Cycles of Love (First Cycle: Innocence)

[elsewhere87]

  
PART II

Everything was set up. All the food was still quite hot that she had just fixed in the bustling kitchen. The scariest part had been balancing the large tray, but at least she had made it easier to find the room.

She had cheated a little in that, previously placing the tie of her dress on the door’s knob to make sure she would be able to locate it accurately.

Gwen studied the table with youthful firm expression as the door opened harshly.

The boots thundered over the stone floor. His cape whipped behind him with snapping flair.

It was the king. Immediately she fell to her knees, bowing with respect as her head lowered. “Your Majesty.”

The king peered past her dismissively, all dressed in royal red cloak for a knighting ceremony that would come later in the morning.

“She is not awake yet?”

Gwen turned back to the bed before lowering her head once more, taking in his hard toed boots. “No Sire. I have prepared her breakfast though, and I am prepared to do the laundering…and anything else my...uh…the Lady Morgana needs.”

Uther sauntered over to the table, smelled at the food, checked it to make sure it was heated appropriately, and lifted a fork to the sausage. Cutting off a small piece, he placed it in his mouth. Keeping his expression level, he actually had to fight some not to smile with approval. The food was well hot and tasted rich with flavor. Perhaps she would not be as unsatisfactory as he first thought. Time would tell.

He had of course tried to argue his valid point against her and yet his ward had argued just as forcefully for her.

Aw…young Morgana. She was very much like his dear friend Goloris had been, loyal and yet headstrong, ready to fight away his opinion on anything with strong reason. They’d butt heads all the time and still it was that way often with his ward. She fought for Gwen’s position…

Ah…and she won. Even at just eleven years of age the girl had steely resilience. Like Goloris.

Turning around, putting down the fork, Uther signaled to the new servant girl, a tiny unappealing thing and yet maybe she had some skill. “Very well. The food is…acceptable. Make sure that Morgana gets a new fork.”

Gwen nodded, taking the first fork away, and pushing the second one in place. She had been prepared.

The king noticed wryly before he ordered.

“Also…make sure that you tend to your duties in the kitchen and other parts of the castle.   We will be having guests tomorrow, and so you will be expected to ready two of the rooms. If you are not sure how to do that you will be required to speak to one of the other servants for assistance. If the rooms are not satisfactory, it will weigh heavily upon you.

Understood?”

Gwen solemnly nodded her head, strongly though remembering her mother’s words, keeping her chin up as much as she could while showing respect. “Yes your Majesty.”

The king smiled a bit under a gloved hand that covered his mouth. She definitely might work out. Most servants would be down on their knees with overly done bows or asking inane questions. This girl just held still.

Slightly impressive.

He passed through the door.

Gwen let out a tight breath as across the way, the girl on the bed stirred. Gwen disposed of the first fork.

Then, clasping her hands in front of her dress she bowed, a bit excited again that now it was about to really start. They’d face each other for the first time since she’d been picked. “My Lady Morgana…Good Morning.”

Slowly Morgana’s eyes opened to full waking. Her quarters were filled with the rich scents of sweet breakfast, her favorite meal of the day, even though sometimes she ate it so late. Past the bed, the curtains were parted to let in the glowing sunshine and in front of her…

She was her own little bit of sunshine. Morgana smiled now, pressing against her pillow to sit up. For the first time in a long time she felt very excited, happy. The girls who would come to the castle, the other ladies often were too giggling and silly. Gwen was just the right balance of calm and hopefully…

Well she would soon find out.

“Gwen!”

The new little handmaiden couldn’t help but beam at that, feeling still that she was so lucky to have this desired position. Taking a few steps forward, she found it hard to be cautious. The Lady’s Morgana’s happy grin was nearly contagious.

Morgana sat up fully in the bed now, waving with her arm. “Come here Gwen.”

She moved the more steps to be right in front of her mistress.

Her eyes shining with the enjoyment of something new, Morgana held to her hands and asked, “Are you nervous?”

Gwen shook her head quickly…before nodding it with a fragile crease to her lips. “Well maybe yes…a little.”

Morgana grinned. She hated lying, and so the girl’s honesty was welcome. This was going to be fun, maybe even like having a little sister, so much better than thinking of irritating Arthur.   “It’s alright. And you mustn’t always call me the Lady Morgana by the way. You may say Milady…or even Morgana. I really do not mind.”

Gwen couldn’t help but smile back, before she remembered her position. She was not here to play. She needed to do her work, serve the Lady Morgana honorably and prove to her she made the right choice. “Well Milady, breakfast is ready. Let me show you it all.”

Morgana pushed away the covers and departed the bed with a slight hop. Coming to the table, she clapped her hands with delight at what was in the middle. “Flowers…oh thank you Gwen! They’re so lovely. They don’t look like the ones in the palace gardens though or at the market. From where did you get them?”

Gwen looked up with a bit of apprehension, her Lady taller than her when she was standing. She hoped the Lady Morgana didn’t mind they definitely were not from those places. “No. I picked them actually by the creek. There are beautiful bundles that grow there in so many colors, but I will go to the market next time if you’d rather I do so.”

Morgana shook her head profusely. “Not at all. I get so tired of all the same looking palace ones. These have a fresh smell, bright colors and everything. You were so kind to pick them for me Gwen. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

Morgana sat down now in the chair that Gwen slid out for her. “Aw, thank you again.” She started to dine, smiling with the first bites. “Oh, it’s so well made Gwen!” Really it was, rich and full of flavor, that Morgana’s smile was a real one that lit up her face with a drizzle of color.

“It pleases me you approve.” Gwen answered, sounding as adult-like as she could, as she carefully poured some fresh made juice too for her…ah…her Lady.

After giving give the cup to her, Gwen searched with her eyes. She would have to help her Lady get dressed. The problem was she just couldn’t remember which cabinet it was that held her dresses. Nurse Harriet had showed it to her, but Morgana’s quarters were immense compared to what Gwen was used to.

Morgana continued to eat her food with polite relish, taught at a very young age the type of protocol a lady of her stature was expected to follow and the way she should demand she be treated. Morgana was a unique one though, her own person with strong confidence who did not always hold to those statures. “Would you like some?”

Gwen turned around from her perplexed search of the room, stunned by the words.

Morgana frowned lightly, understanding why. Well at least one part that is. “I suppose I shouldn’t be asking that. I just don’t always like all that…royal-obedient thing and I don’t really think servants should be treated poorly. Plus I won’t expect you to do EVERYTHING for me like…well like he would.”

Gwen questioned with her eyes.

Morgana went on, finishing up her meal as Gwen so quickly filled her half drank cup. She really was so good at this. “I’m talking about the prince of course, you know…Arthur. He can’t even button his own shirt, let alone carry a junior lance without begging his thousandth servant to help him.”

Gwen’s eyes widened.

Morgana complained boisterously. “Well it’s true. He can’t! And none of his servants last because Arthur makes them all so miserable.” Noticing how shocked the girl looked, Morgana softened her voice a bit. “Oh don’t think too ill of me Gwen. Arthur’s alright, when he isn’t being an annoying pest. You’ll meet him soon enough and see what I mean.” She grinned, forking a slice. “Here, at least have a sausage. Taste how well you made it.”

Gwen shook her head profusely, looking around the room to see what should be done next. Oh and if only she could remember where the dresser was.

Morgana insisted now though, catching hold of the girl’s hand from the distance. She gave her the fork. Gwen carefully removed the piece of sausage and took a taste with a bit of marvel. Not for her cooking necessarily, but for the sausage itself. She rarely was able to enjoy such a treat; meat was finely expensive for peasants and considered a luxury. “Mmmm…”

That made Morgana happy, the girl’s real impression. “See…you made it so well.” She continued with her chatter, somehow so easily brought on by the girl’s quiet listening. “Sometimes I do not care for living in the palace, but you and I are in for a treat next week Gwen. The knights will be having a jousting match and we are to attend. Not a junior Arthur babyish one mind you. A real one! We actually get box seats right in front.”

Gwen looked at Morgana with surprise. “I can attend?”

Morgana nodded her head quickly. “Of course! You are my handmaiden now and…well I hope my friend.” She added the last part with a bit of shyness.

It made Gwen strengthen some. She smiled fully at her mistress. “Oh…yes Lady Morgana…milady.” It excited her to think that they could go to the matches together. She had always wanted to see one even though she was a bit scared of the violent part of it. Still, it would be kind of thrilling to watch the knights all in their armor, proudly displayed coat of arms, and masks, racing across the field on their horses, lances sharply pointed at the other. Ooooh…yes that would so exciting!

Morgana smiled warmly, knowing just like she had days ago that she picked the right girl. “We’re going to have fun Gwen. I know it.  I loved Nurse Harriet, and it was hard for me to say goodbye to her last night, but she has the family problems she told you about and so I wish her the best. She knows I’m getting older and so she wanted what I’ve wanted for a bit, someone closer in age.”

Gwen started to think now that maybe this wouldn’t just be a job, but a whole new change for her, the start of…

Well…something!

Morgana got up from the table now with question, authoritative, and yet respectfully going back to Gwen’s duties. “Speaking of, Did Nurse Harriet show you everything? I’m assuming from this fantastic breakfast you know where the kitchen is, yes? And the laundering, do you know where that’s done? It’s an area in back of the castle.”

Gwen nodded her head, thinking of the king’s last instructions. He had made it clear that if she didn’t know what rooms to prepare she should ask one of the over servants. Perhaps she could ask her Lady…ah…no. Even with Lady Morgana being so friendly already she didn’t think it proper to ask her, and she didn’t want to admit she had no idea what to do. She’d figure it out somehow.

She still had no idea where her Lady’s clothes cupboard was, but one thing she could do with no needed direction. Gwen moved forward to remove the linens from the bed for washing. “I will take care of this for you Lady Morgana…oh…” She half blushed. “I mean Milady of course.”

Morgana smiled with approval, walking over to her changing screen now to clean up a bit and get dressed. “Thank you Gwen.” Noticing that the girl was busy, she easily opened the cupboard herself where her fine dresses hung. Taking one out along with some undergarments, she stepped behind the screen.

Gwen finished pulling away the linens, seeing her mistress nowhere. “Milady…”

Morgana waved, still a young girl enough, even if a tall one, to not be seen at all behind the carved screen. “Over here Gwen. Just changing for the day.”

She came out.  “Can you help me with this?” She gestured to the buttons lining the back of the lavender dress she was now wearing.

“Oh yes of course!” Gwen hastily put the linens down on a chair and rushed to help her new mistress.

Morgana laughed softly. “Oh Gwen you don’t need to rush.”

With a tight frown, Gwen busily buttoned up the dress. “I’m sorry Milady. I should have gotten your dress out.”

Morgana dismissed her new handmaiden’s words with an easy shrug. “Gwen I already told you I don’t expect you to do everything. I’m more than capable of finding some clothes to wear and changing into them. Just don’t think I’m going to be one of those girls who is constantly calling on you for silly things like filing my drink more when obviously the pitcher is on the table. And as much as I adore your help you will not have to fully dress me every day…only on days when I’m bloody tired and can use the help.”

She grinned, mischievously having fun with her just stated words. She had a fiery spirit that was begotten from her father’s fighting edge.

Gwen couldn’t help smiling too as she spoke honestly. “I think it my luck I get to be your handmaiden, milady.”

Morgana shook her head. “No, I’m the one that’s lucky. After this can you help with my hair? I’ll show you where everything you need to know is.”

“Of course.”

Maybe one was a servant and the other was a lady of royal lineage, but they were already becoming…

Fast Friends.

Loneliness’s healing would never know the bounds of nobility.

~*~

Hours later the new handmaiden was faced with the still not fixed dilemma. She had no idea which rooms she would need to prepare for the guests, nor exactly how to go about it. She wandered around before luck came. Luck in two actually. Down either side of the hallway was someone she knew.

Now…

Who to ask?

~*~

The directions had been delivered with a friendly smile. Just like in the kitchen, she had offered the help so kindly.

Gwen carefully counted the doors until she came to the third one. That was how she had been instructed, third door on the right.

In front of her was a pair of Pine double doors. Most the rooms seemed to have similar entrance throughout the castle. She pushed at one side, and walked in. It was very…red. That was the first thing she noticed. The bed was large with scarlet covers. This one must be for a husband and wife pair she thought.

Moving away from the bed, she noticed the table very similar to the one in Lady Morgana’s room, only this one had strips of fur and leather laced around the chair. Interesting. On the wall was a portrait of a silver shining knight, sealed from head to toe in mask and armor. She smiled at it admiringly. Battle was definitely scary, but the knights were kind of…dashing.

The picture made her recall Morgana’s mention of the jousting tournament for next week. Gwen was so excited that not only would it be happening, but she’d be able to attend and sit with her Lady Morgana while doing so.

Wrapped up in anticipating thought of that event, she didn’t notice right away what her fingers were touching, until they thoroughly brushed up against it.

“AH!”

Quickly she clapped her hand over her mouth, scared someone might have heard her. Dashing to the doorway, her yellow skirted dress swinging around her legs, she peered out.

First to the left…

No one. Phew…good.

Quick look to the right.

Awwww…no one there either.

Then heading back into the room, she cautiously made her way to the…

Thing that had made her scream.

It was ugly. She felt sorry for it even so. And it just was so STRANGE to have in a guest’s room. She would certainly not want to sleep with this beady eyed thing staring at her. What if it came to life in the middle of the night like some wild fantasy story, like some crazy sorcerer made illusion?

Turning her head to the side, she studied it closer…

Closer…

Clo-

Oh! She shrunk away.

The thing was actually the head of a wild boar, displayed right there on the dresser. Maybe a man would like it, but a lady? She couldn’t think of any that would want this ugly monstrosity staring at them. Part of her cleaning should be to remove it. In fact…

She bravely walked up to it again, a purpose in focus. She would protect whatever lady slept in this room by removing the frightening culprit. She just had to be brave enough to lift it away. Stretching out her arms, she tightly closed her eyes. Sight blocked, she searchingly felt around the dresser until…

Ah…there.

She grasped it in her hand.

EEEEWWEEE…

It was all furry and…bristly!

Hating touching it, she resolved to keep it in her hold. She just had to get it out of here. That was all. Rid the room of the hideous freak of nature.

“It’s not fair! I can handle a real one now!”

She startled at the voice. It was coming from down the hallway.

“Yes...”

“What do you mean, yes? Can’t you say anything else other than that…yes…no…yes? Don’t you know any other words?” The young voice mocked.

There was no answer before the young voice asked a tight question. “Eh…Where’s my sword?”

“Oh uh…I think I left it on the field.” The other replied, definitely older as the tone was deep, and yet quite nervous sounding.

Compared to that, the young voice had no sign of nervousness as it came back with a disgusted yell now.

“ON THE FIELD? Well go back and GET it then! Better yet, snatch me a real one from a knight! Show my father what I can do and stop Morgana’s big mouth. Well don’t just stand there. GO! You’re all idiots. And it’s idiotic that I have to use this junior sword thing still. I want a true one!”

Morgana’s big mouth? His father? Gwen wondered.

One pair of footsteps sounded like it was bolting down the stairs in the opposite direction.

The other though…

Boots just a little less heavy than of the knights and king.

Boots…

1000th servant…

Real sword…

OH NO

The footsteps were getting closer…

Closer…

Eyes still tight shut, her shaking hands touched…

ITS eyes. She shrieked at the hard glassy feel of the beady globed atrocity. So disgusting. So vile. So...groooooooossssssss!

She couldn’t hold it back anymore. Too much!

“AAAAAHHHH! EEEEEWWWW!”

She dropped it.

Just as he…

Walked in.

“That’s my hunting prize you just dropped you dumb girl!”

With a boy’s fury, he bellowed with a good touch of familiarity. He often heard his father issue the same type of authoritative holler.

He pulled it out too from his junior sized arsenal belt quite rapidly.

“WHO ARE YOU?”

Gwen finally opened her eyes, seeing an actual dagger now pointed at her…well at least… a junior version of one. It wasn’t as pointy at the tip as the ones used by the…men.

Still it did a very impressive job of scaring a young girl like she, the shining metal whispering an ill intentioned hello. Holding onto it was a boy a few hands taller than her with hard piercing blue eyes. He had sweating gold colored hair that framed a face just a touch darker than Morgana’s. Wearing a red tunic and brown pants with black boots, his dress actually seemed ordinary.

It was probably the craziest way to greet, but she was a smart enough girl to start putting two and two together. The directions had been just a little off…maybe on purpose.

“Please tell me you’re not Prince Arthur.” That dagger still had yet to leave his upraised hand. She didn’t like its shininess, fully fledged knife or not. Maybe it couldn’t do away with her, but it could leave a nasty...splintering cut.

The boy smirked, thinking that line deserved a good one. He was not all that old in age, and yet he was known for his sarcastic attitude when the opportunity called for it. She seemed the right kind of dumb girl that would be fun to tease. “Oh no. I’m not him.

I’m his SERVANT, Donald…

Dumb girl!

Pick IT up.”

He pointed the dagger downward, gesturing to his hunting trophy that she had let fall to the floor.

Gwen quickly bent down to her knees. As she looked up though, she noticed his amused smile. That did it. He was enjoying this. The mean boy, prince or not, was getting some kind of ill spirited merriment from this. Well that really was just the last…bristly string of…

Hideous…

Hair…

On that horrible thing’s head!

She may be just a servant, but he barely acted like a prince, more like a cowardly brat screaming at everyone and pointing junior baby daggers at a girl. Really…he had no manners at all!

She did like her mother had taught her, straightened her nose for balance, which lifted her face, angrily. He called her dumb and ordered her to her knees. He was just a boy no matter whose son he was.

Gwen’s impulsiveness railed in her voice now with a tightly grimaced rant.

“You should not be so mean! No wonder none of your servants stay! You’re just a…

He sneered in her direction, pretty impressively for a mere boy. “A what?”

“A BULLY!”

Still on her knees, she snatched that horrible thing before lifting up to her feet. Thrusting it down so rapidly on the dresser, the head rolled around a bit before finally it came to a stop, lopsided.

Arthur stared. No one ever talked to him like that. They were too horrified of the king’s wrath. This girl though, with tight dark curls and a shabby dress at best, definitely servant material, raised her nose at him like he was the one who was a peasant.

She really was dumb…dumbly stupid.

“Do you know who my father is, servant girl?”

Now he was mocking what she did. She was so mad, hands fisting at her sides. She thought little of the repercussions, pursing her lips tightly. He was destined one day, far into the future, to become king. That just seemed totally ridiculous right now. A boy like this had no business ever becoming king of the people.

She tried to look as mature as she could, frustrated that he was tall enough to make her have to look up while she insulted. “He is king. And you should honor him better than how you do. Everyone knows princes become kings, but you would be a horrible one.”

He gave her that look, the one that went beyond his years, stunned.  Then smiling with youthful arrogant fun as he put his dagger back in his belt, he yelled.

“GUARDS!”

That brought her completely back to where she was and what she had just done. Gwen felt her heart thump. She shouldn’t have let her anger get the best of her. She rarely did. Even for a young girl, people said she was patient, but this…boy! Ugh!

It didn’t matter, her fury. She couldn’t just think of herself. She’d lose this new job in one day. She’d let down her lady. She’d force her Dad’s business in town to end. They’d have no home. It was all her fault and now she had to make amends for it. Forgetting all her foolish pride, she grabbed one of the boy’s hands.

“Ew…ugh…” Arthur let out. Her palm was wetter than his forehead right now.

“GUARDS!” He called out again with agitation. They didn’t always run to his beckon as fast as they did to his father’s, which was so annoying. Soon enough though they’d be here and seemed this girl finally realized that. Hah…she’d lose her job. He still had no idea what she was doing in his room, but he didn’t really care right now. She’d be sacked in minutes. If only the idiotic guards would get here.

“G-

Desperate, Gwen wiped with her apron at the wetness she had brought to his hand. Then, thinking only of those who mattered to her, the Lady Morgana and her Dad most of all of course, she fell down hard to her knees. Perhaps a little too hard.

“Please Prince Arthur…please don’t call the guards again.”

She looked ready to cry. Even as her oddly dark eyes looked up to him without any hard blinking, she seemed really upset now. And she was apologizing.

“Please.”

He opened his mouth again.

She closed her eyes hard, lowering her head. This was it. She ruined everything. Mean boy or not, she made this happen.

One more call and they’d surface. He had the word firmly in his head. Just that one command left.

She might start crying.

Fie…he hated when girls got all weepy.

She waited. It had to happen. Nose against the floor, she could feel the dust tickling at her nostrils. “Please don’t tell my Lady.”

One call. That was it.

The young Arthur Pendragon certainly hadn’t gone through anything like a thousand servants, but he had plenty that he got rid of in one day. They all did everything he said. Maybe that would make most boys happy, but he wasn’t most, and so instead it frustrated him plenty.

They were all cowards.

She had a mouth. She made him feel uncomfortable as she begged. She was dumb.

But she didn’t just say yes or no all the time.

“Who’s your lady?”

Gwen finally lifted her head, her neck feeling strained. As she did, she noticed there was fractioning interest in his eyes, but not much more. He hadn’t called them again. Why? Was he just trying to trick her?

“The Lady Morgana.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. So this was her. The day she was picked he’d been out practicing his swings.  Girls barely interested him more than the true arsenal of a knight, what he wanted to finally be able to carry, and use. It made sense since he was barely eleven at ten years old, and most girls were just annoying, while most weapons were…spectacular.

Bored of the confrontation now and noticing that it still had yet to be properly positioned after her mangling of it, he moved to his dresser. Lifting the prized boar head, he set it back down in a straight manner, before he commented. “Morgana…of course.”

The royal boy’s servant came back, to see his master with his back turned. Young pain of a…

Master.

He had heard him while running up the steps to return the sword. The boy had been yelling for the guards. Well enough was enough. He wasn’t going to spend some night in the dungeon just to be put back in the torture of serving Prince Arthur.

The servant misjudged Arthur’s reason to call the guards, too used to the boy’s wrath. He pushed the sword into Gwen’s hands almost fearfully.

He’d go back to his father’s food stand and help him. Having a nervous breakdown before he reached eighteen was not something he wanted to look forward to. Prince or not, the boy was a tyrant. Even though any punishment the boy had planned would have to go past his father first, King Uther usually listened to his son. He protected him wildly. That’s why Arthur was always in such a bad mood, because he wanted to be a real fighter, a grown one that battled like all the knights were expected to. He’d have to learn how to carry his arsenal first…on his own!

Gwen watched with widened eyes as the former servant raced through the hallway and practically skipped each step to get down faster. That was 1001.

Holding the sword in hand, she tipped it upward with interest. The handle was beautiful and yet its hold was a little less than perfect. Like Prince Arthur had complained while out in the hallway, it was not a true sword. Its blade was dull enough to keep it from doing any real harm, and yet it did have a captivating line of decoration shining through the silver. For the moment so focused on it, a natural trait of childhood that moods easily lifted, she forgot her earlier fear of what he still had authority enough to do.

Since he was…

Prince Arthur, son of King Uther, the once and future…

King.

Turning back around, Arthur’s youthful blue eyes widened. She had his pitiful imitation sword in his hand, but what was kind of alarming was she didn’t seem all that afraid of it. He knew no girl who was so comfortable with a sword except maybe Morgana. Most of the young ladies shrieked at them and got silly, dropping it out of their wriggling fingers, complaining that…oh it was too heavy!

He had no idea if this girl could fight like Morgana, who liked to tell him she was better. Hah. But she definitely was used to holding it at least. That piqued his interest as yet to fully mature eyes noticed her appearance again. The curling hair was tied with some flowering ribbons that seemed to only partly get their task completed. Some of the curls had fallen out. Her skin had a tint of darkness to go with her hair, almost like the sun had fun with it. It was all finished of course with that shabby yellow peasant dress.

Wait a minute. She was holding his sword. Uh…how? So many questions about this weird girl.

Gwen’s eyes met his watching ones. She felt her cheeks redden slightly before she pushed the physical flawing reaction away. Silly. She couldn’t stand this boy. He seemed questioning right now though. She looked at it in her hand with understanding. Of course. The servant man had left without him seeing.

“Your servant left this for you. You’re probably going to need a new one, servant that is. I don’t think he’s coming back my…uh…lordship.” She grimaced at her own mangled words, but also felt a bit confused. She had no real instructions for how to address a prince, one that she didn’t even like. Not fully anyway.

The mismatched title actually made him laugh, a smile touching at Arthur’s lips for a second.

He should have called the guards on her.

Just one oddly peculiar thing made him not yet yell for her to leave his room.

She called him a bully.

“It’s not lordship. It’s my lord or…Prince Arthur. I’m not really anything else yet. But I will be.”

For the first time she saw something beyond cowardly bulliness in his eyes. Determination. It amazed her a bit before the worry returned.

Arthur pointed with command. “The sword…here…”

Gwen frowned.

Something about her silent not approving look made him amend his words slightly. “It’s mine, so can you hand it here?”

Well, slightly rude or not, at least it was a question. She lifted it to him, asking. “Are you going to call the guards on me?”

Arthur took the junior sword from her, holding it in his hand with knowledge. He trained more than he was even told to. He practiced often in his room beyond hours when he should be asleep. One day he would be able to get rid of this puny thing and fight the way the knight in his picture had. He’d be fully clothed in armor and arsenal. He’d lead the knights because he’d best all of them. One day.

Gwen waited.

Giving the sword a few quick swings, Arthur did not answer her question. “You didn’t look all that scared holding this. Most girls do.”

“Except Lady Morgana. She’s better than you.”

His eyebrows came up with surprise.

Gwen rambled. “Uh...I mean…she says she is. And I know she is because she’s my Lady, but uh…I probably shouldn’t have said that she is…at least not to…eh…you.”

The young prince half smiled. “Probably. So how did you learn how to hold a sword without acting all silly about it?”

Gwen shrugged now with ease, just happy he hadn’t sent her away yet. “I see them all the time. My Dad makes them, much better than that one.” She shook her head. “I probably should not have said that.”

“Probably again. Your father is a blacksmith?”

Gwen watched as after one last swing he set the sword down on his table. She pushed away some tickling hairs from her eyes. They always fell out of her ties, never listening. “Yes. He set up his forge here in Camelot and it does well.”

“Who are you? I mean I know that you’re Morgana’s handmaiden, but what is your name?”

The question came out now with no warning.

Gwen’s young girl nervousness returned, her nose wrinkling as she half grimaced. Just a precursor for the long rambling round. “Um…well my name is Guinevere. But oh…everyone…well most everyone anyway, friends and uh…well I like Gwen the most. I’m not saying that you…uh…I mean…”

She could learn a lot from his English tutor. A lot more than he boringly had to put up with. Exasperated, Arthur cut through the most wandering answer that was ever presented to him, using the first name he heard her fill in with. “Guinevere.

What are you doing in my room?”

Perhaps she had definitely kneeled down too hard. It bothered her bruised knee now, making her wince slightly. “I didn’t know it was your room Prince Arthur. I thought it was a guest room.”

“Why would you think that?”

She bit down on her bottom lip, grimacing as the pain started to intensify. That was nothing though compared to her growing realization. She had been in here for a long time. The king and her Lady were most likely finishing lunch, and soon the man would see that she hadn’t touched either of the rooms yet. When he did, it would all be over. She’d be sent packing. They’d have to leave their new home.

Dully she answered, a tiny childhood’s grunt to push away the physical hurt that was stubbornly not vacating. “One of the girls told me that this room…obviously your room Prince Arthur…was the guest room. I’m beginning to think now she told me the wrong room on purpose.”

Slowly it made sense to Arthur. Even as a boy he knew the drill that most new servants were put through. It was the same kind of fun teasing that went on between knights. Maybe some of the pranks were a bit mean, but this went further than a regular prank even. And he was now guessing the reason. “Because you work for Morgana. You know what I mean…she picked you for her handmaiden. A lot of girls wanted to be it.”

Gwen tried to pretend the abrasion didn’t hurt. “I know. I just thought the girl was being nice. I didn’t think she was being spiteful because Lady Morgana chose me.”

Arthur shrugged. “She’s not like a lot of other young ‘ladies’, even though she can be an irritating bother. That’s why they all wanted it, because Morgana’s not all that into ordering around and such.”

“Like you?” Gwen slapped her hand over her mouth, regretting her wild impulsiveness that seemed to be just flying out with this boy.

Arthur half smiled, and asked, before another rambling apology could start. “Who was it?”

“She said her name was Mirabelle.”

“Where did she tell you to go next?”

“Five doors down to the left.”

Arthur’s sharp sky eyes widened. “My father’s?”

Gwen realized the full extent of it with too heavy a face for such a young girl. She never should have gone to Mirabelle. She should have just headed down the opposite hallway and asked the other person who had been nice to her in the kitchen.

The king would dismiss her for sure now and…

Oh. Her wounded knee shrilled at its neglect. It made her leg shake.

“What’s wrong?”

She threw it out, thinking there was no reason not to. She’d never set foot in this castle again. “Well everything of course!”

Arthur took a surprised step back at the yell, but could plainly see how upset she was. And yet it was more. She looked like she was almost limping on one foot. “Why are you standing like that?”

Defeated was Gwen’s expression. Maybe the king had been right. She wasn’t suited to this job. She spoilt it all in one day.

“Ow.”

Now he knew for sure. She was hurt. He just didn’t know how. It shouldn’t matter to him at all. She was a dumb girl who dropped his prized boar head, and yet she’d been tricked, and her big eyes looked so…lost now. “Come on, why are you standing that way?”

Gwen lowered her head. “I kneeled too hard when I begged you not to call the guards. I know you’re going to call them now though so just…do it. I know I’m in big trouble.”

She said she was supposed to be cleaning the guest rooms. His father would definitely infer why they were not yet done.

She hurt herself kneeling. It wasn’t like he had ordered her to, but it was always what the peasants and servants did with his father. It made him uncomfortable a lot of the time when he’d be in the throne room with the king and someone would go down low on their knees begging for something. Sure it was a sign of respect and kings did it for fallen comrades. The prince did it to honor his father. Knights kneeled at their ceremonies. It was all normal. He just hated watching the overly done begging, and yet she had done it at his feet. He didn’t try to stop it. She was just a girl, maybe younger than him. She was tiny. If he ever kneeled too hard then…

Then…

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He started to walk away, but her wincing was not alleviating. “You can sit in the chair if you want. And don’t worry, the boar’s head isn’t alive anymore.

At least I don’t think.”

He smirked.

She frowned.

Half amused, Arthur left.

Gwen stubbornly stayed standing, a tear falling down her face now that she was alone. Her knee hurt so much and…oh her lady Morgana would be so disappointed. Her new job and it was over in one day.

How was she going to tell her Dad?

How-

Another tear started to fall.

“Eh…don’t cry. I hate it when girls cry. Too weird. Here…”

Arthur walked back into the room with an unhappy grimace at the wetness staining her cheek. Extending his arm, he pushed it to her.

Gwen rubbed with her fingers harshly at her face to remove the tears, surprised by his return and even more-so by what he had in his hand.

Seeing that she didn’t get it, Arthur smiled slightly. “For your knee. Adelaide got it nice and cold for you. Um…er…” He hated doing this, but it was right. “I’m sorry you hurt it whilst kneeling. The floor’s hard so watch it next time.”

Yet to take the cloth, she stared. Was he actually being nice to her? His blue eyes seemed a bit friendly now. They made him a little more normal along with that last streak of wet golden hair from his sword practice.

“Come on take it. Adelaide prepared it for you. For your knee.”

Gwen finally accepted the extended cloth. She lifted shyly at the bottom of her dress just a bit.

Feeling boyish awkwardness, Arthur turned away.

When he turned back around, she had the cloth raised under the last bits of her dress where he couldn’t see. “Should make it hurt less.”

She was thankful he had turned around. It was strange enough coming to his room to think it was the one she should be cleaning. It was Mirabelle’s fault and her stupidity for believing the girl. “Thank you…for getting this for me.”

Arthur shrugged off her gratitude like what he did was nothing of consequence. “It was Adelaide. She’s who you should have gone to by the way. Adelaide’s good at all this kind of stuff. The other girls are all jealous of you because you’re working for Morgana. She’s kind of…ugh…nice with servants. And she seems to like you a lot. I didn’t know that it was you…who she picked, but I heard her talking about the girl with a lot of enthusiasm to my father…so now I know…well that’s you…she meant.”

Gwen soberly responded. Just minutes before it all ended. “You’re right. I should have gone to Adelaide. I met her earlier in the kitchen and she was really nice.”

“Yeah well…next time you know better.”

Gwen grimaced. “What next time? There won’t be one.”

Strange. She didn’t seem the type to give up.

“You’re going to quit?”

Gwen responded bluntly.

“I’m going to be sacked.”

Arthur showed a glimpse of his growing maturity, as he smiled with confidence now. “I don’t think so.”

“I didn’t get any of my work done.”

He simply shrugged. “You mean the rooms? No bother. That girl, Mirabelle, knows that if they don’t get done the king will be furious. And she knows that I know how she lied about which rooms to clean. I think she thought I’d just call the guards on you. Maybe I should have, but even if you’re kind of weird and dumb, Mirabelle’s just a brat. And you know…I don’t think my father would be too happy that a servant tried to trick another servant into cleaning his room. He doesn’t let anyone enter without permission. So I have a feeling that she’s cleaning those two rooms you were supposed to, really good now. Because she knows if she doesn’t I’ll tell my father what she had planned. And everyone around here knows that my father listens to me…most the time anyway.”

His answer was shocking to Gwen. She had thought for sure he left to call the guards on her. Not only had he not called the guards, he excused her from her yet to be completed duties.  “Why would you do that for me?”

Stubborn dismissal came to the prince’s face. “I didn’t do it for you. I told you Mirabelle’s a brat so she deserved it. Plus Morgana would be a whining pest if you got sacked. Oh and it wasn’t me who did most the convincing anyway. It was Adelaide, because she likes you a lot. I just had to stand there and nod my head as the royal Prince Arthur.”

“But you still think I’m a dumb girl?”

His lips curved slightly. “Yeah.”

“I think you’re a bully still.”

Her lips curved slightly.

It was a fraction of innocent wonder. A boy and girl looked at each other now with no foreseeing knowledge of what this meeting could mean to their future. No hourglass was there to show it.

Perhaps it could be sweet.

Perhaps it could be nothing.

Perhaps it could be torture.

She was just thankful for his help.

And he was glad he’d done something nice.

From a bullish boy.

For a weird girl.

Voices rang in the hallway.

Gwen startled at them. They sounded closer with each step. She had to get out of here.

Arthur was thinking the same thing. He grabbed at her wrist, heading to the doorway on the other side of his quarters, where she could disappear down the opposite hallway. Oddly enough she didn’t protest. Maybe she wasn’t all that dumb after-all. He opened the door and whispered, “Go down that way…it takes you to the other side of the castle. They’ll never spot you and you can get back to Morgana.”

She nodded her head.

He couldn’t help but mock as she pushed away from his grasping hand and he let her wrist go. “Oh and servant girl…”

She frowned, which made him smile. She looked kind of funny.   “Don’t mistake my quarters for the guest rooms again or you might have to face the wrath of my…boar.”

She countered back strongly, nose raised once more. “Don’t be so mean to your servants and maybe they won’t quit so much.”

His eyes widened. She was kind of brave. “Tell Morgana she owes me.”

Gwen’s face showed questioning. The voices were getting closer. He dismissed her quickly. “Forget it. Better get going before they spot you. Oh and…

Guess I’ll see you around…”

She started to dash in the way he told her, as she heard his final word.

“Guinevere.”

Part III

here