Page 75 of The Prophecy of the Blood Born Earl

“Aye,” Arthur nodded solemnly. There was an odd expression on his face, that reflected the feeling the Cleo had in her stomach. There was something here much bigger than either of them understood going on and they were helpless to resist its pull. Cleo reached out and opened the wooden box to find a roll of parchment within. Lifting it out of the box, she unfurled the bundle to reveal her father’s handwriting within.

My Dearest Daughter,

Cleo, if you are reading this then by now you know everything. You have discovered my secret, but what you do not yet know is that it is your secret as well, yours and Arthur MacDonald’s. In my search for the truth about King Arthur, I came across an ancient curse, or blessing depending on how you look at it, cast by Queen Guinevere upon King Arthur’s death.

Unable to bear the pain of losing her love, and for everything that had been done to bring them to such disastrous ends, she invoked the name of the most ancient of the Celtic gods. Using the oldest of what some would call magic, I choose to call it faith, she bound her and Arthur’s souls together for all eternity. Binding their souls to the earth until one day Arthur would return and find his truest of loves.

Cleo, you and Arthur are those souls, the bound souls of King Arthur and his beloved queen. For hundreds of years, your souls have been searching for one another, until the day when you would both find each other. When their souls found each other once more, if they chose love over all else that stood in their way, then their souls would be free, finding redemption at last. If they chose anything less than the truest of loves, they would be cursed to suffer for all eternity.

You see my dear, even faith, like magic, has a price that must be paid. I have done my best to protect you from this, to protect you both from your destiny, to allow you to choose love in whatever form it may have come to you without the influence of the curse, but when I met Arthur, I knew it was he that the prophecy spoke of. He was your soul mate as the Greek Plato explained it.

I have dedicated my life to seeing that you were both protected, and that when you came of an age, that you would be ready to find one another. You, Cleo, are the fair maiden of the jewel, Guinevere’s jewels, and Arthur is your noble knight, your King Arthur. I pray that you both have had the courage to seek true love whether it came in each other or elsewhere, but if it is indeed with each other, cherish one another, keep each other safe, nurture your souls in one another’s love. I was wrong about Guinevere’s jewel needing to be put in a museum, it is yours, it always has been and belongs with you and your blood long after you are gone, for in it lies the truest of blessings. In it lies the light of true love.

With all of my love,

Your father, Henry

Cleo stared down at the paper in front of her and knew in her heart that every word of it was true. She turned her face up to Arthur and knew that he felt it too. “I love you with all of my heart, mind, and soul, Arthur MacDonald, my noble knight, and I always will, for all of eternity.”

Arthur took her hand in his, lifting the jeweled pin from the desktop where they had laid it earlier in the night. “And I love ye, Cleo Wallace, my fair maiden o’ the jewel, with all o’ my heart, mind, and soul, for all eternity,” he smiled down at her with a mischievous light in his eyes, “blessed curse or nae.” Melting into each other’s arms, Arthur claimed her lips with his own as their souls reached out to embrace each other once more.

The End?