Page 59 of The Sword & the Stone

The further I walked, the more modest the homes were. Just charming cottages with sprawling gardens settled by sparkling streams and ponds that backed up to the wood. Most of the fae, aside from royalty, lived simpler than wealthy humans did. With such long lifespans, we needed less material possessions to fulfill us than mortals.

My family was one of the oldest bloodlines in the Seelie Court, my late father having also served her majesty as a knightfor centuries. I’d lived here all my life, only leaving when I made the decision to join the Seelie knights.

I paused at the edge of the barrier to my family’s home, suddenly uncertain.Would she recognize me after all these years? Would she be proud of the knight I’d become or disappointed that I had been away for so long?

And my brothers…Were they angry at me too for abandoning them in the name of some prophecy?

I took a moment to breathe and stepped through the shimmering boundary, feeling the familiar tingle of my family's magic wash over me. The door swung open for me without having to knock; the house recognized me instantly and allowed me to enter.

Plush velvet sofas surrounded a crackling hearth, its mantle adorned with intricate carvings my father and I had done when I was young. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with my mother’s favorite romance stories. My father’s extra set of armor was hung on a hook next to the far door, and my chest gave a twinge.

"Mother?" I called out, my voice echoing through the seemingly empty house. An eerie silence greeted me, broken only by the soft whisper of the wind through the open windows. Unease prickled at the back of my neck as I ventured further inside, my hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of my sword.

Before I could draw my blade, a sudden weight slammed into me from behind, sending me sprawling to the ground. I twisted, ready to defend myself, only to find myself pinned beneath two grinning faces I'd know anywhere.

"Eat dirt, fucker!" Roark crowed, his dark red hair falling into his eyes as he beamed down at me. "You're getting slow in your old age, brother."

"Welcome home." Elyan laughed next to him, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "We thought we'd give you a proper greeting."

I couldn't help but laugh as we tussled on the floor like we did when we were children, all elbows and knees. For a moment, the centuries melted away, and we were just three brothers again, years dissolving away.

"Alright, alright, let me up, you idiots." I chuckled, shoving them off me and climbing to my feet, then dusted off my tunic. "Is this how you welcome a decorated knight of Camelot?"

Roark snorted, slinging an arm around my shoulders. He was a lot larger than I remembered. A grown male now, in his prime. "Don’t make me vomit, Gal."

Elyan laughed, eyes danced with amusement. "It's our sworn duty to keep you humble,Sir Galahad."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words died on my tongue as a figure appeared in the doorway. Time seemed to slow as I took in the sight of my mother, as radiant and beautiful as the day I left. Her strawberry hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, and her grass-green eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"Galahad," she whispered, her voice trembling. "My beautiful boy, you've come home!"

“Mother," I choked out, my voice cracking as she enveloped me in a fierce embrace. Her familiar scent of cinnamon and cloves surrounded me, and I felt the weight of the centuries melt away as I clung to her, tears streaming down my face. I was suddenly glad I hadn’t brought Gawain with me. He’d never let me hear the end of it.

"Too long, Gal," she murmured, her hands cupping my face as she pulled back to look at me. Her eyes shone with such pure love and pride, and I felt a wave of emotion wash over me. "I’ve missed you so much."

For a second, I almost felt guilty. When I was a boy, my father had been gone more often than he was home. It was in the time of the court wars, and he was a commander. I dreamed of rising off with him to fight, but he was killed before I could ever make it a reality. Here I was now, abandoning my mother all over again.

"I've missed you too," I whispered, leaning into her touch. "More than you can possibly imagine. It feels good to be back in Avalon."

Finally, she pulled away, wiping the tears from her eyes with a watery smile. "Enough of that,” she said with a laugh, wiping away her own tears. “Come, sit with me. I want to hear everything about your adventures."

“I can’t stay long,” I said, following her into the sitting room. “I’m needed back at the castle for the feasts.”

My mother's face fell for a moment, but she quickly masked it with a warm smile. "Of course. The city is buzzing with rumors, you know." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Sometimes I forgot how young my mother still was. Centuries older than me, she still looked no older than thirty in human years. “You really did find the heir, didn’t you?”

“I did. And unfortunately, I might be in love with her,” I said, running my hand over my face.

There, I’d said it. The thing that had been nagging at me since the moment I met the feisty queen. If I couldn’t admit it toheryet, I could damn sure say it aloud at least.

My mother raised her eyebrows in surprise and a grin spread across her face. "You'rein love?" She leaned forward, eager for details. "Tell me about this woman who’s captured your heart. I never thought I’d see the day."

My brothers snorted at the same time, and I shot them a glare. “She’s the most beautiful female I think I’ve ever seen. Powerful without realizing it, and she’s got a mouth on her.” Elyan opened his mouth, but I silenced him with a look. Hesnapped it closed. “She could probably kick your arse up and down the city streets if she wanted to, Elyan.”

"Well then, she sounds amazing," my mother said, shaking her head at my brothers. "But does she feel the same way about you?"

I hesitated. "I don't know. There are so many complications. It's hard to know where we stand. I’m not the only knight that feels this way. Percy is practically in love, and Tristan too. Gawain is smitten, but that’s not a surprise, and Lancelot tries to pretend he feels nothing, but I know him better than he realizes.”

Roark plopped down beside me, jostling me with his elbow. "You always did overthink things. Why not just tell her how you feel and see what happens? Worst case, she lets you down gently and you move on."

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