Page 84 of To Charm a Dark Prince

“But.” She shrugged. “I don’t feel the same when I’m around him as I do around Mordred. But I shouldn’t like Mordred. I’m supposed to be his enemy.”

“Who tells you this?”

She paused. “Like, everybody. But I get why Mordred is doing all this. I just don’t think it’s right.”

“You are an empathetic creature, Gwen. Most would not be able to see the reasons behind his actions and feel sympathy for him. I suppose the trouble simply remains in what you wish to do about where you have found yourself.”

“I guess.”

When Galahad spoke again, his voice was soft and overflowing with emotion. “Her name is Zoe. An elemental of air. She was—is—the love of my life. She resides in the Crystal with all the rest. My heart is trapped within that cage of iron with her.”

She thought her heart might shatter for him. Just crack completely in two.

“But do not mistake me,” Galahad shut his eyes. “Even with my own grief and loss…I would not shatter the Crystal to free her.”

“What?” She blinked.

“It has taken me nearly all three centuries to come to terms with what he has done. To truly see the simple rational actions behind that which caused us so much horrible pain. But you have not seen the damage that elementals have caused—the price of their constant wars. You have not ridden through villages that were reduced to nothing but rubble and corpses.” He looked away, the creases at his eyes deepening.

It was clear he was seeing those things in his mind’s eye as he spoke. “You have not seen the bodies of mothers fallen over their children, trying to spare their little lives even at the cost of their own. You have not seen those same babes, dead in their arms. The sacrifice useless in the end. The elementals, each one at the other’s throats, spelled the end for so many more broken hearts than simply mine.”

“But…I…” She didn’t know what to say.

“How many cities would you see like that, how many lives would you see needlessly spent, before you said enough? Mordred sought to save those who could not save themselves. And who am I, what kind of knight would I be, if I did not seek to do the same?”

She couldn’t take it anymore. She stood and hugged him. Since he was sitting, they were almost at the same level. He rested his head on her shoulder and held her tight. She didn’t know if he was crying, but now she certainly was.

It reminded her of the time that one of their first family goats had grown old and passed away. Her dad had sat next to the old billy, stroking his fur and weeping.

Dad tears were the worst.

When Galahad let out a breath and stood, she wiped away her tears and tried to regain her composure. Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head, and silently left her standing there by the fountain, watching the flecks of gold at the bottom shimmer.

She knew the answer to what she should do. She finally knew.

Mordred was right.

Lancelot was wrong.

The Crystal had to stay. Letting out a wavering sigh, it felt kind of good to have an answer, finally. Even if it meant mayhem. She had to tell Mordred the truth.

Gwen set off to go find him. It was late now—she had missed dinner. But that was fine, she wasn’t that hungry. The clock said it was nearly midnight. The prince might be asleep. She found him sitting in one of the many libraries, sitting at a table by the fire, gazing down at a map of Avalon.

“Can’t sleep?” She cautiously approached the table. When they had last seen each other in the afternoon, he’d been in amood.

“That is not uncommon for me.” His gauntlets were gone, for once, and he ran a hand down his face. “You?”

“Haven’t tried yet.” She paused. “Can I join you?”

He gestured at a chair beside him. “I see you have yet to burn the building down.”

“Nobody’s given me a panic attack yet.” She smirked and grunted a little as she sat down. Her hip hurt. “My attacks seem to be getting slowly spaced farther apart, anyway. That’s a nice plus.”

“Indeed.” He paused. “I was unkind to you again this afternoon.” It wasn’t an apology, just a statement. She figured it was going to be the best that she got out of him.

She shrugged. “You made your point.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, those molten, rust-orange eyes of his watching her. “Did I?”

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