𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖊𝖓

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Tearing their eyes off each other with difficulty, the princess and the knight hurried forward, reaching Prince Arthur and Garreth waiting for them on the sunlit river bank. They left the shadow-filled forest behind; here, the mist was gone entirely, and a splendid sunshine filtered through the leaves of the few trees growing close to the water.

Ginny noticed how the prince's eyes reproached Sir Lancelot silently when they passed by. Nodding to the knight to ride on with Garreth, the prince let his horse fall behind, obliging Ginny to ride at his side.

Garreth looked around once. His eyes boring into his cousin's emitted a silent warning, to which she mouthed, frowning deeply, 'Why on earth did you not keep him with you?!'

"Sir Geoffrey of Avalon... that's a rather peculiar name," the prince muttered thoughtfully.

Ginny looked at him, forcing her lips into a smile as she replied, "My family comes from the shores of the lake surrounding Glastonbury. Surely you know, my lord, that the people in those parts of our country still believe in the old gods and the legends surrounding them. They call the Isle of Glastonbury by its ancient name. Avalon."

"Yes, I've heard that. This land and its people are most interesting. My mother was born here... Is it true that the fairy folk still live in these parts? That they did not abandon our isles completely?"

"Yes. Some of us can still see them. Only on particularly misty days, though," Garreth replied. He and Sir Lancelot had slowed down and now rode within earshot.

"That's... wonderful," Lancelot said, while Garreth kept trying to catch Ginny's eye, looking worried.

What is wrong with him? the princess mused, but she didn't really care... She didn't care about anything when Lancelot was close; it was just him, and her... She shook her head, appalled by the images her mind swiftly produced to match her wayward thoughts.

"The fairy folk vanished from Caledonia long ago," Prince Arthur said.

Ginny nodded, nudging her annoying fringe away from her eyes. It was hot here, in the sunshine. She wished she could take her heavy gambeson off. "They keep close to Avalon, the Holy Island," she muttered, remembering the old bard's tales.

Her father's wizard and bard, the venerable Myrddin, told her so many of them as she grew up. Fantastical tales of the times long gone, of people, kings and queens, and mystical creatures who once inhabited Britain... Apart from a few wizards and witches who did not abandon the isles, now there was just the fairy folk that still lived in Albion, dragons in Caledonia and, allegedly, giants and cat-monsters in Combrogia... But no one could be sure about that; King Gwynedd guarded the secrets of his realm too closely.

"Shall we stop and refresh ourselves, my lord?" Lancelot's words disturbed Ginny's reverie. "It's too hot, we should wash and rest for a while."

In that moment, she realised for the first time that, maybe, Lancelot knew that she was a girl. The knight was looking at her as he said that, his eyes leaving her heated, glowing face for her shoulders, slumped under the weight of the crossbow.

She looked away from him only to meet Garreth's eyes, screaming at her, 'I'm sure he knows!'

Well, if the perceptive Sir Lancelot knew that she wasn't who she pretended to be or not, there was nothing much she could do about it right now, was there?

Ginny followed the men under the closest tree and let herself slip off the horse heavily, thankful to the knight for suggesting the break. She dropped her sword and crossbow on the tall grass, and while the men tethered the horses and spread out a blanket and some food under the tree, she dragged herself to the river.

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