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Lancelet shook her head.

“You’ve never been afraid of a woman before. You’ve never hesitated to approach one before,” I reminded her. “Why, you might have had any girl you chose back in Camelot.” At least, any girl of a certain persuasion.

“This is different. She’s so different. She’s... practically celestial.”

“No,” I said bluntly. “She’s not. She’s very human and all alone. She has no one. No one but you and that fucking bird.”

Lancelet snickered.

“A fucking amazing bird,” I conceded, glancing around just in case the owl was listening to us from the trees. I wouldn’t have put it past it. “But still, just a bird, Lancelet. Guinevere has no family. Not really. At least, not any that seem to particularly care for her. And now she’s given up the temple, too.”

“I still can’t believe she did that,” Lancelet muttered, staring into the fire.

“She could have been one of the most powerful women in the land,” I acknowledged. “But she gave that up. And with it, she gave up the rules. She’s free.” I glanced at Guinevere’s tent. “Think of what she went through tonight. I know if that had happened to me, I might want arms around me. Even if they were simply the arms of a friend.”

Lancelet’s eyes met mine across the fire. “I can do that. I think I can.”

“Why not start there?” I said gently. “Ask if she wants company. Simply be with her.”

“Fucking hell.” Lancelet shook her head. “Pass me that flask.”

I did as she asked and watched as she took a swig. “What?”

“I never thought I’d be taking advice on women from you, Morgan,” she said, smirking in that cocky way I loved about her.

I laughed. “Neither did I. But if you take it, I’ll never give you any again. I promise.”

I thought of something and, rising to my feet, went over to my saddlebag again and fished around.

“Here,” I said, passing her a small wad of green leaves.

“Mint.” Lancelet grinned. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Whisky might not be the best thing to smell of.” Especially considering what Guinevere had been through.

Lancelet was already chewing and standing. “Well, if I’m sobbing on my horse tomorrow, you’ll know why.”

“You’d never do that,” I said immediately. “You’d hide it like the ridiculous stoic you’ve become. But I’m here, Lancelet. No matter what happens. You can talk to me about anything. You know I’ll be here.”

She nodded seriously. “I know.”

I stood up. “Get over here, woman.”

She grinned, then did as I’d demanded.

And standing by the fire, with the fresh scents of whisky, blood, and mint around us, I embraced my best friend.

CHAPTER 21 - MORGAN

We left the coastal road the next day, turning inland to the west. As the sound of the sea gradually faded behind us, the landscape transformed. Rolling hills and sporadic clusters of small trees dotted the scenery.

The soil beneath our horses’ hooves changed from a sandy soil to a rockier mixture with patches of hardy grass.

As we moved along the road, abandoned farmsteads stood silent, their once-thriving fields now becoming overgrown with vegetation.

Had the people who lived in them fled before they could be taken? Or had the families who had once lived in these places already been swept away by my father and his cruel powers?

With each league we traveled, the air carried an increasing chill, reminding us of the colder realms that awaited us to the northwest. Far off in the distance lay the rugged peaks and mountain passes we would need to traverse before arriving at the Black Mountain.