. Unless...

  Inspiration struck. "But I'm not your queen. I never truly was. The marriage wasn't consummated, remember? I am a maiden still." She swallowed. "When I lay in the bed beside Artorius, fearful of my wedding night, I closed my eyes and thought of you."

  He stared at her. "Me? Why in heaven's name would you do that?"

  Her cheeks burned. "I thought…if it had been you instead of him, I could endure it. If I imagined his hands were yours, that it was you touching me, inside me, I could bear it, nay, even enjoy, my wedding night." Why did she suddenly feel naked, with his eyes on her like that?

  "Truly?" Hope kindled in his eyes, then died. "But your brothers – kings, both of them – would never allow you to marry a lowly knight."

  "Actually, Xylander urged me to consider you, instead of Artorius, when we first arrived." She willed her cheeks to cool, but they would not. "Foolishly, I insisted a king would protect me better from my father's men than his most valued knight. I was wrong." She wet her lips. "Marry me, and I will tell my brother all you have done to protect me, out of loyalty to your king. I will keep your castle, be your chatelaine, while you continue to serve your king. Xylander needs good men, and you are the best."

  Hope rose a third time, and this time it stayed. "And what would you ask in return for all this?"

  "Me?"

  "You offer me much, and even more to your brother. What is your price for all of this?"

  Guinevere laughed shakily. "A princess is without price. I am a pawn, a prize, someone to be handed over to the winner in a game of politics. I don't get to ask, or to answer. My fate is to submit, to offer my body in service to whoever my brothers or my father deem worthy." Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped them away. "I am a woman, and my fate will be the same, whether I am a shepherd's wife or a queen. For my husband, I must lie back, spread my legs and bear his babies. Until it kills me." She wept freely now, remembering her mother, whose bed was barely cold before her father had popped a new wife into it.

  Lancelot's arms encircled her, protective as always, as he pressed her face against his chest. Gentle hands stroked her hair as she only cried harder, wishing she could stop.

  "You must think me ungrateful," she sobbed. "I have never wanted for anything, never gone hungry, never had to do more than choose which gown to wear. My father, my brothers, you, even Artorius, always took such good care of me. And I know I must pay the price for that. But sometimes I wish…" She sobbed harder, unable to finish. He would think her as mad as her father, to wish for what could never be. For women to choose their fate as much as men chose their own. To live free…

  His voice rumbled beneath her cheek. "If you had one wish for yourself, what would it be?"

  For herself? Guinevere almost laughed through her tears. Freedom was not for her. Finally, she lifted her head and said, "I would wish to stay. Here, with you. Where I might finish training those falcons, fly Sir Gawain every day, and one day share a cup of your very valuable berry wine with you when our first child is born."

  Lancelot laughed. "You could marry a king, or a prince, who would give you wine and hawks aplenty. When any other man could give you a throne and a crown, why would you choose me?"

  He already knew her secret, so Guinevere did not know why her cheeks flamed again. "I never asked for a throne or a crown. I wished for loyalty and love, the happiness of a home. All these things you have already given to me. I choose you, because of all the men who might take me to their bed, yours is the only face I will see. You are the only man I desire. You, and only you."

  He kissed her then, the heat of his lips melting hers as she gasped. His tongue stroked hers, as if to tempt her with what it would feel like if his body lay atop hers. She let out a tiny moan of longing. He took that as a signal to kiss her even harder, stealing the very breath from her lungs, until she had to tear her lips from his lest she swoon from lack of air.

  He grinned, then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted for a horse.

  She stared up at him dizzily. "I do not understand." She'd admitted she desired him, something women were not supposed to do, and instead of answering her with words after that searing kiss, he'd demanded a horse?

  "If we don’t seek out a priest this very afternoon, I fear I will not have the fortitude to carry you inside, and even now I am tempted to make this lake shore our marriage bed."

  Guinevere gave a nod. Y
es. They had waited long enough.

  She let him lift her onto his horse, before he climbed up behind her, then set off at a gallop for the church.

  Forty-Seven

  The feel of her soft body pressed against his almost unmanned him, but Lancelot merely tightened his arm around her waist and urged his horse on. The sooner they were married, the sooner he could start satisfying the desire he'd seen in her eyes when they'd kissed. He did not deserve a queen like her, but if he was what she wanted, then who was he to refuse her?

  The priest had just sat down to an early dinner when they arrived, but a bag of coins and the promise of a whole goose to replace the stringy leg that sat on his trencher soon had him scrambling up to perform whatever service Lancelot required.

  Lancelot repeated the vows after the priest, not remembering a word of them, so intent was he on the fever-bright eyes of Guinevere as she promised to be his wife.

  It was a good thing the horse knew his way home, for Lancelot could think of nothing but the woman before him – his wife! – all the way back to the castle. He lifted Guinevere from the horse, and once he had her in his arms, he had no intention of ever letting go.

  Forty-Eight

  He'd bathed, he'd changed, he'd eaten…yet Xylander felt there was something else he needed to do. He wasn't satisfied with the knight's story. And Guinevere…something about the way she'd stood there, saying she wanted to stay, reminded him of the girl she'd been before their mother died, and Father went mad. But she was so much more than that girl now. She'd looked like the kingdom's rightful queen, not Zurine.

  Yet when she'd spoken, it had been about birds.

  Circe had been the name of Mother's gyrfalcon, he remembered now. The bird had terrified him, after it had nipped his finger, but Guinevere had wanted to take Circe hunting. Mother had promised she might, when she was old enough, but then Mother had fallen ill and all her promises had died with her.

  Perhaps the birds, and the memories they held, had brought life to Guinevere again. But for how long? Xylander could not settle until he knew his sister was safe.

  He drained his cup of wine and set it on the table. He would find her, and speak to her alone, without the interfering knight around. Her husband, if he was to be believed.

  Guinevere would not lie to him. If she wanted a bird, or a whole flock of them, Xylander would give them to her, and cage them up to take them home with her. Lubos would not begrudge her some birds.

  He beckoned to the servant. "Find Guinevere, and tell her I wish to speak with her."

  The maid nodded and trotted off.

  It was some time before the maid returned, her cheeks flushed from hurrying to do his bidding. But Guinevere wasn't with her.

  "Where is she?" Xylander demanded.

  The maid bobbed a deep curtsey, keeping her head bowed so she wouldn't have to meet his eyes. "Queen Guinevere is resting, and not to be disturbed. When she is ready, I shall give her your message, Your Majesty."

  The knight – Lancelot – was behind this, Xylander was sure of it. He'd given the order to keep Guinevere from speaking to him. Well, to blazes with that. A king outranked a knight – that much, Xylander knew for certain.

  "Where is she?" he repeated. "Show me to her chamber!"

  The girl squirmed uncomfortably. "This was her chamber, Your Majesty, until you arrived. There is only one royal bedchamber, so the master ordered her things to be taken to his chamber, as it's the next best, after this one. She is…in his bed."

  Xylander cursed. "Show me the way."

  The girl led him to a closed door, then took off before he could ask her anything else.

  Xylander reached out to push the door open, but it didn't budge.

  He heard Guinevere cry out.

  Resting, my royal arse, Xylander thought, putting his shoulder to the door. Then he put his ear to it, too, and he found he could hear another voice.

  Lancelot.

  "Yes, my queen," the knight said.

  Silence for a little while.

  Then, "Yes. Yes!"

  Her cries grew louder and more shrill.

  "Yes, oh, Lancelot, yes!"

  Red-faced, Xylander backed away from the door. If Guinevere knew he'd spied on her making love with her husband…king or no, she'd box his ears.

  Ears that could hear Guinevere's joy as clearly as if the door stood open, now, her cries were so piercing.

  "Can I be of service to Your Majesty?"

  Xylander spun. The maidservant who'd spoken was middle-aged and her knowing looks told him she'd seen all. Seen her king sneaking about like…well, like he hadn't done since he was a boy.

  Xylander straightened, trying to look regal. "Inform Sir Lancelot and his wife that I had to return to the capital, and did not have time to bid them farewell. I will…send word when I can accept their invitation to hunt."

  When he rode out of the gates, urging his horse to greater speed as if the devil himself pursued him, Xylander paused only once to look back.

  Guinevere might not be happy when she found out he'd overheard her, but she was happy with her husband. Happy enough to make love with him in the middle of the afternoon, something even Zurine in her eagerness for children had not managed to do.

  It warmed his heart to think that Guinevere would get to live happily ever after – maybe even happier than him.

  As she should.

  The next book in the series will be Roar: Goldilocks Retold, which you can get HERE.

  If you're looking to read Guinevere and Xylander's brother Lubos' story (and mad King Ludgar's fate), it's in Spin: Rumpelstiltskin Retold, which you can get HERE.

  If you'd like to know what happened to the kingdom of Moravia to make its berry wine so valuable and rare, that tale is told in Awaken: Sleeping Beauty Retold, which you can get HERE.

  If you're looking for more of Demelza's medieval fairytales, you can find the rest of the series HERE (http://www.demelzacarlton.com/fairytale/).

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  USA Today Bestselling author Demelza Carlton has always loved the ocean, but on her first snorkelling trip she found she was afraid of fish.

  She has since swum with sea lions, sharks and sea cucumbers and stood on spray drenched cliffs over a seething sea as a seven-metre cyclonic swell surged in, shattering a shipwreck below.

  Demelza now lives in Perth, Western Australia, the shark attack capital of the world.

  The Ocean's Gift series was her first foray into fiction, followed by her suspense thriller Nightmares trilogy. She swears the Mel Goes to Hell series ambushed her on a crowded train and wouldn't leave her alone.

  Want to know more? You can follow Demelza on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube or her website, Demelza Carlton’s Place at:

  www.demelzacarlton.com

  Table of Contents

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  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty - One

  Twenty - Two

  Twenty - Three

  Twenty - Four

  Twenty - Five

  Twenty - Six

  Twenty - Seven

  Twenty - Eight

  Twenty - Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty - One

  Thirty - Two

  Thirty - Three

  Thirty - Four

  Thirty - Five

  Thirty - Six

  Thirty - Seven

  Thirty - Eight

  Thirty - N
ine

  Forty

  Forty - One

  Forty - Two

  Forty - Three

  Forty - Four

  Forty - Five

  Forty - Six

  Forty - Seven

  Forty - Eight