Guinevere (Book 1)

Chapter 9

He turns our hands so our fingers lace together and I don't resist. After the initial shock of the contact between us, I'm now very aware that my heart is beating at a ridiculous rate. But it feels good. It feels like this is the most natural thing in the world. I hold Lancelot's hand in return, and his rough hand envelops mine completely. I look up at him, his face an expression of both hope and wariness.

After a long moment, Lancelot gently breaks his hand from mine. "Er...I'm not sure why I just did that. I mean, I do...but I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." He's right, he shouldn't have. But he did and now his hand is gone from mine, I want it back.

Lancelot stands and runs his hand through his hair, "Please, forgive me, my Lady. You are a Princess and I am a reckless knight, who forgot his place."

I shake my head, "There is nothing to forgive, Lancelot. I didn't exactly object."

Frustration creeps into his voice, "What the hell was I thinking? I risked your reputation, your future. If anyone had seen, my head would be struck from my shoulders and deservedly so."

"What?! No, I would never let that happen!"

"Well, maybe you should! A knight should know so much better than this..."

I stand and stop him from turning away from me by putting my hand on his arm. He backs up a step out of reach but doesn't look away.

"Here it's just us, and I'm not about to go back and tell anyone anything! Not to save your head or my reputation, but because you are the only person who has ever made me feel like something other than a title and a crown. That means something to me. You mean something to me."

I probably shouldn't have said that, but it's true and I won't let him shoulder guilt he doesn't need to feel.

Taking a few steps closer, he searches my eyes. "And you mean something to me. We bearly know each other but when I'm around you..." He stops himself from finishing that sentence and shakes his head.

I step closer and take his hand in mine. "I know... I can't explain any of it, but I feel the same."

I feel him squeeze my hand as his eyes soften. "But this is wrong...it should feel wrong. But it doesn't, does it?"

My mouth opens and closes silently a few times before I find the right words, "No, it doesn't; it feels like I've known you all of my life. When I'm around you everything feels right and I feel like just an ordinary girl."

"You could never be ordinary, Guinevere." Lancelot brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face.

My heart feels like it might burst and his words make me feel like the most special girl in the world.

At that moment the breeze rustles the branches of the surrounding trees a little more vigorously. The oasis grows a little darker as the sun disappears behind clouds and I shiver.

"Are you cold, Guinevere?"

"No, I'm alright. It's just the sun going behind the clouds and the breeze."

Lancelot looks up at the sky through the canopy of the willows, "I think there is a storm coming, I can feel it. Maybe we should head back soon, or your Father will have my head if this results in you catching a cold."

I don't want to leave, but I can feel the change in the air in the grove. "I wouldn't let him take your head, besides you were merely escorting me on a ride."

Lancelot shoots me a sarcastic look. "I don't think this..." he says while raising our joined hands, "while being alone in a secluded woodland constitutes as 'merely escorting you on a ride'".