Page 40 of To Charm a Dark Prince

Stupid, Gwen. Stupid, stupid, stupid Gwen.

TWELVE

Mordred had led her to an enormous room with a massive metal table in the center of it. It was circular, with elaborate chairs placed around the edge. Each chair was made of a different kind of metal—iron, gold, silver, copper, tin, and what looked like cobalt and nickel. Seven in total.

A seat for Mordred and each of his knights, it was clear. She let out a breath. This was as close to being at the round table as she would ever get, she expected.

In the center of the table, some eight feet in diameter, was inlaid a map of what must be Avalon. It was an island, dominated by a single mountain peak in the middle.

She couldn’t help but picture Neverland—she wondered if this place had managed to inspirePeter Panin any way. It seemed like it would track. It certainly had a scary man with metal weapons for hands, that was for damn sure.

“Tell me your story, Gwendolyn Wright.”

Gwen blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. She glanced over to him. Mordred was pouring her what looked like whiskey into a glass. She wasn’t usually one for straight alcohol, butmanshe was sore from their so-called training. When he approached her with it, she smiled and muttered a quiet thank you.

Taking a sip, she coughed. “Damn.” She took another sip, feeling much less of a burn that time.

He chuckled, clearly deeply amused. “Well, go on.”

“Why do you want to know? I’m not the interesting one.” She looked back down at the map. There were little figurines placed around on the surface like a war map from some medieval movie. They all looked extremely dusty—as though they hadn’t been touched in, well, centuries. “And I thought I was here to learn your story?”

“You are. But as I suspect yours is much shorter, we should start with that.”

Rolling her eyes, she took another sip of the whiskey. He had a point, she supposed. “There isn’t much to tell. I grew up on a farm, raising animals and growing corn. I went to school and did great. I wanted to go to college to become a historian or a veterinarian—an animal doctor—because animals are, like, my favorite thing in the world. But that wasn’t in the cards.”

“Why not?” He walked around the edge of the table to stand by the iron chair, his gaze fixed on the map in front of him.

“I…well, you’ve seen it. I have panic attacks.” She shrugged. “I’ve had them ever since I was little. I can’t breathe and, more often than not, I pass out. My parents didn’t think sending me away to a big city was safe. We also couldn’t afford it. So I…stayed behind.”

“You clearly do not agree with their decision.”

“It is what it is.” She sipped the whiskey. It was tasty now that she’d got over the burning. “I just wish—” No. There was no point in going down that road.

“What, Gwendolyn?”

“You can call me Gwen, by the way. It’s easier. I only get called Gwendolyn when I’m in trouble.” She smiled faintly at him. “And I just wish I could have gone with all my friends to the city. I didn’t want to be trapped in Kansas on the farm my whole life. Maybe if I could have gone, my boyfriend wouldn’t have cheated on me.”

That caught his attention. Rust-colored eyes flicked up to her. “I am sorry. Betrayal is never an easy thing to overcome.” His expression darkened. “I empathize. Trust me.”

“That sounds like a whole-ass can of worms.”

He shook his head. “Another tale for another time. You will know it soon enough, I am sure. Continue—how did you come to Avalon?”

She didn’t want to lie to Mordred, but she also had no reason to trust him. And until she knew what he was planning on doing to her, she wasn’t going to stick her finger into the proverbial live socket. She might not like Merlin, but she also didn’t have any reason to believe that Mordred wouldn’t chuck her into the Iron Crystal the moment he learned that the asshole cat had brought her there.

“I was having a bad day. I had just learned that Mick was cheating on me, and we broke up. I ordered a pizza, lit a candle, and settled in to watch a movie.” Now came the lie. She stared down into her alcohol, hoping it helped hide her fib. “The candle must have gotten knocked over. The house caught fire. In a panic, I ran upstairs. There was a—I don’t know how to describe it—a portal? Hole in space? Whatever. I jumped through, figuring it was better than burning to death. I woke up in a crater in the woods, naked, and found my way to the village. You know the rest from there.”

“I see.” It was clear he didn’t quite believe her story. But he also didn’t seem like he wanted to call her out on it. He swirled the alcohol in his own glass before taking a sip of it.

He was staring down at the map of Avalon with a dourness she’d yet to see from him. She wanted to examine the map closer—she had a million questions, including about the portion of the map by the center mountain which readRuins of Camelot.

But now wasn’t the time.

“Tell me, Gwen—what would you sacrifice to protect your world, even from itself?”

“I…honestly don’t know. It’s never come up.” She tried to make a joke, but it fell as flat as a lead balloon.

“Sadly, it has for me. And in the end, I sacrificed everything—and everyone—to protect Avalon from its own arrogance and destruction.” He shut his eyes for a moment. “But I am getting too far ahead of myself. Time was once that Avalon’s population was a million strong, perhaps more,” Mordred began. “Now we are twenty thousand, if that. The rest are imprisoned within the Iron Crystal. And there, they must remain, lest Avalon be pitched once more into war and chaos.”

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