Wrongly in Love

30- Doubt

"Ah, Gwen, just in time for dessert!" Lancelot said, looking excitedly at the double chocolate fudge cake set in the middle of the long table as Guinevere entered the banquet hall. Guinevere simply smiled and took a seat next to Odette.

"Come on, come on, it's always more fun to have more people for dessert!" Lancelot beckoned to his sister.

Guinevere looked around the table. "Was I really that late to dinner?" She had just came back from a quick shower.

"No, not really," Lesley said after taking her first tentative bite of cake. "Lancelot wanted to eat early-you know how hungry boys can get. He was like, 'We mustn't let the food get cold!' Anyways, Granger here is a different species- he lived far too modest, he didn't eat much dinner and he even refused to eat dessert." She took another bite, savoring the sweet flavors. "Mmm... It's sweet, but not that sweet. And the cake is so fluffy- Granger, you should try it!"

"It's dark chocolate. Bittersweet," Odette informed her. "Come on, Granger!"

Granger hesitated, and he tasted the cake too. "Mmm... I've never had a meal like this before... I'm used to eating simply."

"We know," Lesley teased. Turning to Guinevere, she said, "We saved a few platters of food for you. I hope that's enough for you, because Lancelot devoured like 50 % of the meat and we wanted to send some food up to Gusion. Come, eat, eat."

"Thanks," Guinevere said. She took her plate of steak, mashed potatoes, and buttered vegetables. But as she ate her meal, she barely inhaled its tantalising aroma and juicy flavor. She was too busy thinking about what Gusion had told her. Not that he shouldn't have admitted- he was right to be honest. But it was making the instructions on the bloodstained parchment harder to do.

Should I really do what I was instructed? Guinevere wondered. There was something about the hood that sets it apart from the others. But should I really follow someone I barely know? Should I tell Gusion or anybody about this?

Guinevere shuddered. She would not tell anybody about this. Her friends might try to stop her- this was a mission that she, only, could do. It was up to her. If her friends doubt her loyalty to them, it'll be fine.

She looked down at her now-empty plate. But what if they don't try to stop me? I've always made assumptions in my head, and look where it's gotten poor Gusion. Good thing it's nothing worse.

I wasn't completely honest to him, either.

"Gwen? Do you still want this last piece of cake?" Lancelot asked.

Guinevere snapped out of her reverie. "Oh, sorry, what did you say?"

The whole table exchanged looks. Odette tapped her spoon on the plate. "Lancelot has been asking you repeatedly if you wanted that slice of cake. You just sat there in silence, saying nothing."

"Oh sorry-" Guinevere said. She looked at Lancelot. "Sorry, sorry, well no, you can have that piece of cake."

"Are you sure? You're missing out," Lancelot asked.

"Nah, I'm fine. In fact, um.. I have a headache, and I need to rest. I'm not in the mood to eat dessert," Guinevere said apologetically and stood up to leave.

Odette looked at her sympathetically. "Aw, you poor thing! Do you want to lie in the infirmary?"

"No, thanks, a few hours of sleep would be fine," Guinevere forced a smile.

"Some pills?"

"No, thanks. I'm alright," Guinevere said with a hint of annoyance, and turned on her heel and left.

Everyone stared at her in shock. "She and Gusion had been acting weird lately," Lancelot said. "Lover's quarrel?"

"Maybe. Or there might be a deeper reason why..." Lesley muttered.

"What?" Granger, Odette, and Lancelot asked in unison.

Lesley tapped her chin in thought. "Maybe each of them has different reasons. Guinevere's been quiet lately, and she always has a hand in her pocket, like she's hiding something."

"Hmm... Interesting," Lancelot murmured.

Back in her room, Guinevere quickly stuffed all her belongings in her bag. There's no time to waste, she said. There would be no time for explanations. This time, she would be the one to protect her friends. She was sick and tired of going from Kingdom to Kingdom to hide in safety, only to have an attack of hoods barely a few days later. After zipping up her bag, she opened the guest room closet. It was overflowing with clothes that Odette had lent her during her stay. All the dresses were glamorous, but she needed something that will make her... inconspicuous.

Hmm. Everyone will be expecting me to wear Violet or dresses, Guinevere thought. After nearly twenty minutes of searching, she was ready to give up (the closet seemed to be enlarged inside by magic). Just as she sighed and was about to close the closet door, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. It was a pair of jeans with a cotton shirt. Nearby was a humongous floppy hat and sunglasses.

Guinevere smiled triumphantly, knowing she had found the right outfit. As she put on her clothes, she felt all her doubts go away.

Lancelot was woken up at dawn by horses neighing. He groaned, thinking it was just a dream. But when he heard those damn horses again, he sat up on his bed grumpily, with a pillow over his head to drown out the noise.

Bloody hell. Who would be riding horses around this time? Lancelot thought, annoyed. Glancing out the window, he was surprised to see a carriage down in front of the entrance. A couple of men in dark clothing were going back inside it. It seemed like they were leaving.

Good thing. Now I can finally sleep, Lancelot sighed in relief. But then he noticed the men's clothing -they were wearing capes - similar to the hoods'.

Hoods? How did they get in here? Lancelot asked himself. That's when he saw another passenger about to board the carriage. He couldn't see its face, as it was covered by a ridiculously large hat. But as the wind blew, Lancelot saw a flash of brown curls under the hat, which the passenger quickly hid again under the hat.

Lancelot winced. He knew only one  person with brown hair like that.

He made a quick dash to Guinevere's room. Surely it wasn't her, he thought, opening the door to her room and expecting to see her asleep on the huge guest bed.

To his surprise, the bed was empty and neatly made. Lancelot made a quick search around the room, desperate to find any object that may belong to her. No such luck. Her clothes, her bag, were gone.

And all that was left was a lifeless petal of a violet, the last sign of the person that had stayed there.