The Lost King

by Leilani Love

  Arthur looked at her like he really saw her. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that she could ride astride and shoot an arrow. Most men would run from her, but he seemed to be running toward her.

  “I am promised to the prince. There can be nothing between us,” she said, surprised by how the words stuck in her throat as she reached up to rub her chest.

  With his free hand he reached up and pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself for us. Marrying him will…”

  “Kill me,” she said, finishing the sentence.

  His expression softened. “What about you? What would happen to you if you got caught, my Princess? Prince Greggory is not known for his kindness. Who is going to protect you?”

  Guinevere knew she should move away from his touch, from him, but her body didn’t seem to listen. In fact, she leaned slightly into his touch. Frowning, she released his hand and took a step back. “Bors and Elizabeth protect me.”

  He gave a small shrug. “For now. But what happens after you marry Greggory and he sends them both home? Do you really think the Prince will let you ride off into the night, attack his guards, and set his prisoners free?”

  His voice was hard, lips tightened. She shuddered at the anger in his voice. “I assure you the prince will be too busy with his mistress to spend all his evenings with me. I will just have to be more careful. Bors and Elizabeth will be staying with me.”

  Still running his fingers though her hair, he took a step toward her. “There is no way he will let you out of his bed once he gets you there. Have you heard the rumors of what he has done to women? Do you think they will be able to save you when he has you trapped in his room?”

  She blinked back tears. He grunted and cupped her face, forcing her gaze toward his. “What would happen if you ran away with me? I’m not rich but it wouldn’t be a bad life.”

  She laughed. “So, I am safe while my people suffer under his rule. What makes my life worth more than theirs?”

  His gaze intensified. Several times, his mouth opened and closed, as if he wanted to argue. Guinevere was unable to look away. She was stubborn and never one to back out of a fight, and she knew that the first one to look away would lose.

  A low growl rattled in his throat. He jerked her forward and clasped his arms around her. Before she knew what was happening, he pressed his lips against hers. Surprised, she gasped into the kiss and froze. His lips were firm against hers. She knew she should pull away, but she couldn’t. His gentle insistent tongue parted her lips and she leaned into him, resting her hands on his chest. Her hand vibrated on his chest as he moaned. His hands angled her head upward, better for his tongue to slide past her lips.

  Before Guinevere could explore this wonderful feeling, she heard the loud steps of Bors coming up behind them. Twigs snapped under his feet as he loudly called out, “Milady, it’s time to go.”

  She jumped away from Arthur who smiled at her. She blushed, and her hand came up touching her swollen lips. Her first real kiss. Because she had been promised to the Prince since before she was born no one had ever dared and the Prince had never done more than kiss her on the cheek or press a chaste kiss to her lips. It shouldn’t have happened. She shouldn’t be missing the warmth of his touch.

  “I need to go, you need to leave. I never want to see you again,” she said as she walked around him. When she passed Arthur, she found herself facing Bors. She ducked her head to hide her blush from him, lifted her skirt, and walked away as fast as she could.

  “We should be getting back to the castle before you are missed,” Bors said, looking over her shoulder at Arthur.

  She nodded and finished walking the few steps back up to the house. Elizabeth was standing outside, and she nodded to her, quickly walking around the house to the carriage. She needed to get away from Arthur. Her mind was spinning. He was not what she was supposed to be thinking about.

  Spotting her, the carriage driver jumped down and helped her into the back. A few moments later, the buzz of Elizabeth’s voice echoed in her ears. When her friend appeared inside the carriage, she was surprised that Bors wasn’t with her. She looked out the window to see Arthur and Bors trudging toward them, their heads bowed.

  Arthur glanced up first, his gaze finding hers instantly. His expression softened, and his lips quirked into a smile. Her heart pounded so hard it was all she could hear, and on some crazy impulse her fingers came up and touched her lips. Turning away, she blinked back tears. Mourning for a life she could never have.

  Bors got in and the cart lurched forward causing her to jerk in her seat. “Milady, are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Elizabeth asked.

  Tears started falling down her cheeks faster and Bors wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. All her feelings about having to marry the prince bubbled to the surface.

  Bors held her while she cried. Just like he had when she was younger. Bors, in many ways, had been more of a father figure than her own. Her father would remind her of her duty while giving her a sympathetic look, and Bors would hold her while she cried. He had practically raised her along with Elizabeth. He had been the one to teach her to ride when he taught Elizabeth. Even how to defend herself. After hours of begging, he had taught them both to shoot arrows. After a visit to Camelot with her father he had even come back and taught them both how to use a sword. She never knew what had happened on that trip that caused him to change his mind.

  When the last tear finally dried she sat up and Bors knocked on the top of the carriage. Slowly, the driver pulled to a stop.

  “The princess needs a moment,” Bors called.

  She swiped at her face. “You know me too well,” she said, as Elizabeth helped her straighten up her hair and clean her face.

  When she was presentable again, Elizabeth smiled and squeezed her hand. The two of them rarely needed words. Actions were enough. When they reached the castle, Guinevere had composed herself and waited for Bors and Elizabeth to get out before sliding toward the carriage door. Bors took her hand and helped her down.

  The second her feet touched the ground, one of the maids came running out of the castle. She was pretty and young, with brown hair and big brown eyes framed with long beautiful lashes. She also had a fresh cut on her lip. Guinevere widened her eyes in shock as the maid bowed and curtsied before her. “Your Highness, the dressmaker is in your room waiting to fit you for your wedding gown.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Mandy.”

  Elizabeth gave her a look. She’d noticed the cut too. The women at her father’s castle were able to work without being harassed by the men. She knew that some of the maids gave out favors to some of the knights, but it was always by choice. No man was to force himself on a woman or strike her without severe penalty. Guinevere learned long ago that things were done differently in Camelot when she’d witnessed a man slapping a maid. Bors had found her before she could stab the guard with the small dagger she always kept hidden. “Bors, Elizabeth will be with me for my fitting, would you please make sure to take care of that.”

  “Yes milady,” Bors said his tone calm despite the pulsing in his jaw and the clenched fist at his side.

  As Guinevere came up the flight of stairs, she spotted Greggory and Rebecca. Gregory had his hands-on Rebecca’s arm their heads bowed together as they whispered. When Greggory turned toward her, he at least had the decency to move his hands from her. Rebecca, on the other hand, didn’t try to hide the smug smile on her face.

  Greggory took a step back from his mistress. “Guinevere! I was just asking Rebecca if she happened to know where we could find you. The dressmaker was looking for you.”

  She smiled batting her lashes. Her voice overly cheerful, “That’s funny, if I ever needed to find you she is the person I would ask too.” She paused enjoying the discomfort on Greggory’s face before finishing. “We ran into one of the maids when we arrived. We were just going up to meet the dressmaker to pick out a dress for the wedding.”

 
; “Oh, no need Your Highness.” Rebecca eyed her like a cat might eye a mouse. “I went ahead and picked one out for you. She just needs your measurements.”

  “Thank you for your help, but I will be picking out my own dress,” she said, not even looking in Rebecca’s direction. “Excuse me, Your Highness. I should go and meet with the dressmaker.”

  As she passed, Rebecca whispered, “You will love her, Your Highness. Greggory has hired her to make all of my dresses.”

  She didn’t stop, but Elizabeth apparently was in the mood to let that one slide. “It is His Highness job to provide for the help.”

  The emphasis on those words could not be mistaken, and Guinevere bit her cheek to keep her face neutral, as the people stood out in the hallway so they could eavesdrop better.

  “Why...I. You know I am not the help,” Rebecca stammered as Elizabeth ignored her with a smug smile on her face as she walked with Guinevere to her room.

  When they finally got away from everyone, Elizabeth whispered, “You really should let me kill her, milady. I promise it won’t be a bother and would be worth the hanging after to see her face when I do it.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “You would ruin your dress, and I would miss you dearly.”

  The door to her sitting room was open and they heard the distinct voice of a woman complaining about being kept waiting. She stepped into the room with her best, polite smile. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting. I wasn’t aware you were coming today.”

  The older woman snapped her mouth shut. “Your Highness! My apologies,” she said, dipping into a curtsy.

  “No need to apologize Madam Reeves. It is I that should apologize. Please, excuse me. I promise I would have been here if I had known.”

  The dressmaker was in her fifties, her hair streaked with silver, and fine lines around her hazel eyes. “Your ladies’ companion was in here earlier and picked out something she said you would like. But, having seen you, I don’t think it would be the correct choice.”

  As Madam Reeves spoke, she handed her a sketch, and Guinevere nodded. The dress wouldn’t at all be flattering. It had lace that went up to her chin and a long row of buttons. It would show her as the Ice Princess everyone accused her of being.

  “I believe you are right, madam. Would you mind showing me some of your other sketches?” she asked.

  The woman’s eyes lit up. “You are a rare beauty. The prince is one lucky man. You glow with youth, and a little bit of mischief milady. Let me show you the dress I think would be both beautiful on you and perfect for such a grand event.”

  “Thank you so much,” Guinevere replied blushing at the compliment as she handed her the sketch. The dress was truly amazing. The dress would hug her body and flare at the bottom. The train was long and extravagant.

  Elizabeth stepped up behind her to look at the dress. “That would look stunning on you.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “The dress is stunning, and I would feel very lucky to be able to wear your design.”

  The woman beamed under her praise and she could hear Elizabeth’s soft chuckle behind her. “Milady give me one minute I am just going to get the fabric, so I can start the measurements.”

  The dressmaker left, and Guinevere laughed turning to look at Elizabeth who was also laughing. “Did you see that dress that Rebecca picked out for me? It was so high on my neck I would barely be able to breath.”

  “You would have looked like the Ice Princess the nobles call you and I bet whatever she was going to wear would have actually flattered her.” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head. “The nerve of her. It’s not enough that she flaunts herself in the castle.”

  Guinevere smiled at her friend’s outrage and how her thoughts echoed her own. “After I marry Greggory would you and your father like to go back home? It’s not fair for me to ask you to stay here with me.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth snapped closed and her eyes narrowed. “My place is with you always, milady. I would never leave you here to live alone with that...that…”

  Before she could finish her sentence, the dressmaker’s footsteps padded toward them. She bit her lip to keep from giggling as they heard the Madam instruct her workers not to bother the princess with silly questions. Guinevere stood smiling as the dressmaker walked in with two young girls in tow.

  The girls stopped in the doorway, tripping over themselves as they both tried to curtsy with their arms full. Giving them both a nod, she motioned for Elizabeth to help them with the cloth.

  Madam Reeves placed a wooden stool in the middle of the floor and Elizabeth closed the sitting room door. “Let us get you out of this dress. I can get your measurements on this fabric and be back in three days to get the final measurements. We will work day and night to get your bridal gown ready, and you looking beautiful for His Highness on your special day.”

  She nodded, biting her lip. The idea of looking beautiful for Greggory made her stomach uneasy. She clutched her midsection, and the designer smiled at her, misunderstanding the action. “You must be so excited. Wedding days are truly magical.”

  Even though she didn’t respond, Madam Reeves went on about the wedding. When she didn’t speak, Elizabeth responded for her. Time seemed to stand still as Guinevere listened to the two of them chat. By the time she was finally finished, Guinevere had started to worry that her legs were going to give out. Once the Madam announced she was done Guinevere excused herself to redress.

  Alone in her room, she paced back and forth wondering if there was any way to delay the wedding. She knew it was her duty but, she wasn’t ready. An image of Arthur floated into her thoughts. Thinking about their kiss, she ran her tongue along her lip and she could almost taste him.

  “Milady?” Elizabeth’s voice called out.

  She jumped, and then turned around. With a laugh, she replied, “Yes, Elizabeth?”

  Her friend took her hand and sat on the bed. “What happened between you and Arthur on your walk? Did he hurt you?”

  Shaking her head, she sniffled. “No, he didn’t hurt me. He asked me to leave with him and…he kissed me. I know it was silly of me to let him. I should have pulled away but…”

  “Would it be so bad to spend time with him before your marriage to the prince? He is, after all, not spending his nights alone, and the whole kingdom knows it. Maybe you should make some memories of your own before you are forced to marry him.”

  She bit her lip. “I can’t take a lover. If I am not a virgin on my wedding night, what do you think the prince would do?”

  “I am not saying take a lover, but you can make a few memories. Enjoy those stolen kisses to keep you warm at night when you are alone. I see the way Arthur looks at you. Why don’t we sneak out for fun the next few nights? Father talked to the maid, and for now, they are delaying taking any more prisoners into the mines while they patrol the woods, looking for the men who set them free.”

  She smiled at the way Elizabeth’s voice got higher the longer she spoke. It was something she tended to do when excited by something. “What if we get caught?”

  Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “You don’t worry about being caught when we go to save people, but the idea of getting caught having a little bit of fun scares you, huh?”

  She did have a good point. They hadn’t had one incident while sneaking out at night, so maybe they should do something different and have a little fun. With a sigh, she nodded, and then asked, “What did you have in mind?”

  Chapter 11

  Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about how Guinevere looked before he kissed her. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about kissing her since the moment he’d seen her, but he’d never planned to go through with it.

  When Bors came out and Guinevere walked away, leaving the two of them alone, he had expected the giant to hit him. After all, the princess was his to protect, but instead, he asked him questions about his family and where he was from. He seemed disappointed when he found out that his
family lived along the shore. If Arthur had to guess, Bors had hoped that Arthur lived farther away.

  Arthur had gone back to the Inn, telling Bors he would be staying a few more days and to send for him if he needed anything. He told Lancelot his plans when he got back. His friend had sworn and threatened to leave him there alone. He knew he wouldn’t. Instead his friend flirted with one of the tavern maids, while drinking way more than he should. At this rate, Lancelot would be passed out and unable to do the things he kept bragging to the pretty maid about.

  As Arthur leaned back in his seat, he noticed a man watching him. Thinking he looked familiar, there was a moment of panic, thinking it was one of the guards from the other night. After a few moments, he realized it was the man who had been outside the shop the day he first saw Guinevere.

  The man caught him staring. “Still in Camelot I see,” he said with a smile.

  Arthur nodded. “I am. Why do you sound so surprised?”

  The man shrugged. “People used to come from all over to see Camelot. Now people come here to sell their wares and leave as quickly as possible. Once the former king died, and his son disappeared, this place became cursed.”

  He smirked, wondering if the man had maybe had a few too many drinks. “Cursed huh? Is that from the same people who believe that the princess bathes in the blood of children to stay beautiful?”

  The man laughed before shaking his head. “No, most of us know that the princess is a beacon of light. She was meant to marry the missing prince. When he comes back to these lands, he will save us, and the princess. But only if he is willing to fight for them both. He can’t have one without the other.”