Last week Morgawse and Morgan arrived at the court of Lothian…
The king nodded curtly and rising, led the way into a small anteroom. “Well, my lady, you may speak,” he said, lighting a couple of torches which illuminated some low chairs. “Sit.”
Morgawse swallowed, “Sire, you might think me rude, but I see no other way to put this than to be blunt. When you came to visit us last summer, Prince Lot and I fell for each other. I assume this much is known to you.”
The king nodded slyly, “Yes, indeed, it was quite obvious.”
Morgawse felt herself turning annoyingly red. “Anyway,” she continued, “I still hold your son in remembrance. King Uther means to marry me and Elaine for political advantage when he marries Mother, which he won’t delay in. So, Your Majesty, would you welcome an alliance with the south?” She held her chin up and looked Cynfarch right in the eyes.
The king’s eyebrows rose, “Well, Morgawse, you are a brave and bold woman.”
His expression was ambiguous. “My lord,” she returned, “none of my family have been asked what we want; we are just more pawns to Uther, with no wishes of our own. I see no reason why I can’t fight for the best life I can get under the circumstances – if you are agreeable, of course.”
“Morgawse, you have my respect,” he assured her. “Not many girls would have the grit to do what you have done. As to my son’s marriage, I was beginning to think of it. And you are right, it would be a useful alliance. I give my consent, on the condition my son agrees. Since you have taken your wishes into account, where others have not, I assume you would want to consult his own.”
A sigh escaped from Morgawse. Half the task was complete. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty. Thank you.”
King Cynfarch gave a rare smile. “You are welcome, Morgawse. Now come and rest. Speak to my son. How long do you think your sister will be asleep for?”
She followed him back to the hall. “I don’t know exactly. A few hours, at least. One thing is certain, she won’t wake up till she is ready, and nobody will be able to wake her.”
Now Morgawse could pour all of her attention onto Prince Lot, as she had been too afraid to do before. As she approached the table, he stood up and pulled her chair out for her, holding her gaze, intensely curious. She let herself drink him in. He was more handsome than she remembered.
A pulse fluttered in her throat. Time for the second part of her quest.