Page 68 of To Charm a Dark Prince

“I think perhaps you’re better off pursuing Lancelot as an ally. He also seems…desperate…and at least wants to ensure the downfall of Mordred.” The disgust in Merlin’s voice was palpable. “If you can manage not to make an ass of yourself with that one. Perhaps you could play the two against each other.”

“I think they’re already against each other.” She pulled the blankets up over her shoulder. “Please go away.”

The cat climbed up onto her side, sinking his claws into the blanket and her skin. “You are not taking this seriously, girl. This is not avacation.You have a job to do.”

“I know, I know. Get the necklace off permanently. Blow up the Crystal. Send Avalon back into a state of complete chaos, and maybe you’ll send me home. Or maybe you can’t, and you’re lying to me.” She glared at him, and used her arm to push him off her. “Maybe Mordred is the only one telling me the truth around here.”

“Do not tell me you are actually considering siding with him.” Merlin let out that low angry cat warning sound that always reminded her of a tornado siren gearing up. “I knew you were a fool, but I couldn’t imagine you werethisstupid.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such an asshole to me all the time, and told me what was going on, I’d be a bit more trusting.” She glared at him, giving up on falling back asleep while he was still intent on pestering her. “Fact of the matter is, one of you tells me the truth and the other one doesn’t. One of you is nice to me, and the other one isn’t.”

“Typical human.” The hair on his back rose and then flattened. “Onlyme, me, me,with no sense of the bigger picture. Do you want to know the truth? Very well. I have been trapped inside that damnable Crystal, suffering in a liminal state of being, hearing the millions of voices of the souls trapped with me, screaming and pleading for freedom and mercy. I have felt pieces of my power drain away, stolen by that bastard to be put into his trinkets and toys.” He bared his teeth, single fang and all. “He isdestroyingus, Gwen. Little by little.”

She sat up. “What?”

“How do you think he makes his armored servants, eh? Ask him yourself.” The cat bared his single fang.

“I…”

“It is pieces of souls that he takes, pieces of our very essence that he robs to remake this world in his own damn image!” He kept his voice a low hiss to keep from alerting the guards. “I escaped and nearly died. And where do I wind up? Withyou.Trapped in this—this tiny, broken shape, with almost nothing of myself left. And my only hope for freedom—to be set free from this terrible suffering—is withyou.A simpering, whining, idiot child who cannot stay focused for ten minutes!”

Gwen didn’t know what to say. “I…I’m sorry.”

“As you should be.” He turned his back to her and walked across the bed toward the far end. “You are getting close to Mordred in order to betray him. Remember that.” He jumped down, disappearing into a swirl of black smoke as he did, leaving her alone.

Lying back down with a hard exhale, something told her she wasn’t going back to sleep. She tossed and turned for what felt like an hour before she got up, unable to take it anymore. Getting dressed and pulling a cloak around herself, she headed to the door. She pressed the latch and heard it click before she remembered that Mordred had locked it on his way out.

“Are you in need of something, my lady?” one of the guards called from outside.

“Yeah. I was hoping to go for a walk. I can’t sleep.” She sighed. “I promise I’m sober now.”

The lock clicked, and the door swung open. One of the guards gestured toward the hallway. At least they were nice sentient suits of armor.

She smiled. “Thanks. I’ll stay inside, I promise. I just need to clear my head.”

Neither of them replied as she headed down the hallway. She realized she forgot to put shoes on the moment her feet touched the cold stone floors. But that was fine—it was a little bit of a relief, strangely. Something about it felt grounding.

Her wanderings brought her back to the balcony where she had found Mordred a day or so earlier—had it honestly been less than a week of this nonsense?Cripes.That didn’t seem fair. Leaning against the stone railing, she shut her eyes and just let herself breathe in the chill night air. She could hear crickets chirping in the field. If she tried really hard—really, really hard—she could fool herself into thinking she was safe at home.

But this wasn’t Kansas.

And she certainly wasn’t safe.

“Can’t sleep either?” someone said as they walked up to her.

Glancing over, she was surprised to see Lancelot. “No. Too much on my mind.”

“I thought the mead might have knocked you out until morning.” He smirked at her, clearly teasing her a little for her drunkenness.

“I wasn’tthatbad, was I?” She frowned.

“No. You were not. But I enjoy watching that little line appear between your brows when you are mildly concerned by something.” He chuckled and poked her forehead lightly. “Like you’re doing right now.”

“Great.” She smiled at his ribbing, and returned to leaning on the railing and looking out over the dark field and the woods beyond. “You’ll see it a lot, I’m sure.”

“I hope that is the case. Meaning”—he quickly tried to cover—“that I hope I have the opportunity to see you in the future, not that I hope you are concerned by things.”

He wasn’t nearly as intense as Mordred. But that wasn’t a bad thing. He seemed…almost normal. Almost a person. Not some extremely “extra” demigod supervillain. Resting her elbow on the railing and her head on her hand, she stared out at the woods. “I don’t know what to do, Lance.”

---