by test
“Bless you,” Galahad muttered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Oh, he was a sharp one.
Why couldn’t he just be as dumb as shit? Or even better, why couldn’t he be as randy as his father? If he were more like Lancelot he’d be wooing a lady right now, instead of guarding her door.
“I thank you,” she muttered. Their gazes locked, and she gave into her impish desire to stick her tongue out at him. His eyes widened, but his stern visage didn’t change in the slightest.
He definitely was a party pooper.
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“My princess, are you in need of something?” Gawain asked courteously.
“What?” Wrenching her eyes away from Galahad’s freakishly mesmerizing eyes she turned to lock gazes with Gawain. For some reason she had to stare deeply into his kind eyes to break the spell that Galahad had been weaving over her. Damn. Maybe he was more like his father than she had originally given him credit for. She’d had numerous encounters with Sir Galahad before, and unfortunately for her, he was well aware of her slight dislike of his father.
Even worse, he got along quite well with his father, so that essentially put them at odds with each other. But even though they sometimes didn’t see things in the same light, she’d take Galahad as her husband over Mordred any day.
Collin. Where was he when she really needed him? He wasn’t exactly the type of man that her father probably wanted for her, but still, he had potential. Better yet, he had a heart beating in his chest. And even better, he had red-hot passion burning through him. She knew he did, because she saw it sizzling in his eyes whenever he’d looked at her. Granted, she’d known him for a mere heartbeat, whereas she’d known Mordred much longer, but she knew deep in her heart that Collin was more of a man than Mordred could ever hope to be.
Come for me, and save me, Collin. For once in my life, God help me, but I think I need a knight in shining armor.
She didn’t hate Lancelot per say, but she did loathe the way he treated the ladies at court.
All of them literally bent over backwards to catch his attention and favor, and yet he dallied with them for less than a fortnight and then quickly relieved himself of their burden. The super-galling thing was the fact that the ladies in question didn’t even seem to mind. They took Lancelot’s disinterest with a grain of salt, and then got on with their lives, as he moved onto another lady’s bed. It was downright disgusting and it turned her stomach, especially when it was glaringly apparent that Morganna was so besotted with Lancelot. He ignored Morganna at every opportunity, and though it still stirred Molly’s rancor, even when she knew that Morganna would eventually win him, Molly knew that it shouldn’t have taken so much hard work on her aunt’s part. Sometimes it seemed to Molly that Morganna loved Lancelot more than he loved her in return. If Molly could get away with it she’d knock Lancelot over the head hoping that it would knock some bloody sense into him!
Ehangwen was still grimly silent, and Molly knew that she had to do something before a battle erupted in the great hall. If the tension kept growing in the hall it would slide its slinky fingers around her neck and strangle the life out of her.
“I wish to speak to my father,” she whispered. She let out a shocked gasp when her voice croaked out like that of a frog. Wincing, she swallowed, and hoped that the next time she opened her mouth her voice wouldn’t sound so dreadful.
“His Grace is busy at the moment. And you, Princess, you should be resting,” Gawain’s voice was light and breezy. He smiled at her, and the dimple in his one cheek became quite noticeable. Galahad on the other hand could sense that something was up. He was giving off suspicious vibes and the way he scrutinized her made her want to run back into her chamber and jump into bed. He looked at her as if she were committing an unthinkable sin! Well, she’d have to teach him a thing or two about thinking so little of her!
“You are too weak to go beyond your chambers, my lady,” Galahad decided, reaching an arm out for her. She pulled away from him, and groaned as she fell against the cold stone wall of the open door.
“Do not be telling me how I feel, Sir Galahad,” she rasped. “Oh, holy crap!” Her face pinched up with pain. Both Gawain and Galahad let out sharp outraged gasps at the same time.
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She blushed. Being seriously injured was a nuisance that she couldn’t afford right at the moment. “If I do not make haste to be by my father’s side, something terrible might happen. “
She didn’t really care for how she sounded. She was coming off as the greatest Drama Queen in history, but she had to pull out all of the stops to keep Arthur from doing something he’d later regret. Clamping her mouth shut she tried to control her tongue before she became even more unladylike than she already was. If she weren’t careful, Galahad and Gawain would think she’d lost her mind and gone as mad as the mad hatter.
“King Arthur shall handle the situation magnificently,” Galahad decided. Molly let out a loud highly undignified snort. Okay, so she really wasn’t that concerned about keeping up her ladylike appearance. The men in the castle knew she had a warrior’s blood coursing through her body. Why keep up some form of pretense? She could fight just as well, or better than Galahad or Gawain, and she was sick of pretending to be something she wasn’t. A chill raced up her spine, almost as if someone had walked across her grave. She pulled the blanket tight around her body and sighed.
She had lived with modern conveniences for so long, that she had almost forgotten how drafty a castle as large as Tintagel could be. It didn’t help matters that she was standing out in the cool hallway, with the nearest fireplace quite a jaunt away.
Her thick hair had been loosened from its plait, and it spilled liberally down her back and across her chest, which was beginning to annoy her to no end. She almost felt as if she had a heavy helmet on her head. She had forgotten too much about this time, including the length of her hair. She would have to take extra care when she went to sit down, as her hair nearly reached her bottom. She knew that the knights were forbidden to touch her in an angry or rash manner, so if she could just will her legs to carry her to the steps they would be forced to assist her down, because if she fell and cracked open her head, her father would be livid, and then he’d crack their heads. A whisper of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
The only way for her plan to succeed was if she tried to play up to Sir Gawain’s sympathetic nature. He had always carried a soft spot for her. In his eyes she could do no wrong. She did have one advantage to coming back to her past and living it the second time around. The knowledge she’d gained the first time around would serve her well the second time around. Gawain’s heart would always be loyal to her. He viewed her in the same light that he viewed her father. Winning him over would be as simple as one, two, three. Besides that, Gawain and she had a personal relationship of sorts. They were cousins, and she had known him since Arthur had publicly claimed her as his daughter. Sometimes the bonds you forged in childhood were strong enough to carry you through your entire adulthood. Gawain and she had formed one of those long lasting bonds. She had been at his deathbed the first time around, after he’d been fatally wounded in a battle. She choked back a cry. Her raging emotions were really getting to her. If she didn’t gain control over her mind and body, something awful would happen and she’d be the cause. Her eyes widened when she noticed the bobbing multi-colored swirls and orbs that were dancing around Galahad’s and Gawain’s head.
“Oh, that’s so not good,” she mumbled. She swallowed thickly and froze when Gawain looked to the side. His cheeks flushed, and then he glanced toward her. She gave him a sheepish smile. He’d been exposed to enough magic through his lifetime to know what she had done.
Accidentally done, yes, but still…get a hold of yourself, Molly. Thankfully, he remained quiet.
Alerting Galahad to her little slip of control really wouldn’t do any good whatsoever. She could no more control her magic doing funny
things when she was recuperating, than she could control the effect of faerie dust.
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Darting out into the hall, she brushed past Sir Gawain. His cheeks blossomed with even more color, and he sidestepped her. Then, without missing a beat, he fell into step behind her.
She had made it. Freedom! Her thoughts ran cold, as the coldness of the stone slab flooring finally hit her. Why could she feel the cold? Where had her moccasins gone to? She stared down at her bare feet and chewed on her lower lip. Had she done something wrong in the summoning spell? Doubtful. She’d never been the best pupil when it came to learning spells that didn’t pertain to fighting, but this was simply ridiculous!
‘You cannot have anything from the future brought into the past. It could dilute the timeline. ’ Merlin’s telepathic voice whispered against her mind. ‘Do not disappoint me again, Molly. There is much at stake here and we cannot do anything to jeopardize what must be. ’
“Oh, f…fiddlesticks,” she muttered, wincing when the soft padding of her foot hit a rough stone. Her teeth nearly rattled before she quickly clamped her mouth shut. Her movements were slowed considerably because she was so sluggish, and she made her way to the steps as if she were a tortoise. She nearly slipped and fell, when suddenly out of nowhere, Sir Gawain appeared, and caught her elbow. She fell against him, and had to bite down on her lip again to keep from shooting her mouth off. She had to hand it to Gawain; he did have a remarkable sense of timing.
She smiled gratefully up at him, and then was startled nearly out of her wits when Galahad emerged on her other side.
“You are most certainly your father’s daughter,” he muttered. Her jaw dropped at the sight of a boyish grin splitting across his normally ultra-serious features.
“You should smile more,” she observed. “It becomes you greatly. “ At her compliment, Galahad’s cheeks blushed ever so slightly. She caught a glimpse of her Aunt Morgause as they cautiously made their way to the stairwell. Sir Gawain walked on her open side, since there was no such thing as a railing, and Galahad walked on her other side. They were both doing a bang up job of making sure that she didn’t slip and embarrass herself. But what the hell, at this point in time, it wouldn’t have made much difference. As soon as she stepped down into the hall, looking like a wayward wood nymph, the tongues would start wagging. She didn’t really care what anyone thought about her, but the rumors might reflect badly on her father.
The low stilted murmuring that had filled the hall died out completely as Sir Kai caught sight of her, and dropped his goblet of wine. The clattering sound it created echoed off the walls.
Each and every one of Arthur’s knights stood up and inclined their heads respectfully in her direction. Her gaze instinctively met Arthur’s. Reproach glittered in his eyes, but he stood up as well and inclined his head to her in a gesture of respect. She smiled. Her father was many things but he had never been a fool. She was glad to see that he was wise enough to realize that he had to save face, and act as if her sailing down into Ehangwen dressed in her nightgown and wrapped with a blanket was nothing out of the ordinary.
To her credit, Queen Gwen looked as if a smirk played at the corners of her mouth.
Could it be that her state of undress actually amused Gwen? Oh, perish the thought. She had never seen Gwen laugh, and yet, at the moment, Gwen seemed perilously close to the brink of busting a gut. The seat next to her father had remained empty, showing that even though she was ill, a place of respect was still held for his only child. Her heart thrummed. Why couldn’t Collin be here to see her now? Missing him wasn’t something she’d expected. But she did. She missed him terribly. She hadn’t known him for long…but she felt as if she’d known him for more than one lifetime.
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Arthur put his hand out to her and she quickened her pace. She let out a loud gasp when she stumbled over a rut in the flooring. Galahad skillfully righted her and kept her from falling face first on the floor.
“All hail, Princess Mary,” her father declared. His powerful voice reverberated off the walls. Everyone in the great hall either bowed or curtsied. When she passed by Sir Aries she caught him murmuring that she had a lot of pluck and courage. She smiled softly at his compliment. It seemed like an age had passed before she reached the King’s table. Placing her hand in his, she met his eyes. A proud gleam sparkled within their vibrant depths. She swept her gaze around the room. She stopped biting her lip when her eyes found no trace of her wayward magic. At least her rioting emotions were under control, for now.
She settled into her throne-like chair, and then waved away a serving wench when she tried to pour her wine. She didn’t need anything to muddle her head this eve. Besides, she already had a headache and if she drank any of that wine it would only intensify. She smiled at her father, and then raised the goblet of water to her lips. She sipped at it and winced at the odd taste. It would take her a while to get used to it again. A humming noise met her ears. She met her Aunt Morgause’s eyes. Pure hatred reflected back at her. Caught off guard, she shakily placed her goblet down onto the table. It fell onto its side and she righted it before anyone could notice. Her father looked at her with a question in his eyes. She shrugged her shoulders and tried to give him a reassuring smile. He followed her gaze to Morgause. Then full understanding passed across his face. His fingers tightened around his goblet. Her heart thundered. He couldn’t lose his control.
‘Father, leave it. It’s nothing. I can handle this on my own. ’
Her father’s eyes glittered. He never had liked it when she’d used telepathy to correspond with him. But no anger lit his eyes, only desperation. Her heart sank. Arthur knew that his hands were tied in this matter. He had to wait for the right moment to strike against Morgause and that moment was not now.
“Arthur, my brother, you should teach your daughter to have some sense of decorum.
She is not a young lass anymore; she needs to behave in a manner befitting her high station in society. “ Morgause’s snide voice caused everyone to shift in their seats. Molly’s stomach tightened. Morgause gave Molly a smug smile that nearly curdled Molly’s blood.
She wanted to strangle her aunt. She had to breathe very deeply in order to maintain her composure. She knew that she had to stay silent, until she could think of something to say that wouldn’t feed the already ignited fire.
Glancing sideways at her father, she noticed the corner of his mouth twitching. He strengthened his grasp on his silver, jewel-encrusted goblet. He raised it slowly to his lips, while he leveled his gaze at Morgause.
“The way that my daughter dresses is none of your concern. She has been ill, she can hardly be expected to drape herself in fine brocade, silk, and gold,” he said, as Gwen hid a smile behind her uplifted hand. Molly had known that Gwen held no fondness for Morgause but she hadn’t been aware of the depth of Gwen’s dislike.
“When she is my wife, I shall make her behave. She will learn to curb her tongue or suffer the consequences,” Mordred’s voice boomed through the hall. All of her father’s knights gasped angrily, and her father let out an outraged roar. He stood up, and had Excalibur drawn and pressed against Mordred’s throat before Molly could even blink. She was in a state of shock the like of which she had never suffered. She blinked again, and then met Gwen’s horrified stare. When had her father learned to move with such swiftness? Her foggy brain cleared when LADY PENDRAGON MARLEY MATHEWS 59
she closed her eyes. How could she have forgotten? Her father was the chosen one. Of course, he could move with the swiftness of an Elf. Her mouth went dry and she had to slurp down the rest of her water before she let out a dry cough.
Molly put her hand on Gawain’s arm and caught his gaze. Her cousin thankfully, had taken the seat on her left, and he patted her hand as he whispered, “I do not believe that my uncle will kill my brother. My King has more wisdom than all of us combined, he shall not make the wrong decision. “
Rage coursed through Arthur. The depth of his emotions rolled off of him and nearly buried her in their intensity. She may have been physically injured but her magical abilities were working quite well. So well in fact, that they could make an appearance any minute now. If her father thought he had trouble now, what kind of commotion would erupt if she accidentally turned Mordred into the snake in the grass that he was? The atmosphere was tense and Lot’s knights had their hands on the hilts of their swords, as did her father’s knights. She stared over at Adria, and then she heard Adria’s voice in her mind.
‘We must cease this at once!’ Adria insisted. Molly nodded. Her heart continued to thump against her ribcage. She did her best to call upon her last vestiges of strength. She stood up, and reached out for her father’s sword arm.