Britt feared that if she wore armor, the last little pieces of her old life would disappear entirely. Sure she looked flat and boyish when wearing tunics with her under doublet, but armor transformed her into an entirely different person—a person Britt didn’t want to be quite yet.
Britt was stuck on the throne for over an hour while the castle was a mad house of activity. As soldiers escorted Morgause and her children into the castle, taking the maximum amount of time under Merlin’s instruction, guest bedrooms were aired out, Britt’s throne room was decorated with banners, flags, and fresh flowers, and the most polished, impressive, and well bred knights in Britt’s kingdom were assembled.
Britt’s butt started cramping up when a musician blew a horn and announced, “Queen Morgause, wife of King Lot, ruler of Orkney, and Prince Gawain, Prince Agravain, Prince Gaheris, and Prince Gareth.”
Everyone held their breath. All of the knights and noblemen in the throne room stood at attention as the doors were opened.
Morgause was roughly what Britt expected. She was beautiful and poised in a red wine colored gown. Her beetle black hair was coiled in an elaborate braid, her lips were tilted in a slight smile, and she moved like silk in water.
Her sons, however, were not what Britt would expect as spawns of Lot and Morgause.
The oldest boy was dark haired like his mother, but he did not have a shred of her confidence. His eyes were fastened on the floor, his shoulders were slumped, and he moved like a mouse. He looked, Britt estimated, about 18 or 19.
The next oldest boy was still in the gawky, skinny stage of the early teenage years. His face seemed to be fixed with a permanent scowl, but Britt could see the damp marks on his tunic where he wiped his sweaty hands.
The youngest boys couldn’t have been older than nine or ten. They stuck together, resembling baby possums with their big eyes and necks sucked into their shoulders.
When Morgause reached the base of the stairs to Britt’s throne, she curtseyed. “My Lord, King Arthur,” she said in a voice that was just as husky as Britt’s.
“Queen Morgause, welcome to Camelot,” Britt said.
Morgause bowed her head. “I apologize, for we have arrived uninvited and unannounced… but I wanted to see you, My Lord.”
“Mm,” Britt said, glancing at Merlin.
“Please allow me to introduce my sons. This is Gawain, my eldest and the heir to the throne,” Morgause said, placing her hand on the shoulder of the oldest boy.
Britt briefly held a hand to her forehead. Gawain, it was a name Britt remembered from Lyssa’s—the King Arthur crazy friend she had left behind in the twenty first century—tirades. He was supposed to be one of Arthur’s best knights. Was it possible that such a knight could be the offspring of her worst enemy? Not to mention the boy looked about as knightly as a rabbit.
“And this is Agravain, Gaheris, and Gareth,” Morgause said, going down the line.
Britt inclined her head before she stood and trooped down the stairs, snapping her fingers to call Cavall after her.
“Well met,” Britt said, Merlin joining her at the last stair. She discreetly rubbed her nose, Morgause was heavily perfumed. The scent, lilies, would have been delightful, but Morgause was wearing an overwhelming amount. It made Britt’s nose itch and her head throb. “This is Merlin, my counselor and close friend,” Britt said.
“Oh, we have met,” Morgause said, a hint of a frown passing over her lips.
“Indeed, we unfortunately have,” Merlin agreed.
Britt shifted her attention away from the glowering enchanter and queen and smiled at Gawain. If he was to be one of her court it would be smart to start working on him immediately. “Welcome, Gawain.”
The young man lifted his gaze to meet Britt’s eyes and spoke. Britt saw his mouth move, and heard his voice, but instead of speaking English it was like he uttered another language.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat your words?” Britt asked.
Gawain spoke again, and again Britt heard nothing but a garbled rush. Britt opened and closed her mouth a few times, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.
The snotty preteen boy, Agravain, said something. He was incomprehensible, although Britt felt the puffed up pride that was smoothed over his words to hide his fear.
“Um… Merlin,” Britt said, taking a step back when one of the younger boys peeked out from behind his mother.
“Yes?” Merlin said, removing the glare from his features as he turned to face Britt.
Britt indicated to Gawain. “Can you…”
Merlin blinked. “Can I what?”
Britt stepped closer and muttered in Merlin’s ear. “Can you understand them?”
“You mean you can’t?”
“No.”
A look of worry flashed over Merlin’s face before he beamed at Morgause. “I apologize for the interruption. What brings you to Camelot, Morgause?”
“I am here as an extension of goodwill,” Morgause said, smiling at a few of the nearest knights.
The knights blushed and elbowed one another when Morgause looked away.