“Will come with her as a token of our alliance,” King Leodegrance said.
Everyone, most of all Britt, was shocked when Guinevere released a shriek of joy. “Thank you, Arthur. Thank you,” she said, throwing herself at Britt.
The fiery haired girl wept into Britt’s double, alarming Merlin but affirming to Britt that she had made the right choice.
Every girl deserved to be saved, not just the ones Britt thought to be worthy.
“There, there,” Britt said, patting Guinevere’s head. “I would be honored to act as your guardian during your stay at Camelot.”
“Should you change your mind and wish to marry her yourself, Arthur,” King Leodegrance started.
“Not until Britain is united,” Britt firmly said.
“Yes, I see. Very well then. Safe travels. Come, Guinevere. Stop crying and let go of His Majesty,” Leodegrance ordered.
Guinevere stepped back but smiled and wildly waved through her tears as Britt remounted Llamrei and once again headed for the woods.
“Arthur,” Merlin tightly said.
“Hm?”
“You need to be more careful about who you allow to be so close to you as to touch you,” Merlin said, his voice sharp and delicate like thin ice.
“It doesn’t matter. Guinevere knows.”
“SHE WHAT?”
Britt yawned in the afternoon sun. She tilted her back, nestling further into the large haystack she was hiding behind. She had returned to Camelot a week before. Merlin had just finally forgiven her for revealing her gender to Guinevere, releasing her from her kingly duties for the first time since her homecoming.
Britt heard her guards shift around her. Cavall, who was splayed out next to her, bumped her legs as he stood. “What is it?” she called.
“Merlin approaches, Milord,” the captain of her guard said.
Britt grimaced and opened her eyes. “Can’t you detain him?”
“We’ve seen too much of the magic he can do for me to attempt that, Milord.”
“Very well,” Britt grumbled. “Merlin, what brings you outside of Camelot’s walls?” Britt asked when the wizard drew near.
Merlin squinted up at the sunlight. “Lancelot is looking for you,” he said, patting Cavall on the head.
“I know.”
“He intends to pledge his loyalty to you.”
“Why do you think I’m hiding out in the farmland?” Britt asked.
Merlin chuckled and plopped down next to Britt, also leaning into the hay. “Scat,” he said to Britt’s guards.
The soldiers saluted him before walking out of hearing distance—although they still stood at attention with their weapons bared.
“It might not be as bad as you think.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
Merlin picked up a piece of straw and prodded Cavall with it when the massive dog settled back down on the ground. “Maybe… but both Ywain and Griflet have shaved.”
“What?”
“Tis true. They no longer sport those hideous, scraggily patches of facial hair they tried to pass off as beards,” Merlin reported.
“But why?”
“It seems the ladies of Camelot coo over Lancelot, and it has spawned some jealousy.”
“Merlin, no!” Britt said.
“It is out of my control.”
“But it can’t be!”
“Too late. It seems like your fashion icon has arrived.
“No, not Lancelot. Anyone but him,” Britt groaned.
Merlin laughed in deviant delight. “You must admit, he will make clean shaven faces all the rage.”
“The price is too high,” Britt grumbled, nestling further into the hay bale.
Merlin was silent for several moments before saying, “I’ve received word from Leodegrance. In two weeks time Guinevere will set out for Camelot.”
“Goodie. Sir Ulfius will arrange a room for her?” Britt asked.
“Yes. You do realize that in spite of your claim that you will not marry until Britain is united everyone—from your allies to your knights—thinks you mean to marry her?”
“If they do that is their problem,” Britt said.
“You don’t mind?”
“Not if it keeps the other ladies of my court from batting their eyes at me,” Britt said. “It’s not like Guinevere is going to have false expectations.”
“No thanks to you,” Merlin grunted.
“It will still work out,” Britt said.
“Only if she is able to keep her mouth shut. Most ladies are dreadful gossips you know. They twitter like birds in springtime at all hours of the day. Women are pests.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh come now, you hardly count.”
“What?” Britt said, sitting upright.
“Not that I see you as a man—you are too clean for that, even if we ignore the fact that you insist on smelling like flowers,” Merlin said in disgust.
“Then what exactly do you see me as?” Britt demanded.
“Genderless?” Merlin tried.
Britt’s elbow to his gut told him he guessed wrong.
“See, you do things like that and wonder why I don’t see you as being quite female,” Merlin wheezed.
Britt folded her arms across her chest and shut her eyes as she leaned back into the hay, ignoring the wizard.
“Arthur.”
Britt did not stir.
“Arthur.”
“…”