Page 78 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘God,’ Gwen said again, before finally pushing the letters away, which was very difficult to do. They weren’t particularly well written – there was quite a lot of repetition, and Lancelot didn’t seem to have much of a poetic imagination – but they were captivating nonetheless, and actually quite sweet in their sincerity. ‘He’s responding to whatever Arthur wrote to him, so it looks … you know. Reciprocal. Andpublic, too, if they danced all night at this feast. The other half must be out there somewhere, unless somebody had them destroyed. In fact, they must have had to destroy alot, if they were courting in public for everyone to see.’

‘Nobody’s who I thought they were,’ Gabriel said brokenly, and Gwen sighed, patting him uselessly on the arm as he slumped forward with his head in his hands.

‘I mean,’ she said tentatively, ‘it’s sort of … good news, isn’t it? Here you are, trying to keep up with the great King Arthur, heir to a country where at least half the population thinks he’s going to make a dramatic reappearance, and it turns out we’ve been … well, we’ve been accidentally living up to some of his ideals all along.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Gabriel said, slightly muffled. ‘Because obviously we can’treleasethem.’

‘What? Why not?’

‘Because it’d be chaos!’ Gabriel said, as if this should have been obvious. ‘Everybody would assume they were fake, for one thing. They’d certainly suspect an agenda, if we ever – but we won’t. And we can’t. For another – well, it’s hardly going to help heal this rift between Catholics and cultists, is it?’

‘You don’t know that,’ Gwen countered. ‘You don’t know for sure how people might react. Catholics love Arthur, even if they don’t worship him. Shouldn’t we just … tell the truth? And let everybody make up their own minds?’

Gabriel made a noise of disbelief and raised his head. ‘I don’t think so. I wish … I wish I’d never seen them.’

‘Why?’ Gwen said, clutching the letters close to her chest as if he might be about to snatch them from her and chuck them into the fire.

‘Because …’ Gabriel cast about, looking hopeless. ‘Everything just got far more complicated, and it’s already complicated enough. Knowing about them means … having to make a decision.’

Gwen bit her lip, hard, to hold back from saying something slightly too unkind for his delicate state.

‘What did Arthur say, when he gave them to you?’ she said instead, hoping that perhaps he might have given one of his infamous lectures on bravery.

‘He just sort of threw them at me,’ Gabriel said, and Gwen rolled her eyes.

‘It’s going well, then.’

‘There is noit,’ Gabriel said. ‘As you well know. You were just being fitted for your wedding gown, for God’s sake.’

‘Yes, and an hour before that I was kissing Bridget in the armoury,’ Gwen said, causing Gabriel to choke on what Gwen could only assume was his own saliva.

She’d had to make all manner of excuses to get away from her mother, and Agnes had been dragged in to help with the complicated logistics, but it had been worth it for ten glorious minutes pushed up against a wall next to one of Gabriel’s many suits of armour, every inch of Bridget’s body pressed into hers – until somebody had walked past the doorway, and she had been forced to wrench herself away and run from the room without even saying goodbye.

‘You’rekissingnow? When did that happen?’

‘Um. After that security breach, and then again on my birthday,’ said Gwen. ‘It happened. It … continues to happen.’

‘Well, I suppose … I’m happy for you.’

Gwen snorted. ‘Thanks.I’dbe a lot happier if I didn’t have to sneak around. And I never would have thought it possible, but Gabe … these letters could changeeverything. Not just for us, but for a lot of people. Have you thought of that?’

Gabriel was quiet for a while, apparently trying to process this, and then he sighed. ‘I found some poetry tucked away in the library once. Written by Mordred.’

‘Mordred?He wrotepoetry?’ Gwen said, delighted and horrified in equal measure.

‘Yes. It was awful, all about how misunderstood he was and how terrible his father was and … anyway. It was sostrange. I’ve seen so many things written about him, by him, but all of it so formal – even his letters.’ He jerked his head towards the ones grasped in Gwen’s hand. ‘Anyway. They don’t seem like real people, do they? Any of them. And even knowing Father as well as we do, he’s never just our father. Not entirely. He’s … untouchable. Different. He can never actually take off the crown, even when he does. But this God-awful poetry Mordred wrote, it was so very … human.’

‘Theywerereal people,’ Gwen said. ‘And Father is a real person. And you can still be a real person, Gabe. You can be king and still be you. It doesn’t have to be a … well, a crown you can’t take off.’

‘I wish that were true,’ Gabriel said sadly. Gwen was suddenly exhausted by everything, head heavy and aching for her bed, thinking that they could untangle this mess in the morning – but before she could say anything, Gabriel’s head snapped up. ‘Do you hear that?’

‘Hear what?’ she said, but he shushed her; when she tilted her head and strained to listen, shecouldhear something. Strange, muffled moans coming from the corridor just outside.

‘I’ll call the guard,’ Gabriel said immediately, reaching for his dagger, but Gwen held up a hand.

‘No, it’s not … Gabe, I think that’sArthur.’

‘Damn it,’ someone – Sidney – swore, accompanied by the sound of something falling to the floor. Agnes was up and out of her chair, squinting sleepily towards the sound.