Page 49 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘I won’t if you won’t,’ Bridget said, as she watched him approach. Gwen hastened to the wall, to stand by Sidney and watch.

At first it seemed like Arthur might actually hold his own, but this illusion was shattered as soon as he attempted to land a hit; in a movement so quick and sudden thatGwen felt she had somehow missed it, Bridget had disarmed him and knocked him flat on his back, with none of the gentleness she had shown Gwen.

‘Would you like to go again?’ Bridget asked.

‘I want to schedule an exorcism,’ Arthur said bitterly, as he scrambled to his feet. ‘You’re clearly possessed by the spirit of a – a massive bloke with a sword.’

‘I just practise,’ Bridget said, shrugging, clearly enjoying herself. ‘Alot.’

‘Well, in any case, it’s not fair,’ said Arthur imperiously. ‘I have to hold back, because you’re a woman.’

‘A terrible shame. Perhaps his highness would be a more worthy opponent,’ Bridget said, gesturing with her chin. Gwen turned and saw Gabriel standing in the opposite doorway with a book in his hand, watching them, looking stricken. Bridget dropped into a quick bow, and Gabriel waved the book at her distractedly, indicating that she should be at ease.

Gwen felt bile rise in her throat at the sight of him, and he looked just as horrified as she felt. She had managed to forget about their conversation for an entire, glorious hour, but the look on his face was bringing it all back with painful urgency.

‘What do you say?’ Sidney said, pushing off from the wall to stand up straight. ‘Shall I fetch you a sword, your highness?’

Gwen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He wasneverthis polite to her.

‘No,’ Gabriel said, glancing over his shoulder. ‘I was just—’

‘Your highness,’ said Sir Dhawan, somehow managing to bow as he walked. ‘I’m delighted to see you, it’s been weeks. We’ll just …’ He clicked his fingers, and a boy came running with a sword.

‘Right,’ Gabriel said, automatically taking the sword out of politeness and then staring at it as if he had no idea what it could possibly be for.

‘Your father told me just yesterday that he would encourage you to return to practising daily – we have new-made armour too, if you’d care to give it a try. Gold-plated, just as Lord Stafford requested.’

‘Ah – yes,’ Gabriel said, looking trapped.

‘Would you like to train with me, your highness? Or … I can fetch a squire—’

‘It’s all right,’ Sidney said, smiling affably. ‘He’ll fight Arthur.’

Arthur was looking at Sidney with a murderous expression, but Sidney seemed entirely nonplussed.

‘Splendid!’ said Sir Dhawan. ‘Very well, your highness. Show him how we fight at Camelot.’

Gabriel threw one more desperate glance back at the keep, like he was hoping somebody would appear and call him away to attend to urgent business, but then sighed and lifted his sword.

Arthur was feeling quite confused about the situation he found himself in. The sight of Gabriel wielding a sword certainly wasn’t helping matters.

A need to be near-constantly entertained was, he believed, one of his few personal failings; up until very recently, the most entertaining thing about Gabriel had been that he was an oddly quiet and reluctant royal.

Now he was a person who played nursemaid to crows, gripped his sword like an expert, and kissed people in the middle of the night before promptly running away. Watching him raise a sword now with a form that must have been ingrained through years of practice, he was imagining the lean muscle that must be hidden somewhere beneath Gabriel’s clothes.

It was all a bit distracting.

‘You’re meant to hit him with it,’ Sidney called.

‘Yes, thanks, Sid,’ Arthur said. To his right, Gwen and Bridget were sparring again; the sound of Bridget urging her on, giving little corrections and light ribbings that seemed to Arthur to beveryflirtatious, just made the silence between him and Gabriel all the more pronounced.

Arthur raised his sword. His bad wrist buckled slightly; he tried to compensate by tightening his grip.

‘All right then,’ he said. ‘Shall we—’

Gabriel had already advanced, his every movement by the book; Arthur managed to parry, but it was clumsy, and a few seconds later Gabriel had tapped his swordpoint lightly against Arthur’s shoulder.

‘Oh.’