Britt turned to face the guard that spoke.
He stood with another guard, Gawain was wedged between them. They had their spears crossed in front of him as the guard spoke. “We found him on the stairwell, watching.”
“It’s fine, you may release him,” Britt said. “Gawain, what has you up at this late hour?” she asked, beckoning to the young man.
“Someone said you hardly get any sleep at night since you stand on the walls of Camelot most of the time. I was wondering if it was true,” the young man said.
Britt kept an acidic smile off her face—she was willing to bet money it was his mother who said that after one of Britt’s knight’s squealed about it.
“It is,” Britt said, turning to look at the countryside.
“Why do you stand watch?”
“I’m not standing watch so much as I am…remembering.”
“Remembering what, My Lord?” Gawain curiously asked as he rested his weight on the castle wall.
“Those who I loved and will never see again. Everyone I lost and so desperately wish I could see just one more time,” Britt said, unable to keep the wistfulness out of her voice as she recalled her mother, sister, and friends. When she turned to look at Gawain the young man held a look of such distress Britt changed the topic. “Or sometimes I dwell on the past week’s activities. Like tonight.”
“What activity?”
“Mmm, my meeting with King Pellinore. Now there is a man who looks like a true king,” Britt dryly said with a touch of jealousy. “He stands like a mountain and nobility and respect practically drip off him. I was wondering how he does it.”
“You very much look like a true king as well, My Lord.”
When Britt turned her disbelieving eyes on the Orkney prince, he protested. “It’s true!”
Britt chuckled. “While I appreciate the sentiments I must disagree with you. I might be tall and a good swordsmen, but physically speaking I am not impressive. I don’t have that air around me most nobility of this time has, and I don’t seem to command respect. If I did…,” she trailed off. She could hardly tell Gawain that if she did his mother wouldn’t be able to sink her claws into the knights of Camelot.
“You’re wrong,” Gawain said with a fierceness that surprised Britt. “You look and act more like a true king than even my father. That air you’re talking about is nothing but snobbery—thinking everyone is beneath you and that you are of higher worth. You listen carefully to everyone, and you treat people with respect—even if they don’t deserve it. You make simple tasks seem grand, and no one is too high or low to escape your notice. If it’s looks you’re concerned about you needn’t worry. Mother’s half jealous because everyone as far as Orkney says King Arthur is the most beautiful being in all of Britain. Besides, you, you can make the world shake with your smile,” Gawain finished, his last sentence was little more than an embarrassed squeak.
Britt was touched by the prince’s outbreak, although he was clearly flustered with himself and stared at the ground. Britt reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Gawain,” she said, waiting until she held his gaze. “Thank you.”
Gawain slumped to the ground in a kneel, as if Britt had shot him.
“My Lord, I have a boon to ask.”
“Yes?”
“Please let me stay here in Camelot and serve you. I will abdicate my claim to my father’s throne—I will cut all ties with my family and consider myself an orphan. I can serve as your shield bearer or, or a kennel master. Please let me stay with you.”
Britt stared at Gawain, trying to keep her shock from showing. She thought it would take years to win Gawain over her to side to become one of Camelot’s knights. She wasn’t expecting a declaration of loyalty and a plea to remain at her side. Besides, it seemed unlikely that Morgause—the ultimate home wrecker—was unable to keep her own children’s loyalty.
“Why do you want to stay?” Britt asked. “You could be a king, Gawain. There is no need for you to serve me when you have your own kingdom.”
“Because I have eyes in my head, My Lord,” Gawain fiercely said. “Even if your knights are blind fools, I see who you are, and I would give my life to follow you,” he said, flushing so deep the color was apparent in the moonlight and crawled all the way down his neck before disappearing in the collar of his cloak.
Gawain looked up imploringly at Britt, like he thought he might have gone too far. Britt flashed him a smile. “I would gladly receive you in my courts, Gawain.”
“Thank you, My Lord!” Gawain reached for her hands and kissed them.
It took a lot of control to keep Britt from wiping her hands off on her tunic. “But,” she said. “I think you should wait to make your decision to stay with me until your mother is ready to leave. A lot can happen in a few days, and something might change your mind.”