Page 88 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘Exactly,’ said Arthur, nodding. ‘Ifeelfine. Dare I say – I think Iamfine.’

‘What?’ Sidney said, looking genuinely baffled. ‘That can’t be right.’

‘Watch this,’ Arthur said. ‘I’m going to do a trick.’ He pushed off the covers, then pulled himself upright and swung himself around so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘Jesus,’ Sidney said, impressed. ‘What else can you do?’

‘Well, I don’t know,’ Arthur said, as they both stared down at his legs. They looked thinner and ropier than usual, less sturdy, and he wasn’t entirely sure they’d hold his weight. He tried anyway, and found them to be strangely shaky and useless underneath him; Sidney caught him before he made a mess of his kneecaps.

‘Good trick though,’ Sidney said, trying to get him back into bed; Arthur was having none of it.

‘The only way to get better at walking is to walk,’ he said, throwing an arm around Sidney’s shoulders and leaning heavily on him as his thighs started to shake. ‘So let’s walk.’

They completed a few very wobbly laps around their chambers before Sidney insisted on depositing Arthur in a chair and calling for breakfast; the novelty of it all, of being able to sit opposite Sidney at the table and spill runny egg all down the front of himself and nibble at pieces of bread and laugh almost as if it were any other day, made Arthur feel giddy.

‘We should call for Gwen. Show her what I can do. She’llprobably weep with joy, poor lamb. Actually – whereisGwen? I haven’t seen her or … well, nobody’s visited me for days.’

‘Yeah,’ Sidney said, wiping crumbs from his mouth and leaning back in his chair. ‘Funny thing, that. Tried to go and see Aggie yesterday afternoon when you were conked out and the bloody guard wouldn’t let me into the royal wing.’

‘Odd,’ said Arthur. ‘Might be a security thing.’ He dropped his knife, and when Sidney tried to grab it for him, he held up a hand to stop him and insisted on doing it himself. As he leaned down, he noticed a small brown package on the floor, as if it had been dropped and forgotten. ‘What’s this?’

‘Dunno,’ Sidney said, following Arthur’s nod and then leaning over to pick it up. He unwrapped the paper and extracted a long pendant. They both watched the cut black stone rotate slowly between them at the end of its chain. ‘I’ve seen these before, they’re meant to be … I dunno. Charms. Spells. They keep you safe.’

‘Well. Excellent. I suppose somebody brought it as a gift,’ Arthur said cheerfully, taking it from Sidney and looping it over his head. ‘I like it. It’s hard and black, like my heart.’

‘Your heart is soft and yellow,’ said Sidney. ‘Like marzipan.’

‘I have the heart of a lion. And the legs of a horse. I’m going back to bed, but tomorrow let’s show everyone what these shapely pegs can do.’

He felt even better the next morning; shattered, with aching limbs as if he’d run a marathon rather than taken a hundred steps around the same fifteen-foot radius, but it was such a novelty to feel tired from physical exertion thathe was in an extremely good mood. Not even the sight of his closely cropped hair in the mirror, or the fact that he could now barely bend his wrist, was enough to put a damper on the pure joy of being somewhere other than his bed. He had never felt so emotional about a chair before.

It was slow going, the business of getting back on his feet, but he was powered by determination and the strange, insistent twist of anxiety he felt in his gut every time Sidney attempted to glean any news from the royal wing, and heard nothing.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Arthur demanded, when Sidney returned once again without news.

‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Sidney said, obviously very worried. ‘Focus on getting all your parts in working order and then we’ll sort it out.’

He reported back to Arthur that the castle was absolutely packed with people; hundreds were turned away every evening for dinner in the Great Hall, and the crowds attending the tournament as they approached the finale were enormous.

‘And I saw your father,’ Sidney said hesitantly, as they sat down to eat dinner on the day Arthur managed to walk the length of the corridor outside his room mostly unaided.

Arthur tried not to wince, but realised too late he’d done it anyway. ‘Joy of joys. Did he offer any explanation as to why he hasn’t been up here yet? A note expressing his concern, perhaps?’

‘Er …’ said Sidney. ‘No. He pretended he hadn’t seen me, actually.’

‘Of course he did,’ Arthur said, sighing. It was aparticularly frustrating conundrum; he had absolutely no desire to see his father, but his imagined, shadowy progress around the castle beneath Arthur’s feet was almost as intrusive as if he were standing in the room. ‘And the others?’

‘Haven’t had a reply to those notes yet,’ Sidney said, through a mouthful of bread. Increasingly annoyed by the lack of visitors, Arthur had asked him to send messages to Gwen and Gabriel, informing them that he was out of bed, and had expected them to appear immediately to rejoice in the miracle; in a moment of madness he’d also asked Sidney to deliver one to Bridget. That had been yesterday morning; they had all gone unanswered.

‘It’s starting to feel somewhat personal.’

‘Nah,’ said Sidney, impressively unconvincing. ‘They’re probably just busy. With the tournament.’

‘Let’s pay them a visit, shall we?’ Arthur said suddenly, trying to get up and managing more of an undignified stumble, during which he had to grab on to the table for support.

‘What, now?’

‘Yes,’ Arthur said insistently. ‘Now.’