Guinevere's Grail | ✓ [BOOK 2]

~ 35 ~

MORGANA STARED DOWN AT his new metal hand in awe, clenching and unclenching his fist to get a feel for it. It looked more like armor than a hand, oddly reminiscent of Crane's offer he'd refused. It was sharp and dangerous, but as beautiful as anything made by the Sídhe. To his surprise, the hand was flexible, lightweight, and sensitive. It was a thousand times better than his wooden replacement, it felt better.

What's more, she offered him armor to match for his good hand, just as decorated and effective.

"Thank you," he breathed, taking another long look at his palm. "It's perfect. I don't know how to repay you."

"You don't have to repay me, remember?" Mab told him. "Everything I give you is free, because I want to give. That's the best thing you can do for me, let me be generous."

Morgana gulped, hesitating to accept it. He wasn't good at accepting gifts, it didn't do well with his nature, and it had nothing to do with his faery blood. But if that's what she wanted, he'd try to be okay with it. He nodded and said nothing.

"Well then," Mab said. "You look in need of a bath and a fresh change of clothes, can I show you to your room?"

She took him to the same room he was in last time, ushering him into a washroom where a warm tub of water was already waiting for him.

"Why are you doing all this?" he asked as he slipped his tunic from his shoulders and onto the floor. The Fair Folk had no shame around each other, even when they were royalty. "The hand, letting us stay here, what's in it for you?"

She helped him slip into the water, and he groaned as the warmth settled over his stiff limbs. "You are my charge," she said. "You're one of my own. As your Queen, I am obligated to help when help is asked of me. What's in it for me? I get to be a better Queen than that awful bitch, and I get to go to sleep at night knowing I at least made one person's life better."

As much as he loathed to trust any faery royalty, he couldn't deny how safe he felt with Mab. She was more genuine than Titania by a long shot, whatever her intentions may be.

She didn't leave his side, and truthfully, he didn't want her to. After he was scrubbed clean, she left for a moment, only to return with an armful of garments for him to change into once he'd dried himself enough. It was proper clothing this time, leather and metal and a heavy cloak, not a color in sight. He felt like himself again, as much as he could at a time like this.

"You're not a prisoner to them anymore," she observed. "What changed?"

Morgana raised a shoulder. "We've got a common goal this time. Save the Fair Folk. I don't know what will happen after we save them from this disease, but for now, we'll get more done if we work together."

"Have you thought about it?"

"Thought about what?"

"What'll happen after," she answered. "I assume Kit will try to bring back Camelot anyways, and you still don't want that to happen. What's going to happen when you've saved your people?"

Morgana swallowed. It wasn't something he'd agonized over, but maybe he should've thought about it before he went and kissed the bastard and got attached. He couldn't help himself anymore, even though he knew he was only signing himself up for pain. Their paths were destined to part after this.

"I guess maybe I'd hoped that--" He fidgeted with his new hand. "It's stupid of me, I shouldn't assume. But I figured maybe he'd try to see my side now that we're... whatever we are. He cares about me, Mab, maybe he cares enough not to do it."

The Queen gave him a sad smile. "You're right," she said, much to his surprise.

"Really?"

"You shouldn't assume."