Page 82 of To Charm a Dark Prince

The reason why he was making all these foolish mistakes. And the reason why he would now have to resort to something drastic to save all that he had worked for, for so long. There was only one way forward. One answer. One path. And it made him wish to rip someone’s limbs off in his fury.

I must make her betray me. I must, so that I can put her in the Crystal and be done with her.

Lancelot was right. And nothing pained Mordred more than to admit it.

I must. Because I love her.

TWENTY-FOUR

“What has that blasted pile of ego and arrogance done to you? Oh, honey! Come here, sit—sit.”

Gwen smiled faintly at Maewenn as the cook hustled her into the room and plopped down onto a stool. Maewenn was already gathering up some cloth that was likely used to wrap cheese or bread and dunking it into a pot of boiling water on the stove. “Thanks. It’s fine. We were training and things got out of hand.”

“Out of hand. Again? Pah! He should know better.” Maewenn huffed. Gwen studied the cook, finding herself caught up in the details of the strange creature. Her dress was made out of panels of armor, linked together in a haphazard and almost nonsensical way. The armor she wore looked like it was made out of kitchen items that had been flattened in a trash compactor or under a steamroller. One section of her leg looked exactly like what Gwen would imagine a perfectly squished teapot would look like.

Once, when Gwen was a kid, she had left a bag of gummy bears out in the hot car on a summer day. It had all run together into one gloopy pile of bears. Her dad had poured it out onto a cookie sheet to cool in the fridge. What came out was perfectly smooth, but still with the distinct colorations and outlines of the bears.

Maewenn looked like that. Only with kitchen pots and pans and anything else metal that must have been nearby. The cook hummed thoughtfully. “I can’t abide him training with a little thing like you…No, I think he was just looking for an excuse, dear.”

“An excuse for what?” Gwen huffed. “To beat me up?”

“That is how some boys show their affection. Some grow out of it.” The cook pulled the cloth out of the boiling water and wrung it out over the sink. Clearly, the hot liquid didn’t bother her metal hands. “That bastard clearly hasn’t.”

“I knew a kid like that in high school. Picked on this one girl so hard that I thought she was going to cry. Pulled her hair, threw balled-up pieces of paper at her. They’ve been dating for a few years now.” Gwen looked down at the cut on her arm. It wasn’tthatbad. But a bandage would be helpful.

“Boys. Like I said.” Maewenn dabbed at the cut carefully.

The fabric was extremely hot but not burning her. And she didn’t even mind the heat. Gwen blinked.Can I even burn now? Even from water? Huh.It was something she didn’t really want to test out. “Yeah, he’s interested in me. So is Lancelot. But they’re both just bored.”

“Couldn’t be that you’re an attractive young woman. Not at all.” Maewenn poked her in the nose before beginning to wrap the wound. “You seem like a sweet thing too. I see you out there with the hounds. But you’re smart to be wary of ’em both. Each of them could have ulterior motives. There was this one time—”

Maewenn launched into some long-winded story about some goat trader and his wife, about how the goat trader only got married because of the woman’s huge tracts of land. Honestly, Gwen had stopped paying attention. Instead, she was dwelling on Mordred.

Lancelot was sweet and well-meaning. He was trying to save his world.

Mordred was cruel and dangerous. He wasalsotrying to save his world.

But there was something about the Prince in Iron that pushed Gwen’s buttons. There was something about the darkness that ran deep through him that was alluring. Something like a whisper in the shadows that called her name and saidcome and see.She knew she shouldn’t. Sheknewit was a terrible idea.

But she wanted to.

She really wanted to.

Maewenn finished bandaging up Gwen’s arm and tucked the end of the fabric into itself to keep it secure. “There! Right as rain by the morning, I suspect. You elementals heal quickly.”

“That’s a nice bonus.” She stood from the stool. “I think I’m going to go lie down for a while.” She couldn’t get her thoughts straight. There were too many things tumbling around inside her head. “Thanks. For the bandage. And for being a friend.”

“If you’re troubled, go find Galahad. That big old tree of a man is always good for talking through difficult topics.” Maewenn went back to the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled like a pot roast.

“That’s good advice. Thanks again.” Gwen headed for the door, glad for the bandage, but not feeling much better about anything else. Maybe Maewenn was right. Maybe Galahad would have some good insight. He knew both Lancelot and Mordred better than she did, after all.

Couldn’t be too hard to find a guy that was as tall as a damn telephone pole.

Or so she thought.

She wandered around the castle for probably an hour. By the time she found him, she was starting to limp a little. Her hip hurt.

When she caught sight of Galahad in a small courtyard toward the back of the keep, she froze. He was standing with his back to her, facing a lion’s head fountain that poured from the wall into a half-circle of stones that formed the base of the pool.

---