"Why?"

"Because I ne'er had such a friendly exchange betwixt any of my servants and me."

"Hey, they're stil loyal to you."

"'Tis not the same. As castle servants, loyalty is to be expected."

"I believe true loyalty ought to be earned not just expected or required."

"What have I done wrong?"

"Nothing much different than what royalty has been doing forever. Princess Di, was an exce-" Her necklace thumped. She sighed. "You view them as tools, not as people. Should you actual y learn their names and anything about their loves and lives, you could do something like-gasp!- befriend them individual y."

"You have been here naught but two nights, and yet you have already managed to accomplish that."

Isabel took Gwen's hand. "The men and women who serve you are loyal, Gwen. And trust me, you could be much worse. You could, for example, be Hitler."

Thump.

"But you are not. From what I've heard, al who work in the castle have much respect for you. If not for that respect, you and Lance would have been outed a long time ago."

Gwen's head snapped up. "My pardon?"

"Oh, please, Gwen, about the only ones in this castle unaware are the dogs and the chickens. And I wouldn't put half the dogs on the stand."

"What you speak is befuddling. I ... have always taken my vows to Camelot seriously."

"To Arthur, not so much. You broke that one when you strayed on your husband. It's a credit to him that he is forbidding those who know-and trust me, everyone knows-to speak of how you've broken your vows."

Gwen stood. "That is not true."

Isabel looked up at her. "Which, that you've broken vows or that everyone knows about it?"

Gwen glared down at her. "You have, Countess, overstepped your bounds and my hospitality. I request that you and your retinue prepare to leave Camelot."

Isabel, studied her nails, which truly needed a manicure. She vaguely wondered if Mary was good at that, too. Or if Mary had a friend with the skil .

"Are you having your period, Gwen? Or getting close? Because you've been acting PMS-y al day. Up-down, up-down. You can barely keep your emotions under control."

"Get out."

"Go get Arthur to tel me this, and I wil most definitely grant your wish." Isabel stood up and was at least six inches tal er than that ethereal queen who had turned into a dragon in a nanosecond. PMS for sure. "Until he also agrees that I should leave your kingdom, I'm not going anywhere. Mary asked me to stand beside her at her wedding, and I plan to be there, standing with her. If you and Arthur both object, I wil give her my apologies."

Gwen col apsed onto the steps again, breaking into sobs. "What is wrong with me?"

Isabel's heart broke, and she sat down and cradled Gwen. "About to have that time of month?"

"Time of month?"

"I honestly do not know what you cal it. In my time-"

Thump.

"-my land, I mean, it means having your period. That time of the month when you ... bleed ... down there."

"It is quite about that time."

"See? Hormones are a bitch."

"Who are hormones? Are they people I should know?"

"None you real y want to."

Gwen hiccupped into her chest. "How could you possibly know these things?"

"Trust me, I know, Gwen. I'm famous for pounding men over their heads with copper pots at that time of month."

Gwen giggled. "Truly?"

"Truly. We need to go back to my room and have Mary bring you some tea. Possibly fil ed with some parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme."

Gwen looked up at her. "Truly?"

Isabel shrugged. "It worked for Simon and Garfunkel. It has to work for us."

"And then, we might just order wine."

"Hey, that might work, too."

ISABEL found herself practical y dragging Gwen to her chambers. By the time they reached the room, Mary was there, sprinkling things into the tub.

Mary stood straight, glancing with fear from Gwen to Isabel. "My apologies, mum! I was merely preparing your bath. I wil return when you are ready."

"We need tea, Mary," Isabel said.

"I am so very sorry, Mary," Gwen said, "for ruining a fun day. And we do not want tea, we want wine."

Isabel figured the last thing Gwen needed was wine, but try to talk to a woman going through PMS. She nodded at Mary, mouthing, "I'm sorry!"

"The dark or the white kind?" Mary asked.

"Both," Isabel said. "And please, some cheese and meats and lots and lots of bread to soak up the aftermath."

Mary curtsied, and then Isabel curtsied, and then Mary ran from the room before they got into another battle and giggling fit.

"I do not feel able to climb up on that bed, Isabel."

"How about we just plop down on the floor, Gwen? We can talk and chat like teenagers as if we're having a sleepover."

Gwen slipped to the floor without argument. "What is happening to me, Isabel?"

"Trust me, you wil be feel so much better in the morning." Wait, PMS. Maybe in a couple of days without a pharmacist around to help. "Or very soon."

MARY was so busy keeping the overloaded tray in her hands steady, she nearly ran head-on into King Arthur. She stopped as fast as she was able, which made the tray that much more dangerous.

She attempted to curtsy even as she babbled out her apology.

The king helped her steady the tray, then took it from her hands. He had a smile that could fel a bul . "'Tis al right, Mary. My deepest apologies for startling you."

It took her many moments to col ect her breath.

"The queen is no longer up with the seamstresses, King Arthur, if that is where you're headed."

"I was not. Was I supposed to be?"

It appeared that Lily had failed to find him. "No longer. Sir, I, sir, I, Your Highness, sir, I am so deeply sorry for my clumsiness."

He chuckled softly. "'Twas not your clumsiness at fault here, Mary. 'Twas mine." He glanced down at the tray, with the two goblets, the two wines, and the assortment of meats, cheeses and breads. "Are you headed to the Countess Isabel's quarters?"

"I am, sir."

"So she is entertaining?" he asked.

"She is, sir."

Mary had not been in the king's company for long, but she very much understood the appearance of a man hurt by news. 'Twas the same jaw-ticking, eyes-dropping look she had received the first two times she had refused James's proposals.

She weighed loyalties, and just had to believe that she was not betraying Lady Isabel. "She is entertaining the queen, m'lord."

He glanced up, the light that had extinguished from his eyes only moments ago returning. "She is with Gwen?"

"Yes, m'lord." She felt like skipping. 'Twas twice today that she had made a royal happy. 'Twas a happy day indeed. She could not wait to find a moment to tel James.

"Then by al means, Mary, al ow me to carry this tray to the door for you."

"But, sir!"

"Shhh! We shal be extremely stealthy as we approach. And I wil leave prior to your entrance. They shal never be aware that I was near."

"But I cannot al ow you to carry this tray, my king. 'Tis my job."

"We shal keep it a state secret," he said, with a quite fetching smile. "James would ne'er forgive me for not treating his lady as the lady she is."

"I am no lady, m'lord, I am but at your service."

As they walked up the stairs and down the hal s, her king said, "Al who toil at Camelot are men and women, nothing less."

Mary smiled. "You and my lady Isabel would get on wel . She said much the same thing just an hour ago in the sewing room about treating al in the castle with respect."

"Did she now?"

"She is amazing, m'lord. She has treated me with nothing but kindness and generosity, and if truth be told, she makes me laugh."

He nodded. "I see, so she is perfect."

"Wel ..."

"Find me a fault, Mary."

Mary hesitated. The king grinned at her. "Go ahead. Name one."

"She is a bit picky about the tools I have brought her to clean her teeth and cleanse her breath. She mumbles often about a thing cal ed Listerine.

And she wishes for a thing cal ed floss."

Mary stopped him a few steps away from her mistress's doorway. "I have most likely spoken out of turn. I very much want the countess to believe in me."

The king nodded at her. "If the condition of her teeth is the most you have to say about the countess, do you not realize just how loyal you are to her?"

"There is nothing, sir, to report otherwise. Although I must admit, should there be something else, I believe I would not say so. And I wil not apologize for this. Yet I apologize. Yet there is nothing else. But if it were so ..."

He grinned and whispered, "I get it, Mary."

"She is standing at my side at my wedding, sir."

"And I wil be standing at James's side."

Mary felt her heart jump. "This is true?"

"He asked, I accepted. Is that a problem?"

"No, sir. No, not at al . Although after the queen demanded that Isabel leave, I believed that perhaps we would need to travel to Dumont to say our vows. James does not know this yet. But I believe his love for me is enough that we may exchange vows in any land of our choosing."

The king set down the tray. "When did the queen ask for Isabel to leave Camelot?"

Mary felt her face go from the norm to red-hot fire in a short instant. She should not have overheard that exchange between her queen and her countess on those steps. She had only fol owed to be certain that Isabel-oh, goodness, she was thinking of her as Isabel-had al that she needed.

She could not face the king. "I cannot say, sir."

The king took her shoulders. "When, Mary? Please tel me."

Her slippers were about the only thing she felt good about paying attention to. "I ne'er meant to hear this conversation."

"Please tel me."

"The countess and I were having fun in the sewing room. I know naught what upset the queen. But upset she was, and then the next thing I remember is that the queen was laughing and then weeping, and the countess was helping her. I was not trying to listen, I was trying to see if the countess had need of me. The queen, wel , she did not seem wel . My countess did not have need of me so much. The queen had need of her. They were sitting on the steps and talking. And then Isabel ... I mean the countess ... held her up and led her to the room. The queen, I fear was just not quite right. And my countess was trying to help."

He nodded. "Go on."