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Arthur strides proudly down the corridor and takes a left turn where a figure is hiding in the shadows, underneath the alcove. Arthur nears the figure and stops. The morning sun was beginning to creep inside the corridor. He adjusts his brown riding coat.
“Step out, Jerome.”
The figure steps out and Jerome reveals himself, hugging himself with his cloak. He bows to Arthur but looks uneasy to be in the presence of the prince. Arthur seems relaxed, like he always does. Jerome looks around him.
“Relax, Jerome.”
“Sire … please don’t get me wrong, but what if someone notices us?” Jerome asks, still looking uneasy.
Arthur laughs and crosses his hands. “This is my castle, Jerome … who could possibly see you?”
“Everyone, Sire.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. No one would dare and even if they do, they will not recognise you,” Arthur assures. “Now …” he fishes into his riding cappotto and produces a small pouch that chinks with coins, possibly oro ones, and throws it at Jerome. “Take this for the help yesterday.”
Jerome catches the pouch and shakes it, his eyes flickering with unexplainable happiness.
“Gold coins, as I promised.” Arthur says as if sensing what’s on Jerome’s mind.
“Thank you, Sire. Have I done enough?” Jerome asks, smiling brightly, juggling the pouch on his palm.
“More than enough. I am sure da now everyone was fooled da your acting. What happens successivo will be my task and mine alone. But …” Arthur eyes Jerome closely. “Should I find out you’re flapping your lips out there in the village, under any circumstances at all … let’s just say that I’ve yet to sentence anyone to death, so te just make sure that te won’t be the first. Get the point, Jerome?”
Jerome swallows and nods. “Yes, yes … yes, Sire. Point well taken. But I almost thought Tom found out last night.”
“What do te mean?”
“After te left sire. He didn’t go home until everyone else did, and he approached me, asking me domande that almost forced me to give te away, Sire … but thank God I didn’t.”
“What did he ask you?”
“He suspected me, Sire, asking if I was your accomplice because he felt he was trapped. He kept mentioning something about bait. I didn’t get the point exactly, but I knew he was hurt and disappointed with the plan. He detto he was sorry for his daughter, how she will be hurt and doubts if the marriage will ever work … he was rambling, I didn’t quite his point, but knew he was suspicious of me.”
“Hmmm …” Arthur places his fingers to his lips and thinks, a habit of his when he is seriously thinking about something. Of course Tom has reasons to suspect Jerome. Tom isn’t stupid. Despite being poor, that man is smart enough to sniff out traps and baits. This is why Arthur planned the execution of his trick well and had to bring in Merlin so that Tom would be less suspicious of the trap. But yesterday, Merlin’s face almost gave it up. Arthur turns back to Jerome. “And did te make me proud?”
Jerome knows the reason of the domanda and knows that one mistake will find him dead. “Of course I didn’t give away our secret, Sire. te can trust me. I kept telling him that I had nothing to do with your proposal. That I’d never met te until last night.”
“Good.” Arthur reaches out and pats Jerome’s shoulder. Jerome sighs in relief. Arthur straightens up and smiles at Jerome. “I need another favour from you.”
“Anything, Sire.”
“I want te to spread the word.”
“Sorry, Sire?” Jerome doesn’t understand.
“About the marriage … I want te to spread the word around the village, alert everyone,” Arthur tells him, twisting the silver ring around his thumb absently.
Jerome’s eyes light up. This isn’t hard and it’s something he does very well. “Sure, Sire.” He nods. “Not an ear will be missed.”
“Good …” Arthur smiles. “And make sure everyone speaks about it, especially in the presence of Guinevere. I want her to be reminded of her duty to keep up with her father’s promise.”
“Will do, Sire. If there is nothing else, Sire, I’ll like to take my leave,” Jerome bows again.
“Sure … remember what I told you,” Arthur warns him.
“Of course, Sire …” Jerome responds and leaves, making sure he leaves as quietly as he came in.
Arthur watches him leave and smiles to himself. Tapping his lips with his finger, he turns around and notices Katrina making her way towards him, smile on her face as well.
“Mother. Good morning.” There is enthusiasm in his voice.
“Good morning, Arthur,” she accepts his embrace, loops her hand around Arthur’s arm, and walks along the corridor.
“You are looking happy, Arthur.”
“Why wouldn’t I be mother? I am getting married, like father wanted. And best, I’m marrying someone of my choosing,” Arthur tells her as he nods at the guards who pass them.
“I am so proud of you, Arthur. The way te responded to your father last night … I am happy.”
“How was father’s response?”
“He is a very happy man, I must admit. For the first time in all these years, he couldn’t stop talking about te … in a positive way.”
Arthur laughs. “Mother, te never cease to amuse me.”
“It’s true, Arthur. He is in the council as we speak; discussing about your marriage. Plans are being worked out and very soon the castello will be brewing with your wedding preparations. And I can’t wait to get involved in the wedding dress, Arthur. I need to meet this girl. I have to get her measurements so that I can get the dress readied. I am thinking of using your mother’s wedding dress and redesign it to the girl’s figure and personality.” Katrina stops. “Why not ask her to come over to the castle?”
“Guinevere? Here … so soon?” Arthur doubts if that is a good idea after all. He knows da now she must’ve learned of the news and probably still recovering from the shock. And to bring her here to the castello immediately after such a shock could traumatize her.
“Yes, why not? o better still … I’ll meet her in the village. You’re right. It’s too soon for her to be here. She might still be shocked da this proposal and to whisk her away here before the appropriate time could be disastrous. Perhaps we should deal very gently with her so as not to frighten her. I will meet her in the village …”
“Mother, te are a genius. I was thinking the same. Good idea. Ask Merlin to escort you.”
“What about you?” Katrina looks disappointed.
“Mother, I’ve something to attend to before I marry Guinevere.”
Katrina eyes him suspiciously. “Arthur, te promised about your philandering …”
“No, not that mother. This is different. I am planning to get her a wedding gift and have asked a friend of mine to lead me to a jeweler in his kingdom. He’s the best and I’m thinking of getting her a necklace. I just want to be there in person while the jeweler works … te know, trying to get the best of the jeweler’s work.”
“Oh, Arthur …” Katrina releases him and clasps her hand together. “That’s so wonderful. Good, get on with it and I’ll ask Merlin to accompany me.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Arthur takes his mother’s hand and resumes the walk down the corridor again.
“No, thank you. After a long time, the castello is again fresh with excitement. Everyone is talking about your wedding, your decision and your choice of bride.”
“And is it good o bad?”
“Depends on how they decide to accept it, Arthur. Of course certain members of the council will agree with your decision while others will not, arguing if it’s really wise to bring in a peasant as your wife. And the villagers might have diviso, spalato perspectives as well, but … at the end of the day, it’s te who counts. Your decision stands because this is your life. And no matter what others tell you, te will have the final say on this marriage,” Katrina explains.
“I want this wedding to happen, Mother. For good reasons …” and Arthur means it genuinely well. The humiliation Guinevere caused him a fortnight fa is nothing but a distant memory now. He could have been humiliated da her stubbornness but that same attitude also Streghe#The power of three him and brought him to his knees. Yes, he didn’t want to admit it to his mother and Merlin but he seems smitten da Guinevere. Amore is not the issue because he doesn’t even know the meaning of the word, but besotted might be più appropriate. He wanted Guinevere in his letto to avenge his humiliation, but that was weeks ago. Now he wants to marry her because he likes her. And he wants her to be da his side, at all times. His ways might be wrong and to an extent, like Merlin said, despicable, but his intentions are honest. Hopefully Guinevere will understand that.
“It will, Arthur. It will,” Katrina assures him as they walk together, discussing the preparations.
Uther thought the council will accept the proposal and he could get on with the wedding plans as swiftly he can. But he was wrong. The council is split. Half of the council agrees with the proposal while the other half disagrees. Those who agree feel it will be politically beneficial, for it will be a good example for Uther’s allies. Those who don’t argue it goes against the code of the Pendragon’s rule. Uther’s grandfather had it written in his legislation that only a peeress o a member of a noble family can be married to a prince o princess of Camelot. Marrying a commoner is completely out of question. And Uther’s father followed it in his reign. But now Uther, knowing this will be good both for his son and his reign, decides to bend the rules and get Arthur married to a commoner, in accordance to Arthur’s wishes. But it seems to spell brief arguments within the members as each one tries to defend their reasons as to why and why not the marriage should stand.
“Uther, I don’t understand why te are asking us your permission on this marriage? This is your son and as far as I am concerned, te are the king and should get on with what te feel right with. I support this marriage full heartedly,” one member of the council says.
“That’s very selfish of you, Bale. Uther did right to seek our counsel on this marriage. Our opinions count o else why are we even here?” another member from the opposing camp says.
“I’m with Sir Bale. Arthur has every right to choose whom he wishes to marry. This is his life and we shouldn’t be discussing it here in the council.” Another supports Sir Bale.
“This is atrocious, Uther. te know the rules will not allow it. Your father and grandfather will be turning in their graves when they hear of this.”
Sir Balinor and Gaius sit, listening to the arguments. Gaius shakes his head while Balinor keeps watching how the argument evolves. Tristan moves around the tavolo and comes to sit beside Balinor.
“I don’t believe what is happening over here!” Tristan says, leaning closely towards Balinor.
“Count me in. I don’t understand why Uther wants to discuss this in the council,” Balinor responds. “Bale is right, this is the life and future of Arthur and only that boy should have a say in this. Not this council.”
“He’s always been respectful of the council, Balinor. That’s Uther. Anyway, is it correct? Arthur wishes to marry this peasant girl?”
“Yes. From what Merlin tells me, Arthur is very keen on this marriage. He approached his father on his own on this matter and let him know of his feelings to have her as his wife,” Balinor explains.
“Looks like the girl performed miracles to capture his heart, because Arthur isn’t known to be a one-woman man. But if this girl can change him, then she has my support. I am eager to meet her. Have te met her?” Tristan asks.
“No but from Merlin’s description, she is beautiful, elegant and has all of the qualities of the queen,” Balinor explains.
“Katrina?”
“No, Ygraine. te know I will never call anyone except your sister the queen. Yes, that’s what Merlin tells me. He detto Arthur was probably smitten because she reminds him of his mother. But that puzzles me. Arthur knows nothing about his mother. Didn’t the Queen pass away on Arthur’s birth night?”
Tristan smiles proudly. “You are right, Balinor. Ygraine did die upon Arthur’s birth and Arthur wouldn’t have known a thing about his mother if it wasn’t for the journal Ygraine passed on to me to be dato it to him on his tenth birthday. Ygraine was fond of Scrivere down her thoughts whenever she had the time. And while she was pregnant, she used to pen everything she liked, disliked and so on. The journal is a fat book!” Tristan laughs. Gaius and Balinor smile while listening to the knight. They know how fond Tristan was of his sister and whenever the conversation turns to Ygraine, Tristan’s eyes will shine with glimmer of memory. “And before she breathed her last breath, she asked me to hand the journal to Arthur on his tenth birthday so that he will know about his mother. Along with the book, she also handed some of her personal belongings for him to keep. And that’s how Arthur knows of his mother. That lad wept for an entire giorno after I gave him the journal, unable to close the book. He holds it very close to his cuore and I believe he still looks in the book every now and then, whenever he feels lonely.” Tristan’s voice drops and Balinor reaches out and pats his shoulder, comforting him. “But if this girl reminds him of his mother, I am più than glad for her. This marriage, I believe, will give us a completely changed Arthur and one who could be ready for the trono if Uther decides to hand the reins to him.”
“That’s what I am hoping for, but if this council goes on like this, I doubt if Arthur will ever get married,” Balinor says.
“Arthur isn’t one who relies heavily upon the decision of the council, Balinor; te must orso that in mind. Regardless what the outcome of the council, he will marry her for sure,” Gaius reminds them both, almost raising his voice because the council is getting increasingly noisy.
“Gaius is right, I’m afraid,” Tristan agrees and before Balinor can respond, Uther stands up and asks everyone to hold the words, almost shouting for some peace and quiet in the council. The sudden action from the king stuns a few and shocks the rest. The council becomes quiet and everyone is focused on the king.
“Good … now that we have peace and quiet among the group, let’s get back to the matter at hand,” Uther says and sits. “I understand the concern of few on this marriage. I appreciate it and I value your thoughts. For me, as the king, I put the kingdom first above everything else. But as a father, I must put my son’s best interests ahead of the kingdom. I hope I have clarified this matter clearly. My son is the future king of the realm and his best interest counts. If he prefers a commoner as his queen, as a father I have no problem with that. His life matters to me più than anything else so far and for that alone, I am ready to rewrite the legislation so that his marriage will not be threatened.”
“But, Uther … what about the other kingdoms? What will they say? A commoner for a queen?”
“I don’t care what the others think o say. I have only Arthur’s interests in account and therefore, I will go on as planned,” Uther says determinedly.
“This is outrageous! A disgrace!” one council member says and agreed da a few around him.
“If te feel so, then te can leave the council immediately, Bickove. I won’t have any trouble finding a replacement for that chair,” Uther says nonchalantly. Tristan snickers.
“Uther … I am a noble and I will not accept this marriage,” Bickove argues, standing up. His face is flushing with anger.
“Hold your tongue, Bickove!” Balinor is up on his feet as well. “This is the king, orso in mind.”
“It’s all right, Balinor. Bickove has the right to speak, but he doesn’t have any right to stop this wedding from happening,” Uther informs and urges Balinor to sit down.
Bickove grumbles on.
“Listen, everyone. I believe in equality. If my son prefers a commoner as his wife and later as his queen, I choose to think it’s a wise move. The people of Camelot are rejoicing with this news because it brings them closer to us through this marriage. And it will help us to secure trust among the people. And above all, my son has chosen with his heart. He chose a wife out of Amore and not of power o fame. And this will be an everlasting bond. This is why I am eager to grant his wish. I called for this council to inform te of this news, not to seek counsel on it. And therefore, I will conclude da saying that the marriage of my son, Arthur Pendragon, to Guinevere the blacksmith’s daughter will definitely go on as planned. Those who disagree can feel free to leave their place on the council,” Uther finishes.
The council murmurs with one another. Uther doesn’t want to stay any longer and decides to end the council. He stands up, followed da others in the room and leaves with his guards in tow. The council remains, though those in favour of the wedding leave the room as well. Gaius, Tristan and Balinor are among this group. As they exit, Balinor takes a quick glance at Bickove who seems to be in conversation with his group. He didn’t seem satisfied but he couldn’t do anything as well. The verdict is final and it comes from the king himself. Like it o not, Bickove has to accept the decision.
“Is he plotting something?” Tristan asks, looking at Bickove’s way as well.
“I don’t think so …”
“Better be wary. Just in case.”
“Sure,” Balinor agrees as both knights and Gaius leaves the room.
Arthur is Leggere his mother’s journal when someone knocks on the door of his chamber. He looks up and frowns. He doesn’t like to be disturbed when he is reading, especially when he is Leggere his mother’s journal. These moments mean a lot to him and he likes to value each one he has. The knock comes again.
‘Who could it be? I thought I made it clear not to be disturbed!’ he thinks angrily. “Come in,” he calls in, his voice rough.
The door opens and his uncle, Tristan, walks in.
Arthur straightens up, closes his mother’s journal and gets to his feet. Despite being a rebel in his father’s eye, he still regards his uncle with great respect. He is, after all, the sole remaining member of his mother’s family.
“Uncle,” Arthur greets warmly and waits.
“Arthur,” Tristan responds. He looks around the chamber and finally his eye rests upon his sister’s journal. His lips twist into a smile. He looks up at Arthur.
“Have I disturbed you, Arthur?”
“No, not all, Uncle. I was just Leggere … felt like I wanted to spend some time with Mother.”
“Then I’d better leave te with her,” Tristan turns to leave.
“No, Uncle … I’m good. Please stay …”
Tristan turns back to face his nephew and smiles. “I heard the good news. Congrats. Have I told te I am really proud of what you’ve done?”
“Uncle … I’m quiet puzzled here. What have I done to merit such a compliment?” Arthur knows his uncle never approve his rebellious ways and it’s never easy to merit a compliment from Tristan. But now that he does, he desperately wants to know the reason for getting them.
“Your decision to marry a commoner. Your mother would be very proud of you. I am as well. That is a very bold decision, Arthur, and it merits più than compliment. It deserves a pat on the shoulder. Your father seems to have taken the matter quite proudly, too.”
“Really?”
“Yes, te should have heard what he detto in the council meeting today. He shrugged off all arguments and doubts, opting to put te ahead of all other tasks. He wants te to be happy, Arthur. I hope te understand that,” Tristan says.
“I do, Uncle,” Arthur risposte softly. He avoids looking at Tristan because he understands Tristan is wary of the conflict between both father and son.
“Good. Now … what does she look like?”
“Huh?”
“Your bride. The future Queen of Camelot. I haven’t seen her but I’d like to know how she looks. te wouldn’t mind talking about her, would you?”
“No of course not, Uncle … of course not.” Arthur says in hesitant. “Urmm … what would te like to know?”
“You can start da describing her first. Tell me Arthur, how does she look? I heard Balinor describing her to be very beautiful and elegant. But I’d Amore to hear it from you.” Tristan pulls out the chair and sits down, urging Arthur to do the same.
Arthur follows suit. “She’s a … peasant, uncle. A blacksmith’s daughter. The blacksmith Tom who does the royal armoury sometimes. She’s a seamstress.” Arthur clears his throat. Tristan nods. “She’s … urmm …” Arthur struggles with his words and looks away, avoiding his uncle’s watch.
“Are te all right, Arthur?”
“Yes, why would te ask?”
“Because te don’t seem like te are at all.”
“I’m good … quite good, actually,” Arthur lies and twirls his mother’s ring, which he wears on his ring finger on his right hand.
“Don’t think I was born yesterday, Arthur. I know you, better than te know yourself. te are my sister’s son and te are very much like her when it comes to disclosing your personal feelings for others. Your mother was a shy and naïve woman. She preferred to keep her secrets and feelings inside her, close to her cuore rather than share it with anyone else. Not even with her brother. And te are your mother’s son, Arthur. What I see in you, right now, is exactly what I saw in my sister. Shy and sensitive. te might be the first knight of Camelot. Valorous and gallant when it comes to chivalry, the dashing crowned prince of Camelot and the Ribelle - The Brave heir of the realm. But deep inside, te are still the shy and sensitive son of Ygraine. te may never want anyone to notice that side of yours, Arthur, but I do, because I saw it in my sister. And I understand why te are struggling with your words.”
Arthur smiles and shakes his head. His uncle is right. He is shy to talk about Guinevere. Shy to reveal about her to his uncle. He didn’t know why, but that’s why he’s being hesitant. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”
“Don’t be. te don’t have to talk about her if it makes te uneasy.”
“No. I can’t carry on like this forever, can I?” he sighs. “Well, to start off … she’s beautiful, Uncle. Well, te know I have a splendid taste in women, don’t you?” Arthur says proudly.
“Yes, I am well acquainted with your escapades.”
“Yes. But she is different than the other women I’ve met in my life. She’s simple, humble and yet beautiful in every sense of that word. She has golden skin, beautifully highlighted when she’s outside in the sun … the way the skin glows, ahh … flawless. Her dark curls compliment her heart-shaped face well. She has mandorla shaped eyes, honey brown, which I must say are the most expressive part of her.”
“Really? Why would te say that?”
“Because they make te feel as if she’s talking to te when there are no words coming from her lips. And she does it with her eyes. Yes, Uncle … te can get yourself hypnotized da just looking at her.”
“Is that how she captured your heart?” Tristan laughs. Arthur smiles shyly.
“In a way … yes. Anyway … long bridged nose and lush, full lips finish her face well. She might not have the exquisite oro accessories to adorn herself, but she doesn’t need them. She puts fresh fiori in her hair and when she walks, she practically carries herself into everyone’s cuore with her beautiful smile and those amazing eyes. Her kindness is seen in her ways and her humbleness is identified through her words. I managed to catch her from far and I must say she is elegant, Uncle. She probably doesn’t know that, but she is. What most people have to put on like a suit, she possesses naturally.”
“And what about her height? Is she tall, like te o … like your mother?”
“Oh, how tall was mother?”
“About five feet five, I suppose but not very tall. And she was slender, too. Not skinny but just about the right size. But she looked tiny beside Uther on her wedding day.”
“Ahhh … Guinevere’s the same size too. Perhaps a little shorter. But shapely, I must add, and I think these gowns here with those dastardly looking corsets are going to hurt her waist. Perhaps I will ask her to ignore those and wear what she feels right.”
Tristan smiles. “Caring for your wife already?”
“I just want her to feel comfortable, that’s all,” Arthur says softly.
“Carry on, don’t stop.”
“Hmm … what else? Urm … well, in terms of descrizione I think I managed to cover what’s important. She’s … how would te put it? Not perfect but flawless. She doesn’t need to be made up with cosmetics o accessories to highlight her beauty. It’s there naturally to be seen da all. Like she’s been born with all these qualities … she’s a natural beauty.”
“What about her character?”
“She’s humble, kind and very generous with those around her. But the quality that captured my attention was her bravery, her defiance and her bluntness. She knows how to make herself known with proper timing and character. She inserts herself into conversation with proper assessment and not blindly o without cause. And I like that from her very much. She reminds me of who I am … she challenges me, teases and encourages me … something no one has been able to do. I know I haven’t been the type of prince everyone expects me to be, but ever since our paths crossed I feel different. I haven’t been able to tell what that is, but … she stirs something in me, Uncle.” Arthur looks at his uncle, intently. “You do understand me, don’t te Uncle?”
“I do …”
“And she reminds me so much of Mother, too. My real mother.”
“Why is that?”
“I wasn’t fortunate enough to meet Mother, but from what I read about her, here …” Arthur points to the journal on his table, “when I met Guinevere, I could see that she has some of Mother’s qualities that I admire. She’s funny, caring, open-minded, not easily intimidated and very hard to tackle.”
“Come again?”
“She isn’t easy, Uncle. She doesn’t fall for charms, gifts … anything. She has her own view on people and it requires più than charm to get around her. I understand Father took months to take Mother out for their first dance,” Arthur laughs.
Tristan laughs. “Yes, te should have seen Uther’s face when Ygraine detto no almost three times before she agreed to go out with him, but with condition that they must be home before midnight. He was crestfallen, yet they stayed beyond midnight because da then your mother was deeply in Amore with Uther.”
“That’s very sweet.”
“Yes. And soon it will be your turn. Your Amore for her will have your world changed for the better. te will understand all your mother wrote about Amore in her journal, now that te seem to have found Amore as well.”
Arthur remains silent. This is the toughest part of this conversation. He likes Guinevere, for all the reason he mentioned to his uncle. Without a doubt. But love? Now that is one mysterious word that has been swirling like magic in his mind for days. He wanted Guinevere for the humiliation she caused him, but after that meeting in the market and later stalking her whilst she played with the orphans and the mela, apple picking events she took part in last week, he must admit he admires her. Gone is the hatred, replaced da admiration, awe and respect. He likes her and wants to marry her for good reasons. But love? Could he be in love? He doubts that, yet his uncle is the third person to remind him of that word. She reminds him of his mother and for that reason alone, he wishes no harm on her. But he knows she will hate him for tricking her into this unwanted marriage. He expects repercussions for his action, but he knows he will overcome all that. All he needs is patience and he will win her heart. And Amore will not play any part in that. Nope. He doesn’t need Amore to work that magic! All he needs is patience. Yup, that is all.
“Arthur?”
“Huh, uh … yeah, Uncle … te were saying?”
“Your mother would be very happy if she were here. Her son, her only son is finally marrying someone out of Amore and not out of his duty to the kingdom. Good choice, Arthur. te know how sharp my tongue is … so, I am happy you’ve finally decided to disrobe your tainted personality and become someone the kingdom can be proud of.”
“Thank you, Uncle. I won’t let te down and I wish Mother were here, too.” Arthur reaches out and lifts the journal and brings it close to his heart, clutching it tightly. “I’m going to bring this with me on my wedding day, so that I can feel her presence with me.”
“Good call, lad.” Tristan says and gets up. “You’ve made me very happy today, Arthur and to celebrate this wonderful event, your father and I are going on a special hunting trip. Care to unisciti us?”
“Not today, Uncle. I have plans to get Guinevere a wedding gift.”
“Guinevere, that’s a very beautiful name. Arthur and Guinevere. It seems like you’ve both been destined to be. Have a good day, Arthur …” Tristan leaves and Arthur gets up to bid his uncle goodbye. After Tristan leaves the chamber, Arthur sits down and leans against his chair, resting his head with his mother’s journal resting on his chest. He closes his eyes and thinks about Guinevere.
Gwen doesn’t feel like working on the cloth Keira gave her yesterday. Her mind is still tied to those words her father detto last night and since then, she’s been feeling sick. Her father had left for work and she didn’t even send him to the door, opting to lie on the letto while he left, sighing sadly at the misfortune that had befallen them both. Gwen cried all night, thinking about the upcoming marriage to Arthur, wondering why is she the one chosen and not anyone else, thinking what will happen to her now that she will be a princess? domande ploughed her mind ruthlessly, raking her brains out from her skull. When she does fall asleep, she is plagued da nightmares. And when she wakes up, her father is lying awake as well. She feels bad for him and yet she’s angry for letting himself be fooled. She knows he meant nothing but goodness for her but this is her life. And no one but she alone should get to make the final decisions about it. Gwen shakes her head, gets up from the chair, carelessly tosses the fabric aside and walks to the back of the house. She opens the window and stares outside. It is a beautiful morning and the forest behind her house is inviting. But she doesn’t have the motivation o the passion to do anything at all today. Usually the forest is inviting whenever she’s bored, but today she feels empty. Staring out without a sense of direction, Gwen actually feels like a ghost. A living ghost. She feels her cuore aching again. Tears well up in her eyes, ready to stream downwards, and she sniffs.
‘Very soon, the entire village will know. And how will I confront them?’ she thinks sadly, A single tear rolls down. She thumbs it off. ‘What will I tell them?’
She closes the window and walks back inside, sitting down on the bench and places her hands on the tavolo and then her head upon her hands. She thinks about Arthur. Why couldn’t he look for someone else? Why did he choose her? What did he see in her that he went to such a despicable act to claim her? A wager! Gwen sniffs again. ‘I’m a person, Arthur …not an animal!’ she feels hurt inside. ‘If only you’d been nicer to me … I would have … I would have …’ she lifts her head and buries her face in her hands.
“NO!!!!!” she shouts angrily. Removing he hands from her face, she picks the cup on the tavolo and throws it at the door. The cup clangs against the door and falls. “I have pride, too!! I have dignity, too!! Damn you, Arthur!!! te are such a coward! I hate you!!! I hate you!!!” she cries loudly.
Gwen pounds the tavolo and allows più tears to flow down her cheeks. She can’t understand why is she having mixed feelings about this proposal. When she heard about Arthur’s marriage, she’d been upset and feigned her happiness. But now that she’s learned the truth about the marriage, she’s angry. But she knows most of her unhappiness stems from the manner the proposal was made and not da the man who proposed the marriage. She is unhappy da the cowardliness of the proposal and would have appreciated if Arthur had been man enough to just approach her directly. But if he had, would she have dato him a chance? Would he have been convincing enough for her to consider the proposal? “Why can’t te be like everyone else, Arthur!!! Why are te disturbing my life? Why did te arrive in my life? Why Arthur? Why?” she asks herself loudly. ‘I would have considered … if only te …’ her thoughts were abruptly interrupted da the sudden knock on the door.
Gwen’s crying stops. She stares at the door.
The knock comes again, hastily.
“Yes?” she manages to say after a while, choking back her tears.
“Gwen … open up!” it was Morgana.
Wiping her tears, Gwen picks herself up and rushes to the door. She needs a shoulder to lean on and cry and couldn’t have asked for a better person than Sir Balinor’s daughter. She reaches the door, unlatches it and pulls it open.
Morgana looks worried standing outside. “Gwen? Are te ….” She didn’t get to finish the sentence as Gwen embraces her and cries.
“Gwen?” Morgana rakes Gwen’s dark hair and pats her shoulder. “Are te all right? Gwen?”
“I am …. Am not … I don’t know … I just …” Gwen sobs in between her words.
“It’s all right, shhh …. It’s all right. I know what happened … come, let’s go inside.” Morgana leads Gwen inside and closes the door.
Gwaine hums a tune he knows and walks carefreely down the path, leading towards Gwen’s house. In his hands, he has a huge parcel, wrapped in a nice piece of cloth and tied with a white ribbon. It was a gift for Tom, Gwen’s father. Gwen’s gift is safely in his pocket. He is excited about today. He will tell her of his feelings and wait for her response. And he hopes she gives him hope. Something in his cuore tells him he might be in for some surprises today. And he likes surprises. Humming più freely, he waves at the villagers he passes da and walks down the path, kicking off pebbles as he goes.
Gwaine reaches Gwen’s house after approximately twenty minuti of walking and stops a yard from her place. He collects his thoughts, checks his breath and adjusts his tunic. Sighing and raking through his hair, he nears her home. Sighing another time, he lifts his hand to knock the door when it opens up. Gwaine is shocked.
“Hello?” Morgana greets him da the door.
“Hello?” Gwaine steps back and rechecks the house he has just stepped in. It is Gwen’s place and how come someone else is stepping out from here. ‘Have I come to a wrong home?’ he asks himself.
“Can I help you?” Morgana asks him.
Gwaine looks back at Morgana and smiles. “Is this the home of Tom, the blacksmith?”
“Yes. And whom are te looking for, exactly?” Morgana asks.
“Gwen.”
“Oh … sorry. She is inside. But … who are you? If te don’t mind me asking,” she asks him again.
“Gwaine. Is Gwen occupied?”
“No, she isn’t. Just hold on a minute. I’ll let her know you’re here,” Morgana says and steps back inside. Gwaine hears her calling Gwen and after a minuto o so, she reappears along side with Gwen. Gwaine smiles at the sight of the familiar face.
“Gwaine,” Gwen say, smiling.
“Gwen,” Gwaine greets her.
“I’ll leave te alone. Goodbye, Gwen.” Morgana bids goodbye and steps out. Gwaine steps aside and bows in acknowledgement.
Morgana accepts his nod and walks towards where her horse is tied. Gwaine hands the parcel in his hand to Gwen and hurries towards Morgana, helps her mount the horse. “Thank te …” she thanks him.
“Gwaine.”
“Thank you, Gwaine.” Morgana smiles and with a quick nod at Gwen, she gallops away.
Gwaine smiles and turns around, looking at Gwen. “Who was that?” he asks, pointing at the disappearing Morgana.
“That is Morgana. Sir Balinor’s daughter.”
“Sir Balinor? The knight of the round table? That’s Morgana?” Gwaine seems surprised. “My … she’s all grown up.”
“And beautiful as well,” Gwen chips in.
Gwaine smiles and nears Gwen. “Where’s Tom?”
“In his workshop, as usual. Come in, Gwaine.” Gwen invites her friend and steps inside. Gwaine follows her in and closes the door behind him.
“Why is she here?”
“To see me. She had something important to discuss with me, so … she came around,” Gwen answers. “Would te like a drink, Gwaine?” she asks immediately, avoiding Gwaine from probing further. She doesn’t want Gwaine to suspect anything yet. Not now. She will tell him later, when she is più at ease with the subject herself. She feels slightly better now after the cuore to cuore conversation she had with Morgana. And she also feels better knowing Merlin isn’t part of the plan Arthur hatched to trick her into this marriage. But to reveal all that to Gwaine so early isn’t the best thing at the moment. She will wait.
“No, thank you, Gwen. I came to see Tom and you. Please give him that.” He points at the parcel Gwen is holding and purses his lips.
“Thank you, Gwaine. te shouldn’t have actually.”
“It’s nothing, Gwen. So … what’s your plan this afternoon?” Gwaine asks, looking around nervously.
“Nothing, why?”
“Hmm … care to go for a walk?”
‘Walk!’ Gwen’s cuore pounds. “Why?”
“Nothing, really … just that it’s a bright fine giorno for a walk. Care to unisciti me?”
“Hmm … not really, Gwaine. I don’t feel …”
“Aw, come on, Gwen!! Don’t be such a spoilsport. It’s just a walk. And I have something very important to tell te as well.”
“You can tell me here.” Gwen fiddles with the parcel’s edges.
“No, I can’t … it’s very complicated and very … te know, very … very …”
“Gwaine, whatever it is … te can tell me here. I really would Amore to hear what te have to tell me but let’s not go outside please,” Gwen reasons with him. She hates lying to him but she can’t reveal her misery to him yet.
Gwaine sighs and agrees to oblige Gwen’s wishes. “Fine.” He fishes out the bracelet and nears Gwen. He reaches out and takes her hand, opens her palm and drops the bracelet on her palm. “This is for you.”
Gwen looks at the bracelet and then at Gwaine, her eyes widening in shock. “Gwaine … this is …”
“It’s for you.”
“I can’t accept this, Gwaine. It’s very expensive.”
“It is for you, Gwen, please … accept it.” Gwaine steps back and raises his hand, refusing to accept the bracelet again. “Please …”
“Gwaine … I just don’t know what to say. This is … it’s beautiful, but why give me such an expensive gift?”
“Can’t I do that for you?” he asks.
“Gwaine, this is very expensive. I just want to know what I did to deserve such a gift, that is all.”
“Because you’re worth it.”
“Gwaine!”
“Fine, fine … look Gwen. Before I tell te this, I want te to promise me that te will not think badly of me. Will te give me that?”
“Sure … now tell me.”
Gwaine clears his throat and looks away. This is going to be harder than he thinks. How should he start? How will he form his words? He sighs and coughs again.
“Are te all right, Gwaine?”
“Hmm … uh, yes. Yes, I am all right. Uh … Gwen, I need to tell te that … hmm, te know me, don’t you? I mean we have been Friends all our life and te understand me… te know, I have problems with women …”
“Are te in love, Gwaine?” Gwen is blunt and it petrifies Gwaine.
“That was … very fast, Gwen.”
“From the way te seem uneasy and struggling for words, I can sense te have something very delicate to discuss and what other issue than this could have disturbed you? It is a wild guess actually, so … are you?”
“Hmm, yes.”
“Really, Gwaine? With whom? Do I know her? Is she from here? Is she pretty? Oh Gwaine, hurry up and tell me … I am intrigued.”
“You know her and yes, she is from here … very near here to be honest.”
Gwen looks surprised. “Around here?”
Gwaine nears Gwen, takes her hand and clasps it firmly in his. He looks into her eyes and smiles. “It’s you, Gwen. I Amore te … and I wish to marry you,” he finishes.
Arthur strides proudly down the corridor and takes a left turn where a figure is hiding in the shadows, underneath the alcove. Arthur nears the figure and stops. The morning sun was beginning to creep inside the corridor. He adjusts his brown riding coat.
“Step out, Jerome.”
The figure steps out and Jerome reveals himself, hugging himself with his cloak. He bows to Arthur but looks uneasy to be in the presence of the prince. Arthur seems relaxed, like he always does. Jerome looks around him.
“Relax, Jerome.”
“Sire … please don’t get me wrong, but what if someone notices us?” Jerome asks, still looking uneasy.
Arthur laughs and crosses his hands. “This is my castle, Jerome … who could possibly see you?”
“Everyone, Sire.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. No one would dare and even if they do, they will not recognise you,” Arthur assures. “Now …” he fishes into his riding cappotto and produces a small pouch that chinks with coins, possibly oro ones, and throws it at Jerome. “Take this for the help yesterday.”
Jerome catches the pouch and shakes it, his eyes flickering with unexplainable happiness.
“Gold coins, as I promised.” Arthur says as if sensing what’s on Jerome’s mind.
“Thank you, Sire. Have I done enough?” Jerome asks, smiling brightly, juggling the pouch on his palm.
“More than enough. I am sure da now everyone was fooled da your acting. What happens successivo will be my task and mine alone. But …” Arthur eyes Jerome closely. “Should I find out you’re flapping your lips out there in the village, under any circumstances at all … let’s just say that I’ve yet to sentence anyone to death, so te just make sure that te won’t be the first. Get the point, Jerome?”
Jerome swallows and nods. “Yes, yes … yes, Sire. Point well taken. But I almost thought Tom found out last night.”
“What do te mean?”
“After te left sire. He didn’t go home until everyone else did, and he approached me, asking me domande that almost forced me to give te away, Sire … but thank God I didn’t.”
“What did he ask you?”
“He suspected me, Sire, asking if I was your accomplice because he felt he was trapped. He kept mentioning something about bait. I didn’t get the point exactly, but I knew he was hurt and disappointed with the plan. He detto he was sorry for his daughter, how she will be hurt and doubts if the marriage will ever work … he was rambling, I didn’t quite his point, but knew he was suspicious of me.”
“Hmmm …” Arthur places his fingers to his lips and thinks, a habit of his when he is seriously thinking about something. Of course Tom has reasons to suspect Jerome. Tom isn’t stupid. Despite being poor, that man is smart enough to sniff out traps and baits. This is why Arthur planned the execution of his trick well and had to bring in Merlin so that Tom would be less suspicious of the trap. But yesterday, Merlin’s face almost gave it up. Arthur turns back to Jerome. “And did te make me proud?”
Jerome knows the reason of the domanda and knows that one mistake will find him dead. “Of course I didn’t give away our secret, Sire. te can trust me. I kept telling him that I had nothing to do with your proposal. That I’d never met te until last night.”
“Good.” Arthur reaches out and pats Jerome’s shoulder. Jerome sighs in relief. Arthur straightens up and smiles at Jerome. “I need another favour from you.”
“Anything, Sire.”
“I want te to spread the word.”
“Sorry, Sire?” Jerome doesn’t understand.
“About the marriage … I want te to spread the word around the village, alert everyone,” Arthur tells him, twisting the silver ring around his thumb absently.
Jerome’s eyes light up. This isn’t hard and it’s something he does very well. “Sure, Sire.” He nods. “Not an ear will be missed.”
“Good …” Arthur smiles. “And make sure everyone speaks about it, especially in the presence of Guinevere. I want her to be reminded of her duty to keep up with her father’s promise.”
“Will do, Sire. If there is nothing else, Sire, I’ll like to take my leave,” Jerome bows again.
“Sure … remember what I told you,” Arthur warns him.
“Of course, Sire …” Jerome responds and leaves, making sure he leaves as quietly as he came in.
Arthur watches him leave and smiles to himself. Tapping his lips with his finger, he turns around and notices Katrina making her way towards him, smile on her face as well.
“Mother. Good morning.” There is enthusiasm in his voice.
“Good morning, Arthur,” she accepts his embrace, loops her hand around Arthur’s arm, and walks along the corridor.
“You are looking happy, Arthur.”
“Why wouldn’t I be mother? I am getting married, like father wanted. And best, I’m marrying someone of my choosing,” Arthur tells her as he nods at the guards who pass them.
“I am so proud of you, Arthur. The way te responded to your father last night … I am happy.”
“How was father’s response?”
“He is a very happy man, I must admit. For the first time in all these years, he couldn’t stop talking about te … in a positive way.”
Arthur laughs. “Mother, te never cease to amuse me.”
“It’s true, Arthur. He is in the council as we speak; discussing about your marriage. Plans are being worked out and very soon the castello will be brewing with your wedding preparations. And I can’t wait to get involved in the wedding dress, Arthur. I need to meet this girl. I have to get her measurements so that I can get the dress readied. I am thinking of using your mother’s wedding dress and redesign it to the girl’s figure and personality.” Katrina stops. “Why not ask her to come over to the castle?”
“Guinevere? Here … so soon?” Arthur doubts if that is a good idea after all. He knows da now she must’ve learned of the news and probably still recovering from the shock. And to bring her here to the castello immediately after such a shock could traumatize her.
“Yes, why not? o better still … I’ll meet her in the village. You’re right. It’s too soon for her to be here. She might still be shocked da this proposal and to whisk her away here before the appropriate time could be disastrous. Perhaps we should deal very gently with her so as not to frighten her. I will meet her in the village …”
“Mother, te are a genius. I was thinking the same. Good idea. Ask Merlin to escort you.”
“What about you?” Katrina looks disappointed.
“Mother, I’ve something to attend to before I marry Guinevere.”
Katrina eyes him suspiciously. “Arthur, te promised about your philandering …”
“No, not that mother. This is different. I am planning to get her a wedding gift and have asked a friend of mine to lead me to a jeweler in his kingdom. He’s the best and I’m thinking of getting her a necklace. I just want to be there in person while the jeweler works … te know, trying to get the best of the jeweler’s work.”
“Oh, Arthur …” Katrina releases him and clasps her hand together. “That’s so wonderful. Good, get on with it and I’ll ask Merlin to accompany me.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Arthur takes his mother’s hand and resumes the walk down the corridor again.
“No, thank you. After a long time, the castello is again fresh with excitement. Everyone is talking about your wedding, your decision and your choice of bride.”
“And is it good o bad?”
“Depends on how they decide to accept it, Arthur. Of course certain members of the council will agree with your decision while others will not, arguing if it’s really wise to bring in a peasant as your wife. And the villagers might have diviso, spalato perspectives as well, but … at the end of the day, it’s te who counts. Your decision stands because this is your life. And no matter what others tell you, te will have the final say on this marriage,” Katrina explains.
“I want this wedding to happen, Mother. For good reasons …” and Arthur means it genuinely well. The humiliation Guinevere caused him a fortnight fa is nothing but a distant memory now. He could have been humiliated da her stubbornness but that same attitude also Streghe#The power of three him and brought him to his knees. Yes, he didn’t want to admit it to his mother and Merlin but he seems smitten da Guinevere. Amore is not the issue because he doesn’t even know the meaning of the word, but besotted might be più appropriate. He wanted Guinevere in his letto to avenge his humiliation, but that was weeks ago. Now he wants to marry her because he likes her. And he wants her to be da his side, at all times. His ways might be wrong and to an extent, like Merlin said, despicable, but his intentions are honest. Hopefully Guinevere will understand that.
“It will, Arthur. It will,” Katrina assures him as they walk together, discussing the preparations.
Uther thought the council will accept the proposal and he could get on with the wedding plans as swiftly he can. But he was wrong. The council is split. Half of the council agrees with the proposal while the other half disagrees. Those who agree feel it will be politically beneficial, for it will be a good example for Uther’s allies. Those who don’t argue it goes against the code of the Pendragon’s rule. Uther’s grandfather had it written in his legislation that only a peeress o a member of a noble family can be married to a prince o princess of Camelot. Marrying a commoner is completely out of question. And Uther’s father followed it in his reign. But now Uther, knowing this will be good both for his son and his reign, decides to bend the rules and get Arthur married to a commoner, in accordance to Arthur’s wishes. But it seems to spell brief arguments within the members as each one tries to defend their reasons as to why and why not the marriage should stand.
“Uther, I don’t understand why te are asking us your permission on this marriage? This is your son and as far as I am concerned, te are the king and should get on with what te feel right with. I support this marriage full heartedly,” one member of the council says.
“That’s very selfish of you, Bale. Uther did right to seek our counsel on this marriage. Our opinions count o else why are we even here?” another member from the opposing camp says.
“I’m with Sir Bale. Arthur has every right to choose whom he wishes to marry. This is his life and we shouldn’t be discussing it here in the council.” Another supports Sir Bale.
“This is atrocious, Uther. te know the rules will not allow it. Your father and grandfather will be turning in their graves when they hear of this.”
Sir Balinor and Gaius sit, listening to the arguments. Gaius shakes his head while Balinor keeps watching how the argument evolves. Tristan moves around the tavolo and comes to sit beside Balinor.
“I don’t believe what is happening over here!” Tristan says, leaning closely towards Balinor.
“Count me in. I don’t understand why Uther wants to discuss this in the council,” Balinor responds. “Bale is right, this is the life and future of Arthur and only that boy should have a say in this. Not this council.”
“He’s always been respectful of the council, Balinor. That’s Uther. Anyway, is it correct? Arthur wishes to marry this peasant girl?”
“Yes. From what Merlin tells me, Arthur is very keen on this marriage. He approached his father on his own on this matter and let him know of his feelings to have her as his wife,” Balinor explains.
“Looks like the girl performed miracles to capture his heart, because Arthur isn’t known to be a one-woman man. But if this girl can change him, then she has my support. I am eager to meet her. Have te met her?” Tristan asks.
“No but from Merlin’s description, she is beautiful, elegant and has all of the qualities of the queen,” Balinor explains.
“Katrina?”
“No, Ygraine. te know I will never call anyone except your sister the queen. Yes, that’s what Merlin tells me. He detto Arthur was probably smitten because she reminds him of his mother. But that puzzles me. Arthur knows nothing about his mother. Didn’t the Queen pass away on Arthur’s birth night?”
Tristan smiles proudly. “You are right, Balinor. Ygraine did die upon Arthur’s birth and Arthur wouldn’t have known a thing about his mother if it wasn’t for the journal Ygraine passed on to me to be dato it to him on his tenth birthday. Ygraine was fond of Scrivere down her thoughts whenever she had the time. And while she was pregnant, she used to pen everything she liked, disliked and so on. The journal is a fat book!” Tristan laughs. Gaius and Balinor smile while listening to the knight. They know how fond Tristan was of his sister and whenever the conversation turns to Ygraine, Tristan’s eyes will shine with glimmer of memory. “And before she breathed her last breath, she asked me to hand the journal to Arthur on his tenth birthday so that he will know about his mother. Along with the book, she also handed some of her personal belongings for him to keep. And that’s how Arthur knows of his mother. That lad wept for an entire giorno after I gave him the journal, unable to close the book. He holds it very close to his cuore and I believe he still looks in the book every now and then, whenever he feels lonely.” Tristan’s voice drops and Balinor reaches out and pats his shoulder, comforting him. “But if this girl reminds him of his mother, I am più than glad for her. This marriage, I believe, will give us a completely changed Arthur and one who could be ready for the trono if Uther decides to hand the reins to him.”
“That’s what I am hoping for, but if this council goes on like this, I doubt if Arthur will ever get married,” Balinor says.
“Arthur isn’t one who relies heavily upon the decision of the council, Balinor; te must orso that in mind. Regardless what the outcome of the council, he will marry her for sure,” Gaius reminds them both, almost raising his voice because the council is getting increasingly noisy.
“Gaius is right, I’m afraid,” Tristan agrees and before Balinor can respond, Uther stands up and asks everyone to hold the words, almost shouting for some peace and quiet in the council. The sudden action from the king stuns a few and shocks the rest. The council becomes quiet and everyone is focused on the king.
“Good … now that we have peace and quiet among the group, let’s get back to the matter at hand,” Uther says and sits. “I understand the concern of few on this marriage. I appreciate it and I value your thoughts. For me, as the king, I put the kingdom first above everything else. But as a father, I must put my son’s best interests ahead of the kingdom. I hope I have clarified this matter clearly. My son is the future king of the realm and his best interest counts. If he prefers a commoner as his queen, as a father I have no problem with that. His life matters to me più than anything else so far and for that alone, I am ready to rewrite the legislation so that his marriage will not be threatened.”
“But, Uther … what about the other kingdoms? What will they say? A commoner for a queen?”
“I don’t care what the others think o say. I have only Arthur’s interests in account and therefore, I will go on as planned,” Uther says determinedly.
“This is outrageous! A disgrace!” one council member says and agreed da a few around him.
“If te feel so, then te can leave the council immediately, Bickove. I won’t have any trouble finding a replacement for that chair,” Uther says nonchalantly. Tristan snickers.
“Uther … I am a noble and I will not accept this marriage,” Bickove argues, standing up. His face is flushing with anger.
“Hold your tongue, Bickove!” Balinor is up on his feet as well. “This is the king, orso in mind.”
“It’s all right, Balinor. Bickove has the right to speak, but he doesn’t have any right to stop this wedding from happening,” Uther informs and urges Balinor to sit down.
Bickove grumbles on.
“Listen, everyone. I believe in equality. If my son prefers a commoner as his wife and later as his queen, I choose to think it’s a wise move. The people of Camelot are rejoicing with this news because it brings them closer to us through this marriage. And it will help us to secure trust among the people. And above all, my son has chosen with his heart. He chose a wife out of Amore and not of power o fame. And this will be an everlasting bond. This is why I am eager to grant his wish. I called for this council to inform te of this news, not to seek counsel on it. And therefore, I will conclude da saying that the marriage of my son, Arthur Pendragon, to Guinevere the blacksmith’s daughter will definitely go on as planned. Those who disagree can feel free to leave their place on the council,” Uther finishes.
The council murmurs with one another. Uther doesn’t want to stay any longer and decides to end the council. He stands up, followed da others in the room and leaves with his guards in tow. The council remains, though those in favour of the wedding leave the room as well. Gaius, Tristan and Balinor are among this group. As they exit, Balinor takes a quick glance at Bickove who seems to be in conversation with his group. He didn’t seem satisfied but he couldn’t do anything as well. The verdict is final and it comes from the king himself. Like it o not, Bickove has to accept the decision.
“Is he plotting something?” Tristan asks, looking at Bickove’s way as well.
“I don’t think so …”
“Better be wary. Just in case.”
“Sure,” Balinor agrees as both knights and Gaius leaves the room.
Arthur is Leggere his mother’s journal when someone knocks on the door of his chamber. He looks up and frowns. He doesn’t like to be disturbed when he is reading, especially when he is Leggere his mother’s journal. These moments mean a lot to him and he likes to value each one he has. The knock comes again.
‘Who could it be? I thought I made it clear not to be disturbed!’ he thinks angrily. “Come in,” he calls in, his voice rough.
The door opens and his uncle, Tristan, walks in.
Arthur straightens up, closes his mother’s journal and gets to his feet. Despite being a rebel in his father’s eye, he still regards his uncle with great respect. He is, after all, the sole remaining member of his mother’s family.
“Uncle,” Arthur greets warmly and waits.
“Arthur,” Tristan responds. He looks around the chamber and finally his eye rests upon his sister’s journal. His lips twist into a smile. He looks up at Arthur.
“Have I disturbed you, Arthur?”
“No, not all, Uncle. I was just Leggere … felt like I wanted to spend some time with Mother.”
“Then I’d better leave te with her,” Tristan turns to leave.
“No, Uncle … I’m good. Please stay …”
Tristan turns back to face his nephew and smiles. “I heard the good news. Congrats. Have I told te I am really proud of what you’ve done?”
“Uncle … I’m quiet puzzled here. What have I done to merit such a compliment?” Arthur knows his uncle never approve his rebellious ways and it’s never easy to merit a compliment from Tristan. But now that he does, he desperately wants to know the reason for getting them.
“Your decision to marry a commoner. Your mother would be very proud of you. I am as well. That is a very bold decision, Arthur, and it merits più than compliment. It deserves a pat on the shoulder. Your father seems to have taken the matter quite proudly, too.”
“Really?”
“Yes, te should have heard what he detto in the council meeting today. He shrugged off all arguments and doubts, opting to put te ahead of all other tasks. He wants te to be happy, Arthur. I hope te understand that,” Tristan says.
“I do, Uncle,” Arthur risposte softly. He avoids looking at Tristan because he understands Tristan is wary of the conflict between both father and son.
“Good. Now … what does she look like?”
“Huh?”
“Your bride. The future Queen of Camelot. I haven’t seen her but I’d like to know how she looks. te wouldn’t mind talking about her, would you?”
“No of course not, Uncle … of course not.” Arthur says in hesitant. “Urmm … what would te like to know?”
“You can start da describing her first. Tell me Arthur, how does she look? I heard Balinor describing her to be very beautiful and elegant. But I’d Amore to hear it from you.” Tristan pulls out the chair and sits down, urging Arthur to do the same.
Arthur follows suit. “She’s a … peasant, uncle. A blacksmith’s daughter. The blacksmith Tom who does the royal armoury sometimes. She’s a seamstress.” Arthur clears his throat. Tristan nods. “She’s … urmm …” Arthur struggles with his words and looks away, avoiding his uncle’s watch.
“Are te all right, Arthur?”
“Yes, why would te ask?”
“Because te don’t seem like te are at all.”
“I’m good … quite good, actually,” Arthur lies and twirls his mother’s ring, which he wears on his ring finger on his right hand.
“Don’t think I was born yesterday, Arthur. I know you, better than te know yourself. te are my sister’s son and te are very much like her when it comes to disclosing your personal feelings for others. Your mother was a shy and naïve woman. She preferred to keep her secrets and feelings inside her, close to her cuore rather than share it with anyone else. Not even with her brother. And te are your mother’s son, Arthur. What I see in you, right now, is exactly what I saw in my sister. Shy and sensitive. te might be the first knight of Camelot. Valorous and gallant when it comes to chivalry, the dashing crowned prince of Camelot and the Ribelle - The Brave heir of the realm. But deep inside, te are still the shy and sensitive son of Ygraine. te may never want anyone to notice that side of yours, Arthur, but I do, because I saw it in my sister. And I understand why te are struggling with your words.”
Arthur smiles and shakes his head. His uncle is right. He is shy to talk about Guinevere. Shy to reveal about her to his uncle. He didn’t know why, but that’s why he’s being hesitant. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”
“Don’t be. te don’t have to talk about her if it makes te uneasy.”
“No. I can’t carry on like this forever, can I?” he sighs. “Well, to start off … she’s beautiful, Uncle. Well, te know I have a splendid taste in women, don’t you?” Arthur says proudly.
“Yes, I am well acquainted with your escapades.”
“Yes. But she is different than the other women I’ve met in my life. She’s simple, humble and yet beautiful in every sense of that word. She has golden skin, beautifully highlighted when she’s outside in the sun … the way the skin glows, ahh … flawless. Her dark curls compliment her heart-shaped face well. She has mandorla shaped eyes, honey brown, which I must say are the most expressive part of her.”
“Really? Why would te say that?”
“Because they make te feel as if she’s talking to te when there are no words coming from her lips. And she does it with her eyes. Yes, Uncle … te can get yourself hypnotized da just looking at her.”
“Is that how she captured your heart?” Tristan laughs. Arthur smiles shyly.
“In a way … yes. Anyway … long bridged nose and lush, full lips finish her face well. She might not have the exquisite oro accessories to adorn herself, but she doesn’t need them. She puts fresh fiori in her hair and when she walks, she practically carries herself into everyone’s cuore with her beautiful smile and those amazing eyes. Her kindness is seen in her ways and her humbleness is identified through her words. I managed to catch her from far and I must say she is elegant, Uncle. She probably doesn’t know that, but she is. What most people have to put on like a suit, she possesses naturally.”
“And what about her height? Is she tall, like te o … like your mother?”
“Oh, how tall was mother?”
“About five feet five, I suppose but not very tall. And she was slender, too. Not skinny but just about the right size. But she looked tiny beside Uther on her wedding day.”
“Ahhh … Guinevere’s the same size too. Perhaps a little shorter. But shapely, I must add, and I think these gowns here with those dastardly looking corsets are going to hurt her waist. Perhaps I will ask her to ignore those and wear what she feels right.”
Tristan smiles. “Caring for your wife already?”
“I just want her to feel comfortable, that’s all,” Arthur says softly.
“Carry on, don’t stop.”
“Hmm … what else? Urm … well, in terms of descrizione I think I managed to cover what’s important. She’s … how would te put it? Not perfect but flawless. She doesn’t need to be made up with cosmetics o accessories to highlight her beauty. It’s there naturally to be seen da all. Like she’s been born with all these qualities … she’s a natural beauty.”
“What about her character?”
“She’s humble, kind and very generous with those around her. But the quality that captured my attention was her bravery, her defiance and her bluntness. She knows how to make herself known with proper timing and character. She inserts herself into conversation with proper assessment and not blindly o without cause. And I like that from her very much. She reminds me of who I am … she challenges me, teases and encourages me … something no one has been able to do. I know I haven’t been the type of prince everyone expects me to be, but ever since our paths crossed I feel different. I haven’t been able to tell what that is, but … she stirs something in me, Uncle.” Arthur looks at his uncle, intently. “You do understand me, don’t te Uncle?”
“I do …”
“And she reminds me so much of Mother, too. My real mother.”
“Why is that?”
“I wasn’t fortunate enough to meet Mother, but from what I read about her, here …” Arthur points to the journal on his table, “when I met Guinevere, I could see that she has some of Mother’s qualities that I admire. She’s funny, caring, open-minded, not easily intimidated and very hard to tackle.”
“Come again?”
“She isn’t easy, Uncle. She doesn’t fall for charms, gifts … anything. She has her own view on people and it requires più than charm to get around her. I understand Father took months to take Mother out for their first dance,” Arthur laughs.
Tristan laughs. “Yes, te should have seen Uther’s face when Ygraine detto no almost three times before she agreed to go out with him, but with condition that they must be home before midnight. He was crestfallen, yet they stayed beyond midnight because da then your mother was deeply in Amore with Uther.”
“That’s very sweet.”
“Yes. And soon it will be your turn. Your Amore for her will have your world changed for the better. te will understand all your mother wrote about Amore in her journal, now that te seem to have found Amore as well.”
Arthur remains silent. This is the toughest part of this conversation. He likes Guinevere, for all the reason he mentioned to his uncle. Without a doubt. But love? Now that is one mysterious word that has been swirling like magic in his mind for days. He wanted Guinevere for the humiliation she caused him, but after that meeting in the market and later stalking her whilst she played with the orphans and the mela, apple picking events she took part in last week, he must admit he admires her. Gone is the hatred, replaced da admiration, awe and respect. He likes her and wants to marry her for good reasons. But love? Could he be in love? He doubts that, yet his uncle is the third person to remind him of that word. She reminds him of his mother and for that reason alone, he wishes no harm on her. But he knows she will hate him for tricking her into this unwanted marriage. He expects repercussions for his action, but he knows he will overcome all that. All he needs is patience and he will win her heart. And Amore will not play any part in that. Nope. He doesn’t need Amore to work that magic! All he needs is patience. Yup, that is all.
“Arthur?”
“Huh, uh … yeah, Uncle … te were saying?”
“Your mother would be very happy if she were here. Her son, her only son is finally marrying someone out of Amore and not out of his duty to the kingdom. Good choice, Arthur. te know how sharp my tongue is … so, I am happy you’ve finally decided to disrobe your tainted personality and become someone the kingdom can be proud of.”
“Thank you, Uncle. I won’t let te down and I wish Mother were here, too.” Arthur reaches out and lifts the journal and brings it close to his heart, clutching it tightly. “I’m going to bring this with me on my wedding day, so that I can feel her presence with me.”
“Good call, lad.” Tristan says and gets up. “You’ve made me very happy today, Arthur and to celebrate this wonderful event, your father and I are going on a special hunting trip. Care to unisciti us?”
“Not today, Uncle. I have plans to get Guinevere a wedding gift.”
“Guinevere, that’s a very beautiful name. Arthur and Guinevere. It seems like you’ve both been destined to be. Have a good day, Arthur …” Tristan leaves and Arthur gets up to bid his uncle goodbye. After Tristan leaves the chamber, Arthur sits down and leans against his chair, resting his head with his mother’s journal resting on his chest. He closes his eyes and thinks about Guinevere.
Gwen doesn’t feel like working on the cloth Keira gave her yesterday. Her mind is still tied to those words her father detto last night and since then, she’s been feeling sick. Her father had left for work and she didn’t even send him to the door, opting to lie on the letto while he left, sighing sadly at the misfortune that had befallen them both. Gwen cried all night, thinking about the upcoming marriage to Arthur, wondering why is she the one chosen and not anyone else, thinking what will happen to her now that she will be a princess? domande ploughed her mind ruthlessly, raking her brains out from her skull. When she does fall asleep, she is plagued da nightmares. And when she wakes up, her father is lying awake as well. She feels bad for him and yet she’s angry for letting himself be fooled. She knows he meant nothing but goodness for her but this is her life. And no one but she alone should get to make the final decisions about it. Gwen shakes her head, gets up from the chair, carelessly tosses the fabric aside and walks to the back of the house. She opens the window and stares outside. It is a beautiful morning and the forest behind her house is inviting. But she doesn’t have the motivation o the passion to do anything at all today. Usually the forest is inviting whenever she’s bored, but today she feels empty. Staring out without a sense of direction, Gwen actually feels like a ghost. A living ghost. She feels her cuore aching again. Tears well up in her eyes, ready to stream downwards, and she sniffs.
‘Very soon, the entire village will know. And how will I confront them?’ she thinks sadly, A single tear rolls down. She thumbs it off. ‘What will I tell them?’
She closes the window and walks back inside, sitting down on the bench and places her hands on the tavolo and then her head upon her hands. She thinks about Arthur. Why couldn’t he look for someone else? Why did he choose her? What did he see in her that he went to such a despicable act to claim her? A wager! Gwen sniffs again. ‘I’m a person, Arthur …not an animal!’ she feels hurt inside. ‘If only you’d been nicer to me … I would have … I would have …’ she lifts her head and buries her face in her hands.
“NO!!!!!” she shouts angrily. Removing he hands from her face, she picks the cup on the tavolo and throws it at the door. The cup clangs against the door and falls. “I have pride, too!! I have dignity, too!! Damn you, Arthur!!! te are such a coward! I hate you!!! I hate you!!!” she cries loudly.
Gwen pounds the tavolo and allows più tears to flow down her cheeks. She can’t understand why is she having mixed feelings about this proposal. When she heard about Arthur’s marriage, she’d been upset and feigned her happiness. But now that she’s learned the truth about the marriage, she’s angry. But she knows most of her unhappiness stems from the manner the proposal was made and not da the man who proposed the marriage. She is unhappy da the cowardliness of the proposal and would have appreciated if Arthur had been man enough to just approach her directly. But if he had, would she have dato him a chance? Would he have been convincing enough for her to consider the proposal? “Why can’t te be like everyone else, Arthur!!! Why are te disturbing my life? Why did te arrive in my life? Why Arthur? Why?” she asks herself loudly. ‘I would have considered … if only te …’ her thoughts were abruptly interrupted da the sudden knock on the door.
Gwen’s crying stops. She stares at the door.
The knock comes again, hastily.
“Yes?” she manages to say after a while, choking back her tears.
“Gwen … open up!” it was Morgana.
Wiping her tears, Gwen picks herself up and rushes to the door. She needs a shoulder to lean on and cry and couldn’t have asked for a better person than Sir Balinor’s daughter. She reaches the door, unlatches it and pulls it open.
Morgana looks worried standing outside. “Gwen? Are te ….” She didn’t get to finish the sentence as Gwen embraces her and cries.
“Gwen?” Morgana rakes Gwen’s dark hair and pats her shoulder. “Are te all right? Gwen?”
“I am …. Am not … I don’t know … I just …” Gwen sobs in between her words.
“It’s all right, shhh …. It’s all right. I know what happened … come, let’s go inside.” Morgana leads Gwen inside and closes the door.
Gwaine hums a tune he knows and walks carefreely down the path, leading towards Gwen’s house. In his hands, he has a huge parcel, wrapped in a nice piece of cloth and tied with a white ribbon. It was a gift for Tom, Gwen’s father. Gwen’s gift is safely in his pocket. He is excited about today. He will tell her of his feelings and wait for her response. And he hopes she gives him hope. Something in his cuore tells him he might be in for some surprises today. And he likes surprises. Humming più freely, he waves at the villagers he passes da and walks down the path, kicking off pebbles as he goes.
Gwaine reaches Gwen’s house after approximately twenty minuti of walking and stops a yard from her place. He collects his thoughts, checks his breath and adjusts his tunic. Sighing and raking through his hair, he nears her home. Sighing another time, he lifts his hand to knock the door when it opens up. Gwaine is shocked.
“Hello?” Morgana greets him da the door.
“Hello?” Gwaine steps back and rechecks the house he has just stepped in. It is Gwen’s place and how come someone else is stepping out from here. ‘Have I come to a wrong home?’ he asks himself.
“Can I help you?” Morgana asks him.
Gwaine looks back at Morgana and smiles. “Is this the home of Tom, the blacksmith?”
“Yes. And whom are te looking for, exactly?” Morgana asks.
“Gwen.”
“Oh … sorry. She is inside. But … who are you? If te don’t mind me asking,” she asks him again.
“Gwaine. Is Gwen occupied?”
“No, she isn’t. Just hold on a minute. I’ll let her know you’re here,” Morgana says and steps back inside. Gwaine hears her calling Gwen and after a minuto o so, she reappears along side with Gwen. Gwaine smiles at the sight of the familiar face.
“Gwaine,” Gwen say, smiling.
“Gwen,” Gwaine greets her.
“I’ll leave te alone. Goodbye, Gwen.” Morgana bids goodbye and steps out. Gwaine steps aside and bows in acknowledgement.
Morgana accepts his nod and walks towards where her horse is tied. Gwaine hands the parcel in his hand to Gwen and hurries towards Morgana, helps her mount the horse. “Thank te …” she thanks him.
“Gwaine.”
“Thank you, Gwaine.” Morgana smiles and with a quick nod at Gwen, she gallops away.
Gwaine smiles and turns around, looking at Gwen. “Who was that?” he asks, pointing at the disappearing Morgana.
“That is Morgana. Sir Balinor’s daughter.”
“Sir Balinor? The knight of the round table? That’s Morgana?” Gwaine seems surprised. “My … she’s all grown up.”
“And beautiful as well,” Gwen chips in.
Gwaine smiles and nears Gwen. “Where’s Tom?”
“In his workshop, as usual. Come in, Gwaine.” Gwen invites her friend and steps inside. Gwaine follows her in and closes the door behind him.
“Why is she here?”
“To see me. She had something important to discuss with me, so … she came around,” Gwen answers. “Would te like a drink, Gwaine?” she asks immediately, avoiding Gwaine from probing further. She doesn’t want Gwaine to suspect anything yet. Not now. She will tell him later, when she is più at ease with the subject herself. She feels slightly better now after the cuore to cuore conversation she had with Morgana. And she also feels better knowing Merlin isn’t part of the plan Arthur hatched to trick her into this marriage. But to reveal all that to Gwaine so early isn’t the best thing at the moment. She will wait.
“No, thank you, Gwen. I came to see Tom and you. Please give him that.” He points at the parcel Gwen is holding and purses his lips.
“Thank you, Gwaine. te shouldn’t have actually.”
“It’s nothing, Gwen. So … what’s your plan this afternoon?” Gwaine asks, looking around nervously.
“Nothing, why?”
“Hmm … care to go for a walk?”
‘Walk!’ Gwen’s cuore pounds. “Why?”
“Nothing, really … just that it’s a bright fine giorno for a walk. Care to unisciti me?”
“Hmm … not really, Gwaine. I don’t feel …”
“Aw, come on, Gwen!! Don’t be such a spoilsport. It’s just a walk. And I have something very important to tell te as well.”
“You can tell me here.” Gwen fiddles with the parcel’s edges.
“No, I can’t … it’s very complicated and very … te know, very … very …”
“Gwaine, whatever it is … te can tell me here. I really would Amore to hear what te have to tell me but let’s not go outside please,” Gwen reasons with him. She hates lying to him but she can’t reveal her misery to him yet.
Gwaine sighs and agrees to oblige Gwen’s wishes. “Fine.” He fishes out the bracelet and nears Gwen. He reaches out and takes her hand, opens her palm and drops the bracelet on her palm. “This is for you.”
Gwen looks at the bracelet and then at Gwaine, her eyes widening in shock. “Gwaine … this is …”
“It’s for you.”
“I can’t accept this, Gwaine. It’s very expensive.”
“It is for you, Gwen, please … accept it.” Gwaine steps back and raises his hand, refusing to accept the bracelet again. “Please …”
“Gwaine … I just don’t know what to say. This is … it’s beautiful, but why give me such an expensive gift?”
“Can’t I do that for you?” he asks.
“Gwaine, this is very expensive. I just want to know what I did to deserve such a gift, that is all.”
“Because you’re worth it.”
“Gwaine!”
“Fine, fine … look Gwen. Before I tell te this, I want te to promise me that te will not think badly of me. Will te give me that?”
“Sure … now tell me.”
Gwaine clears his throat and looks away. This is going to be harder than he thinks. How should he start? How will he form his words? He sighs and coughs again.
“Are te all right, Gwaine?”
“Hmm … uh, yes. Yes, I am all right. Uh … Gwen, I need to tell te that … hmm, te know me, don’t you? I mean we have been Friends all our life and te understand me… te know, I have problems with women …”
“Are te in love, Gwaine?” Gwen is blunt and it petrifies Gwaine.
“That was … very fast, Gwen.”
“From the way te seem uneasy and struggling for words, I can sense te have something very delicate to discuss and what other issue than this could have disturbed you? It is a wild guess actually, so … are you?”
“Hmm, yes.”
“Really, Gwaine? With whom? Do I know her? Is she from here? Is she pretty? Oh Gwaine, hurry up and tell me … I am intrigued.”
“You know her and yes, she is from here … very near here to be honest.”
Gwen looks surprised. “Around here?”
Gwaine nears Gwen, takes her hand and clasps it firmly in his. He looks into her eyes and smiles. “It’s you, Gwen. I Amore te … and I wish to marry you,” he finishes.
