"I am certain the countess has already informed you of our chat."

"Actual y, no. I have not spoken with Isabel at al since breaking fast."

"Oh."

"Why, what has she to do with your recovery?"

Truth was truly Gwen's only choice. Arthur could always tel when Gwen was hiding something from him. He had known, almost immediately, about Lance. Oh, not that she and Lance had become ... intimately involved, but he had known there was something amiss. "She came to see me in our ... in my chambers this morning. We had a talk."

"Talking cured you, then? We must bottle this and sel it to our healers."

"Please, Arthur, do not make this harder than it is."

He nodded. "My apologies. That was uncal ed for. Do you wish to share what transpired?"

"She ... made me very aware that I was letting you down. I was letting Camelot and its people down by shirking my duties."

"Do you feel she overstepped her bounds?"

"Yes. I mean no." She shook her head. "She appears to be the only one brave enough to tel me some truths I needed to hear."

Arthur peered at her. "I could swear there is a veiled insult toward me in there somewhere, but as you have just recovered from a nasty poisoning, I wil overlook it."

"No, no, 'twas not meant as one at al . You are trusting, Arthur. If I tel you I am stil not feeling wel , you wil accept it to be so."

"Why the ruse, Gwen? What was there to gain?"

She stared down at her hands. "Perhaps to gain your attention."

"You did not have to feign il ness, Gwen. You have but to ask."

"I am asking."

"And at this moment," he said, rising and moving to the door, closing it, "you have my undivided attention." He returned to his desk and sat. "What is on your mind?"

"You have been a wonderful husband, Arthur. Loving and attentive, patient as I learned the ways of the crown. You have been nothing but good to me."

"I am very glad you think so."

"And I repaid that with a betrayal that I regret deeply. If I were able to turn back time-"

"'Twould have changed nothing. It was fate that you and Lance fal in love. I could no more prevent that from happening than I can prevent rain or snow."

"We could-"

"No," he interrupted, "we cannot. You are stil in love with Lance, as he is with you. Desperately so, as a matter of fact. Should you deny that now I wil lose what little respect I have left for you. Not to mention I wil never forgive you should you shatter Lance's heart. I do not blame him. I blame you not, either." He raised his hands and shrugged. "It just happened, Gwen. But that young man means a great deal to me, and I wil look very poorly upon anyone who would harm him in any way."

"So you stil care about him but not your wife?"

"Gwen, if I did not care, you would be answering to a charge of treason right now. As I have said to you, too many times to count, I do not care what you and Lance do. I care only that you not be caught by any person who would have no trouble accusing you of crimes against the king. Right now there is no legal remedy here in Camelot for the predicament we find ourselves in. Although I am looking very seriously into a system they have in Dumont, where they may cal for dissolution of marriage where neither man nor wife must admit to blame. I believe Countess Isabel cal s it 'no-fault dissolution.' "

"You have discussed the intimate details of our situation with the countess?"

"I admit that I have."

"How dare you?"

"I dare, Guinevere, because I trust her. I trust her thoughts and opinions."

She covered her flaming cheeks. "I am so ... mortified that you shared something so personal with a virtual stranger."

"She is no stranger. Whilst you were lying in bed, feigning il ness, she has become a friend and col eague."

Gwen stared at him and the truth cut deeply. "You have fal en in love with her."

He hesitated only a moment before nodding. "That, yes, is true."

"Does she realize?"

"I have a fair feeling that she is wel aware, yes."

"Does she ... return your feelings for her?"

"I desperately hope that she does."

"How dare you ... shame me like this? How dare she come as a welcome guest only to-"

He pounded a fist on his desk, and the fire in his eyes had her shrinking back in her chair. "I dare you to finish that thought, Gwen. I dare you to logical y finish that thought."

She kept silent as he leaned forward, dril ing her with his gaze. "What happened with Isabel was not planned or expected. Just as with you and Lance, it was fated to be. Would I change it if I could, as you seem to want to dismiss history? Not one chance in Hades. Other than that pesky problem that I am not free to ask her to marry me, I would not change a single thing."

In the past, tears had always melted Arthur's heart. Gwen knew they no longer had the power to move him. At least not her own tears. I will not cry. I will not cry.

"If not for what happened with Lance ..."

"But it did."

"But if it did not?"

"Isabel would merely be another royal guest. Is that what you want to hear? That I would ne'er have betrayed my vows? If so, you would be right. I would most likely have looked upon her as another fresh mind to add to the mix of those who wil gather here to meet and exchange ideas. But I already knew, Gwen. I already had my heart broken by you. When I saw her, I recognized that I had gotten over the heartbreak. And I felt free to want another."

"I see."

"I have no desire to hurt you, Gwen. This is not some kind of revenge. Had you not asked, I would not have said a word, as it is no one's business but mine and Isabel's. But you asked. And as you know, I value truth. And you deserve as much."

She took a breath and squared her shoulders. "I realize my next question wil sound selfish and self-serving, Arthur, but I must ask. Should there come a time when we are able to accomplish this no-fault, what wil happen to me? What wil happen to Lance?"

"You two wil be free to marry."

"But where? And how?"

"I have thought of this. If Lancelot prefers to stay in Briton, rather than return to his homeland, then I wil lease land to the two of you, over which you wil preside as leaders of whate'er you cal it. You may start a new life together."

She swal owed, hard. "But-"

"I anticipate your next question and wil not al ow you to humiliate yourself by forcing you to ask. I wil take care of you for the rest of your days, Gwen. I wil not leave you destitute. You wil always be kept in comfort. That portion of my promises to you I wil keep. I have no wish to see you struggle."

"Lance wil not al ow us to be on your dole, Arthur."

"Should he stay as a soldier at Camelot, he wil be recompensed wel . He is, after al , one of my finest and most loyal." His smile was sadly cynical. "On the battlefield."

"He loves you as a father, Arthur. It tears him up inside."

"You may or may not take this as true, Gwen, but I believe that with everything in me. Did I not believe it, he would no longer be drawing breath."

Gwen rose on shaky legs. "Believe this, Arthur. I also love you."

"I believe that as wel ."

"For then I would also not be drawing breath."

"There is no chance I would have you harmed, Gwen. I cannot say as much for those so loyal that they would seek vengeance for their king."

She shuddered. "Al right, Arthur, so what now? How do we go forward from this moment?"

"You are queen. As such, you wil attend to the duties asked of you in that capacity. To al around, nothing has changed."

"Yes."

"You have always been an excel ent queen, Gwen. Do not begin to fake it now."

"Yes, I understand."

"Discretion, Gwen. Discretion."

"Yes."

"And, please, no more experiments with new foods. I truly do not want a repeat of the mushrooms. Most importantly, do not ever attempt to try them in foods being served to al ."

"I wil not."

Arthur stood. "One last thought, Gwen, that I must insist you carry with you at al times."

"Yes?"

"Isabel saved your life. But not for her quick ministrations, we would not be having this conversation."

"I am aware."

"Whether you believe it or nay, she does truly care about you. She sympathizes with al of the twisted emotions swirling around us al . Should anything untoward happen to her, should I even see an unexplained scratch upon her person, you wil see wrath as you have ne'er even imagined."

Final y the tears Gwen had been trying so desperately to blink back came to surface. "She saved my life once days ago, Arthur. She came to me this morn to attempt to save it once again. This I wil ne'er forget."

"I hope you do not. As strange as this might sound to you, she would make an excel ent friend and al y."

"And as strange as this may sound, Arthur, I would so very much like to make her both."

He nodded, walking her to the door. "You wil not be sorry."

"I wil not let on that I know of this love betwixt you."

"No need to. I shal tel her this evening. As you should tel Lance."

She nodded, then squeezed the back of his hand. "This time I shal not disappoint you."

She started to leave and then turned back. "Do any of the servants know?"

"Why ask you this?"

"So I am ful y aware of who I may speak frankly in front of."

"James and Mary. They know. At least, I am presuming so." His lips tipped up in a slight grin. "They intervened in a rather amusing way when Isabel and I had a slight misunderstanding."

She nodded, although she could not believe al that had transpired as she lounged in her bed. "I am thinking it would make a good tale one day."

"It would indeed."

She waved toward his desk. "I wil leave you to your planning. And I thank you, Arthur, for your honesty and your ... compassion."

"And I thank you, as wel , for your honesty this day. I wish you happiness, Gwen. I truly do."

"I know. I wish the same for you."

ARTHUR closed the door behind Gwen, because privacy was something he craved as he pondered al that had just been said.

"I wil take 'The Most Happy Man in Camelot at This Moment' for a thousand, Alex," he whispered.

"Who is King Arthur?" he answered himself. "Correct!"

He shook his head, smiling, as he unrol ed the parchment. "Isabel, my love, you have most certainly made me batty."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.