I slept through the rest of the day and night as the energy burned through me and my body repaired itself. At last, all the remnants of the Eather energy were gone, and I was able to sit up. I drained another water skin and dug into my rations, consuming nearly a quarter of my body weight.
The tent flap moved, and Aisha stepped inside.
“Is the duel today?” I asked.
“No,” Aisha said. “They wanted time to set up the event. It will be tomorrow at noon in the grand arena. They want the entire city to come and watch.”
“Good,” I said. “Aisha, tomorrow could be very dangerous. Don’t come into work. Stay home. You don’t want to be anywhere near me when this goes down.”
“What are you talking about?” Aisha asked.
“You’ll hear about it,” I said and stood, extending my hand to her. “You’ve been a loyal companion these past weeks. I will remember you.”
Aisha took my hand, her expression troubled. Her fingers squeezed my hand, then she turned and left, only the scent of her cheap perfume filling the air.
---
Guinevere walked down the halls of the palace. She turned a corner and bumped into Arthur. The two stopped and stood there for a moment.
“Excuse me,” Guinevere said, trying to move around him.
“We need to talk,” Arthur said, moving and blocking her path.
“About what?” Guinevere asked with a sigh.
“What happens next after tomorrow?” Arthur asked.
“I leave this kingdom and never see you again,” Guinevere said, her eyes flashing with anger.
Arthur sighed. “You know that won’t happen. He may have beat three champions, a dishonorable fight that I don’t approve of by the way, but he can’t beat me; I am the Duelist.”
“He will surprise you,” Guinevere responded flatly, a small, contemptuous smile spreading across her face.
“You need to prepare yourself for us being an inevitability,” Arthur said. “I won’t force you into my bed, but you will be my wife and Queen of Camelot. You need to leave these childish tantrums behind you and act according to your station.”
“Of the two of us, I am the only one acting according to their station,” Guinevere said.
“I disagree. You gave him your favor,” Arthur said. “That kind of public display is more than just naming him your champion. You might as well have kissed him in full view of everyone.”
“So?” Guinevere asked.
“So?” Arthur asked incredulously, clenching his fist. “I’m your future husband. You’re making me seem like a cuckold. Every representative of the surrounding kingdoms has already heard the rumors about you two.”
“What makes you think they’re just rumors?” Guinevere asked, leaning forward, her eyes like blazing orbs as they bored into Arthur’s soul.
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“You whore!” Arthur spat.
Guinevere’s hand caught him across the face, spinning his head to the side.
“So, it’s fine for you to sleep with anyone who climbs into your bed, but not me?” she asked in disgust. “Your hypocrisy knows no bounds.”
“I will brook no rival in my marriage bed,” Arthur said, rubbing his reddening cheek.
“You must win first,” Guinevere said, leaning forward. “I will never love you; I thought I could once, but the more I see you for who you really are, the more I despise you.”
She stormed off, leaving Arthur alone. He looked at his reflection in the window and sighed. That conversation hadn’t ended like he had hoped. He’d let his emotions get the best of him again. “Sometimes I despise myself,” he admitted to no one but himself.
---
They barred Guinevere from leaving the palace. Furious, she returned to her chambers; she had packed all the things she would take with her and hidden them in the back of her wardrobe. When the authority over transferred from her father to her husband, she was ready to flee with Mordred into the wilderness.
Her nervousness grew when Mordred didn’t come to see her that night. and so couldn’t leave to check on Mordred. Mira had tried to come and see her, but Guinevere couldn’t talk to her. The dread of the looming duel weighed on her, making her more anxious with every passing second. The sun set again, and a portal opened into her room.
Mordred stepped out, and she rushed to him.
“Sorry I wasn’t here last night,” Mordred said. “I was pretty out of it and needed to sleep off the effects of the last duel.”
“I’m just glad you’re here now,” Guinevere said.
---
I ran a finger down Guinevere’s jaw as I tasted her lips. She quivered in my arms as I lifted her up and sat on the bed. Her head fell against my chest, her hair flowing in a cascade down her back and pooling onto the sheets.
“I wish we could go back to our hut by the river,” Guinevere said, running her hand along my chest. “Life was so simple then. Sometimes I regret opening the door with you instead of choosing to stay. It would have made everything easier.”
“I wonder about it too,” I said. “But it would have been selfish ultimately.”
“Selfish?” Guinevere asked.
“We might have had a good life, but what of our child? Trapped with us there forever with no one to play with, and what about when they grew up? No one to fall in love with no way to seek their destiny,” I said. “It’s our job to suffer these things so our baby doesn’t have to.”
“I’m just afraid of what will happen when everything changes,” Guinevere admitted. “I want things to be like they are right now, forever.”
“This will be the last night like this we have,” I said. “One way or another.”
Guinevere’s tears ran down her cheeks, dripping onto my chest. “I don’t want you to do this,” she said. “Let’s just run away. We’ll run and never stop.”
“They’ll find us,” I said, kissing the tears from her face. “They’ll use your oaths to enslave you. I won’t let that happen.”
“Then run and save yourself,” she insisted. “I can’t… I can’t watch you die, not again.”
Cupping her chin, I forced her eyes to meet mine. “This fight is my destiny. No one can stop it and I would rather die for you tomorrow than live a thousand lifetimes without you.”
“I’m afraid,” Guinevere said.
“Have faith,” I said. “Not in gods, but in me.”
She took a deep breath. “I will,” she promised. She shifted her weight, her legs straddling me as she pushed me back on the bed. “But I want to remember this night. If… if the worst happens, I want to look back on this is as our last night together when I’m alone. To remember you when I tell our baby about their father.”
Her lips pressed to mine, then kissed along my jawline and down my neck. My hand found the silk ties of her nightgown and it slipped from her shoulders. Her movements were like liquid as she slid out of her dress. She slowly removed my clothes, her hand running over my body. She settled on me again, our exposed skin hot against the other’s.
Guinevere’s hands ran over the scars on my chest as my hands caressed the smooth skin of her hips. She leaned up and our lips met in a kiss that felt like drinking from a fresh stream after crawling through a desert. I needed more and our kiss deepened in a desperate need for the other. Her touch was like a live wire filling me with a mad need to take in more of her in a desire that couldn’t be satiated.
I couldn’t tell how much time had passed when we finally collapsed. Guinevere laid across me, her body’s curves conforming to fit against me. My hand ran through her damp hair, the strands like threads of fine silk. In that moment, I felt powerful for my duel against Arthur, no longer the daunting life and death struggle I knew in my head it would be. I was the strongest man alive, able to conquer anything before him. No mountain to high, no task too great that I couldn’t conquer it.
Closing my eyes, I drifted off, my fingers still tracing circles over Guinevere’s skin.