CHECKMATE [ARTHUR PENDRAGON]

Chapter 8: The Gates of Avalon II

Soon, she retreated back into the unknown territory of her mind where no one could reach her; not until she was coaxed out by the warmth of her trusted companion. His mane shone in the sunshine, sleek and silky, as he nudged her chin with his snout.

"Hey, boy." A gentle smile graced her features as she kissed his nose and tangled her fingers in his mane. Breathing in sync, it was as if he grounded her.

"Good morning, Your Highness." The voice snapped her attention, momentarily startling her until her gaze landed on the plump stable hand. Bumbling slightly, he rushed over and bowed. "He's been rather restless this morning, Ma'am...Although it seems you've calmed him."

Arwyn smiled once more, gingerly stroking the black stallion's neck as she muttered: "Yes, we have that effect on each other." The boy smiled, offering an apple to the horse as it's owner turned her attention back to him. "Tir, have you seen Arthur this morning?"

"Yes, Ma'am. He left near an hour ago with Lady Sophia."

"Oh." The disappointment was harder to swallow that she thought it ought to be. "Thank you." Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin slightly and ignored the emotions that threatened her resolve as she handed the young man a silver coin. It was not much but he soon gasped and thanked her profusely for her generosity, bowing deeply. However, the small act of kindness did nothing to dissuade the sinking feeling in her chest. Nor the lump in her throat as she nodded once and made her way back towards the castle.

Sir Geralt's expression turned thunderous despite the glorious weather. His eyes grew darker than the thickest forest in his homeland as he fell instep with his charge. Glancing sideways, he noted the expression that befell her face: a tiny crease between her brows as she gnawed on her bottom lip. His fist clenched his sword a little tighter - perhaps it was a reflex, the desire to defend her from any harm, or perhaps he truly wanted to take a swing at the royal prat as soon as he returned. As the sun caught the glistening at the corner of sea green eyes, the knight spoke up: "Perhaps we could ride out?" He offered but as her expression contorted to a scowl, he added: "Or Sir Leon offered to aid your crossbow training?"

"I don't feel like it."

"Why don't we visit Merlin? As much as I nag you to be seen with people of your own station, the boy does make you happy."

"He's probably in the stocks." With these words, she looked angered. However, a flash of betrayal soon brandished her expression; pinching the skin between her brows as she muttered, "And if he is in the stocks, he is covering for them which means he knew of Arthur's change of plans and didn't have the decency to tell me." The softness in her tone reminded the old knight of rare moments throughout her childhood. Rare moments that she had been let down by her father as his royal duties forced him to abandon their day together at a time before she had learned the workings of court.

As her guardian sighed roughly, she piqued a brow and turned to study his expression. Visibly cringing at the thought, he asked: "Do you want to...talk about it?"

An unexpected laugh escaped her pink lips, surprising both of them. A grin brightening her eyes as she spoke: "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I do not wish to burden you. I know how uncomfortable you find the baring of your soul." Sir Geralt attempted to smile as she placed her hand on her heart and threw her head back in a rather dramatic fashion, however, his concrete expression offered nothing but a grimace. Taking a deep breath, Arwyn returned to what she perceived as a stoic presentation and placed a hand on his arm as she assured, "I am perfectly fine. I promise." Before nodding once and disappearing into the castle as the gruff man grumbled:

"And a perfectly terrible liar..."

*

The stone wall of her solitude was cold against her back; cooling her through the soft fabric of her dress. The only sounds were the turning of pages and Geoffrey of Monmouth's quill as it scratched across rolls of parchment. The quiet was exactly what she needed as she hid from the world in the pages of an old book of legends. It had always been one of her mother's favourites, one she would read in the carriage as the family travelled to neighbouring kingdoms for peace talks.