The following sunlit and cool morning, the Festival of Ostara Hunt in the Darkling Woods started off a little slow. Arthur and Mithian rode side-by-side for most of it, chatting and laughing, and the king’s resolve to call off their engagement and send her home wavered. He thought back to his previous night with Mithian. The woman’s body had felt so damn good. She was honest, smart, and passionate. If it hadn’t been for the memories of Guinevere, he would have otherwise called the night a success. Perhaps he should reconsider things… “Deer!” called out Sir Leon suddenly, interrupting Arthur’s thoughts. Leon took aim, but shook his head, indicating he wasn’t lined up for a good shot. “Sire, she’s yours.” Arthur took aim with his crossbow and fired. Somehow, his shot missed the target by a wide margin, which he didn’t understand. He peered at …show more content…
He missed the woman more than he could explain. Without her, he felt a terrible emptiness deep within his soul, a gaping hole no other would fill. Ever. Guilt burned within him on so many levels. Sleeping with Mithian hadn’t fixed a thing. The temporary comfort and warmth of being wanted again had made Arthur feel good for a moment, but those feelings were fleeting. Mithian had given Arthur a gift, and he was about to give her nothing but a sore heart. And Mithian aside, what of Guinevere? Arthur had her engagement ring in his possession, the one he’d given her. He knew it meant she was still alive and out there, somewhere. But was she all right? Could she be hurt? If he ever saw Guinevere again, would she forgive him for going to bed with another woman? Would she ever want him again if she knew? Yes, Guinevere had kissed Lancelot, but according to her, it had gone no further. How would she feel when she learned Arthur was no longer a virgin? “I’m sorry. So damn sorry,” Arthur whispered to no one. And everyone.