Page 50 of To Charm a Dark Prince

“Ignore him. He’s…unfriendly.” Lancelot was in one of the other stables, patting the neck of a normal-looking white stallion. “Much like his master.”

“Maybe he just needs a hug.” She smirked.Much like his master,she finished in her head. She opted to leave that bit out. That was all she needed—a lecture from Lancelot about her interest in Mordred.

Was it interest? There was certainly attraction. She didn’t know. She needed more time to figure it out.

The knight chuckled. “Good luck and godspeed should you try.” He motioned toward one of the other open stables. “Nina is all ready for you.”

“Oh, hello there, sweetheart.” She smiled at the horse in question. She was a beautiful black-and-white-spotted mare. Walking up to her, she reached out her hand to let the horse sniff her. When the animal nosed her, wondering if she had treats, she chuckled. “Maybe when we get back, I’ll see if I can find a nice carrot for you, huh?”

“Do you spoil your lovers the same way you spoil animals?” Lancelot teased as he led his own horse out of the stable and into the center aisle. The four hounds were already running around the courtyard, barking and playing, sensing that they were about to go out and about.

“Animals deserve it.” Gwen followed after him, holding the reins to Nina as she led the mare outside. Lancelot was a flirt. That tracked, she supposed. But she didn’t take it seriously. It was probably just how he liked to talk.

“Well, I suppose I will just have to earn it then. My lady, do you need assistance with mounting your horse?”

“Nah, but thanks.” She smiled. “This isn’t the first time I’ve saddled up and ridden, though I admit I’m a little out of practice.”

He put his foot in the stirrup and mounted his stallion. Lancelot grinned at her playfully over his shoulder. “You could saddle me and ride me off into the field if it would help.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes at the same time. “That was the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard. And you wish.” She hopped up onto the horse, having to gather up the fabric of her dress around her thighs to keep from flashing Lancelot in the worst way. It was awkward, riding a horse in a skirt. But she was not going to ride side-saddle even if it killed her.

Lancelot led the way as they rode out of the courtyard, heading toward the gate in the rampart that was already open for them. The field beyond was dry, the grass the pale yellow-white color of hay. It swayed and rustled in the wind.

Perpetual autumn. Right. This place hadn’t had a spring, summer, or winter in…honestly, she didn’t know. Three hundred years, ish? Maybe? Or sunlight, for that matter. She rode alongside him as they plodded out into the field. Eod and his other doggy friends were already running ahead of them toward the woods, chasing each other or stopping to sniff things in the tall grass.

There was a packed dirt road that led down a slope toward the woods. Turning, she looked back up at the keep. It was an impressive stone building, looking like every cartoon or cliche castle she could think of. It sat built into a cliff, surrounded by nothing on three sides, and the field on the fourth. It must make it really easy to defend.

But also really easy to get trapped inside, she figured.

Mordred has a dragon. He can fly off whenever he wants.

“Do places like this still exist on Earth?” Lancelot asked, noticing what she was staring at.

“Mostly as museums or ruins. There are still some that people live in, I guess. It’s beautiful, if a bit severe.”Much like its master, she added again in her head.

“It would not look so gloomy if the sun ever shone in Avalon.” He sighed. “I am merely glad that the plants and animals receive enough light to survive. What a tragedy it would be if we were in a total wasteland.”

“I’d get so depressed, never seeing the sun.” She frowned. “I can’t imagine how you all put up with it.” Their horses walked side by side along the path as they approached the trees. They were tall, some with bare branches, others with brown leaves holding on. There were very few evergreens in the mix, but even those she saw were somehow forlorn and desaturated in the gray and dreary overcast light.

“We have no choice. We cannot die. We cannot live.” Lancelot’s features were set into a glower as he stared ahead at the woods. “But certainly, it is better to languish in such a terrible state of non-existence when the alternative is chaos and war, yes?”

She almost laughed at how thick his sarcasm was. “I don’t know, honestly. I’m still trying to figure that out. Do you really think it’s my place to decide the fate of everybody on the island?” It was bizarre of her to think that they would put so much trust in her. They didn’t know her. And she didn’t know them. They must really be desperate.

“Yes! You must see that you are—” He sighed. “I am sorry. I do not mean to burden you with these troubles of ours. You have enough with which to contend without me heaping more atop the rest.”

“No, I’d rather know. What do you mean?” The forest road turned a corner, taking them past a pond with an arrangement of rocks around the edges that didn’t look natural. They were placed every few feet in a ring, almost like they were meant for people to sit on—or like a small stone henge. But judging by the moss and leaves covering them, whatever it was meant for hadn’t been used in a long time.

“It would be best if I explained first why I am bound to service to Mordred. It might give you some insight into my feelings.” Lancelot shut his eyes as if bracing himself for a long and painful story. “I was a loyal knight to King Arthur. The one and true ruler of Avalon. I came here with the others—including Mordred—when Arthur was mortally wounded in battle. We brought him here in hopes that his life could be saved by the magic of the isle. But in a crime against God and all fairness, it chose Mordred instead.”

Gwen stayed quiet, listening. That lined up at least with the bit that Mordred had told her.

Lancelot continued. “On his deathbed, seeing that Mordred had been chosen over him, Arthur did the noble thing—passed his sword and his crown to his nephew.”

His crown? Mordred was supposed to be king?“But he’s still a prince.” They rode past a giant tree that reached up high over them. It must have been ancient. She stared up at it, mouth agape, marveling at its enormity. She had gone to the west coast a few times with her dad to visit family and go camping—the tree was easily the size of a redwood, though it looked more like an ash tree than anything else.

“The other elementals of Avalon refused to recognize him. And I agree with them.” Lancelot sneered. “And my fervor to see the wrongs of this world made right began that day and has only increased since then. I rallied the loyal knights to stand against Mordred. I thought perhaps that if Mordred were dead, the gift of iron would go to Arthur as God intended.”

“You tried to kill him?”No wonder Mordred doesn’t trust any of you. No wonder Mordred doesn’t trust anyone.She blinked. “Fuck. Clearly, it didn’t work.”

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