A smile melted the hardness of Merlin’s intensity. “That’s a good lass. Enjoy your walk, mind your brother and take your guards with you,” Merlin said, briefly brushing her cheek with his hand before he bustled out of Britt’s bedroom, making a beeline to the study Sir Ector, Sir Ulfius, and Sir Kay were closeted in.
Britt waited until Merlin’s footsteps disappeared from the hallway before she shook her head and briskly slapped her cheeks. “I am too old to be acting like a lovesick teenager. He shows zero interest in me anyway. And I don’t know why I’m explaining myself to a dog,” Britt grumbled, avoiding looking at her metal plate mirror so she wouldn’t have to see her blush.
Cavall’s tail happily wagged as Britt scowled at the ground. Her self-disgust was interrupted by a tapping noise on her door.
“My Lord?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Bedivere, My Lord. May I come in?”
Britt did a quick inspection of her room—nothing particularly feminine or revealing was out on display—before she answered. “Enter.”
The door opened and Sir Bedivere slipped inside, throwing himself into a kneeling position before even looking at Britt.
“Bedivere?”
“My Lord, I beg of you to forgive me.”
“For what?”
“I have been capricious and disloyal to you. I took a vow as your marshal to serve and protect you, and I have failed pitifully.”
“Bedivere—,”
“I followed the Orkney queen like a mindless animal, acted inexcusably, and cast your favor aside.”
“Bedivere—,”
“I do not deserve your mercy or forgiveness, and I am prepared for whatever punishment you give me.”
“Bedivere,” Britt said. She crouched in front of the kneeling knight, placed her hands on his shoulders, and shook him.
The startled knight met her gaze and Britt sadly smiled. “I am sorry, I took too long to rescue you,” she said.
Sir Bedivere blinked several times before he closed his eyes. “You are too good for us, My King. Certainly we do not deserve you.”
Britt chuckled. “That’s hardly true. Mostly I think it is I who do not deserve you,” she said before standing, tugging on Sir Bedivere’s arm. “I am glad you are back, Bedivere.”
“As am I, My Lord,” he said as he stood.
“Was it bad?”
“Yes,” Bedivere frowned, his face growing stormy. “Most of the time I was muddled and did not know what I was saying. But the few times I would remember, and wouldn’t be able to control my own mouth? Those were the worst,” he glumly said.
“It’s over now. You are once again my faithful marshal,” Britt smiled.
“And you are always my beloved sovereign, My Lord,” Sir Bedivere said, placing a fist over his heart before tilting forward in a bow.
Britt could not help the rush of warmth and affection she felt at Sir Bedivere’s heartfelt words. She reached out and embraced him, doing her best to heartily smack him on the back to make the gesture a ‘man hug’. It wasn’t until Sir Bedivere embraced her back that Britt remembered her situation (supposedly a male) and her state of clothing (armor-less) and started calling herself seven different kinds of an idiot in her head.
Thankfully she was still wearing her fitted under doublet—which was making her sweaty—but even so Britt had a feeling Merlin would scalp her if he knew she was going around, hugging knights.
Britt ended the ‘man hug’ as swiftly as possible, smiling at Sir Bedivere before slapping him on the back again to reaffirm her manliness. “I was about to step outside for a breath of fresh air with Cavall, care to join me?”
“It would be my honor, My Lord.”
The Orkney queen left the following day in a swift, unceremonious exit at dawn.
While Britt had forgiven the queen for her enchantment, few—if any—of Britt’s knights had. As such only Britt, her guards, Cavall, Merlin, Sir Kay—who probably came only to make sure that Morgause really left—and Morgause’s sons went to see her off.
“I apologize, My Lady, that your departure is less… glorious than one would usually throw for a departing queen,” Britt said.
Morgause laughed. “Don’t be cross with your men, Arthur. I took the power of their will from them. They are bound to hold a grudge. Stay safe and take care,” she bid before reaching out to hug Britt, making Merlin squawk. “Make us women proud. I am sending my youngest sister to you, Morgan. She feels as Elaine and I do pertaining to women on thrones, and she will do everything in her power to help you.”
“Thank you,” Britt reluctantly said before she realized that for the first time she was in close quarters with Morgause and her nose wasn’t burning. “Your perfume was part of the enchantment, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Morgause admitted. “And I am fairly sick of its wretchedly powerful scent. It is a fae charm. Any man who smells it is supposed to fall hopelessly in love with the wearer. I had to wear at least twice the usual amount to get a concoction strong enough.”
Merlin snorted. “Childish tricks, something one would expect of a woman.”