Page 34 of To Charm a Dark Prince

TEN

“You may wish to go rescue our visitor.”

Mordred looked up at Galahad as he walked into the room before arching an eyebrow at the tall knight. He hadn’t slept—not that his inability to rest was all that shocking or unusual—and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the scolding Knight in Gold.

But a mention of rescue was not what he was expecting. “Oh?” He sat back from the table. He was poring over notes and books to see if he could discern the source of Gwendolyn’s power. But there was little to base his search upon.

“She is trapped in the kitchens with Maewenn.” Galahad smiled thinly, revealing his game. It was very intentional on his part, it seemed.

Mordred shook his head. “You are a right bastard.”

“She complained of being hungry. What else was I meant to do?” But his expression belied the knight’s mischief.

“You could have summoned a servant to fetch food from the kitchens, not send Gwendolyn into the lion’s den. No, more specifically, to makemego rescue her from said lion’s den.” He sighed and pushed up from the table. There was no point in prolonging the inevitable. He could send guards to fetch Gwendolyn from the kitchens, but Maewenn would likely just scream at them and chase them away.

No, Mordred would have to go get the young elemental himself. Which was entirely Galahad’s goal. “If you are trying to counsel me to keep my distance from the young woman, this is not helping.”

“Hm. I suppose not. But it is nice to see you outside your chambers. This is the most life I have seen from you in years.” Galahad lifted a shoulder in an idle shrug. “And I fear your entanglement with her is inevitable at this point. Besides, Maewenn has been asking to speak with you for months, yet you avoid her.”

“And you know why I avoid her.”

“I do.” The knight’s smile widened. “And here we are.”

“You are a rightass,” Mordred amended his previous statement.

“If that poor young woman must suffer a tragic fate, I would have her time here at least providesomelight of purpose. I have not seen you smile in…a very long time, my liege.” Galahad clasped his hands behind his back.

Mordred shot him an unkind look. “I do not need you mothering me.”

“Someone must.” The knight turned to depart. “You should fetch the girl before she is fed so many pasties that she explodes, however. You know how Maewenn can be.”

“Yes. I do. Thank you.” Mordred wanted to whip his mug at the back of the knight’s head. But there was no point. He sighed. Galahad was right, he should rescue Gwendolyn.

Summoning his armor—as Maewenn was likely to hit him with some cooking implement—he headed down to the kitchens. As he approached, he tried not to laugh at the conversation he overheard from inside. It was extremely one-sided, as was to be expected.

“—and there’s only five. Four! Four and the damn dogs he keeps. Do you know how pointless it is to be a cook with an enormous place like this and only be expected to feedfourmouths? Pah! Waste of metal, I am.”

“I—”

“Eat up, dear. Eat up! Gives me meaning to whatever life I’m supposed to have. You wouldn’t want old Maewenn to rust away down here, would you? Eat.”

“Thanks, but I couldn’t—”

“Try not to kill her, would you, you old bat?” Mordred stood in the doorway, leaning against the wood jamb. Gwendolyn was sitting on a stool at the large center island, a veritable feast arranged in front of her.

“Old bat! Why, I—” Maewenn turned from the stove, ready to unleash hell on him, before pausing. “Oh, my prince!” She curtsied with a quiet clank. “You never come down here.”

“I thought perhaps I should save our new friend from being fed until she is sick.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I wouldnever.”The cook placed her hand on her chest. “She said she was hungry, and she just looks so thin!”

“Comparatively,” he muttered under his breath. Luckily, Maewenn did not hear him. “I intended to fetch our new friend regardless. It is time to begin her training.” He looked to Gwen, who was now watching him in wide-eyed fascination and curiosity.

What a precious thing, that. There was no disgust. No disdain. No revulsion.

Yet.

“If the lady wishes, of course.” He smiled lopsidedly.

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