“And how about James?” she added.
“Who knew?” Gwen said.
“Mary did. She saw past all of that to his heart. But truly, he’s a very attractive giant.”
Gwen giggled. Then she said, “Even Mordred appears more handsome.”
“He needs a few years to grow into his looks, but he really lucked out in the gene department. I look at him and see Arthur at his age.”
“What did you do, Isabel?”
“What do you mean?”
“Something happened. Until recently he seemed to live to torture his father. But suddenly they are laughing and embracing. I saw them even exercising in the sword sport together just this morn. I just have this feeling that you had something to do with this transformation.” She paused, sipped. “And perhaps something to do with that knee injury.”
“Perhaps,” Isabel said.
They glanced at each other and both started giggling. Isabel raised a fist, pinky finger out. Gwen stared for a moment, then mimicked with her own. Then they hooked up.
“This means the world to me, Isabel.”
“And to me.” Isabel laughed. “Is this the strangest friendship ever?”
“Very possible,” Gwen said. “But rather fun, do you not think?”
“No one would ever believe it.”
“Which is why it is fun.”
A banging sound had them both nearly jumping out of their slippers. They looked over, and Arthur was standing on one of the long tables, getting attention by clanging a utensil against his stein.
“Please, may the happy couple step forward?” he boomed.
Isabel looked up at him and her heart nearly exploded. He was such a larger-than-life presence, so big and strong and, good gods, handsome. And he loved her. He desired her. He wanted to hold and protect her.
Maybe over time she’d be able to get him to be just a little less chauvinistic, but it really did, at this moment, strike her to the core all that he was, all he represented. He was a king, yet he was no dictator. He treated all equally. He valued every person at Camelot, treated them as family. And all here, as far as she had seen so far, adored him and admired him in return. Wonder of wonders, he loved her. She had no idea why, but then again she was not about to question it.
She could barely breathe just staring up at him.
“Please, have all of the servants come join us,” he said. “They have worked so hard to make this night a success.”
There was a moment of silence as Mary and James stepped up to the table and the staff filed in from all parts of the castle.
Arthur glanced around, his eyes squinting. “Well, I know that they are here, but at the moment, I cannot find them. But, James and Mary, you very likely have been too excited and busy to take note, but the queen and the countess worked as hard as all to make this night as memorable for you as is possible.”
Cheers nearly broke Isabel’s ear drums. She grabbed Gwen’s hand and they squeezed. What a strange alliance.
James rumbled up atop the table as well, and Isabel thought all held a collective breath, wondering if there was a table on earth that could hold him. Kudos to the carpenter, this one held under his weight.
“I, too, would care to thank everyone,” James said. “And I, too, thank the queen and the countess for their hard work to make my new life with my beautiful wife, Mary, start with such great joy. Our king may not ken that I saw all that you did, but I indeed was witness to it. And Mary and I cannot even begin to show our gratitude.” Big, large, no, gigantic James had to wipe his eyes. “Our everlasting appreciation. Is Camelot not the greatest kingdom of all?”
Again, the cheers nearly shook the rafters. Actually, Isabel thought, did castles have rafters? Exactly what were rafters, anyway?
“And should there be a greater king to serve than Sir Arthur?”
Again, deafening cheers.
Arthur looked like he wanted to pound his stein over James’s head.
“James, you are my best mate,” he said, “but I fear if you do not climb down from this table, the both of us will crumble in a sea of splintered wood.”
“To King Arthur!” James said, before he not so elegantly began to climb down.
“To our king!” the entire hall cheered.
“Criminey!” Arthur said. “This is about our newlywed couple! Let us keep the eye on the prize, everyone.”
“What?” Gwen said.
Isabel looked down. Arthur was picking up way too many phrases she happened to blurt out at any given moment.
“Mary and James,” Arthur said, “here are the door keys to your cottage. A very, very happy night for you both.”
“Oh, sir, that is a wonderful gift.”
“Where is the queen?” Arthur asked. “Queen Guinevere, please come forward to tell them the rest.”
Gwen again squeezed Isabel’s hand. “This should be you.”
Isabel shook her head. “No, you are the queen, Gwen. Go!”
Gwen walked forward, and Arthur stepped down from the table to greet her. They made such a beautiful couple, Isabel was ready to shoot them both.
Gwen smiled as she took center stage, her crown glistening atop her head.
And then she said, “No, I cannot take credit for the gift that comes next. It is Isabel, Countess of Dumont, who was insistent. Please, Countess, come here to tell Mary and James.”
Isabel wanted to disappear, literally and figuratively.
She shook her head. “No!”
Gwen pointed at her. “Go get her, James.”
Being dragged center stage, at least a foot off the ground, was not exactly her idea of making a grand entrance. But that was exactly what James did, Mary clapping and laughing the entire time.
“My pardon, Countess,” James said as he set her down. “But you have been summoned by the queen.”
“I will get you for this. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but I will get you,” she said to Mary’s new husband. “So watch your back.”
“I will, Countess. I am truly shaking.”
She wanted to glare at him, but how could she? “Bend down,” she said.
He did and she kissed his cheek. “Happy days, James. You make her happy or you answer to me.”
“Now that truly frightens me,” he said.
“Good.”
“This is ridiculous,” she told the crowd. “Your king and queen are responsible, not me.”
“Not true,” Arthur said. “As we all pondered gifts for Mary and James, it was the countess who suggested the one the queen and I offer. So, Countess, please let them know.”
Isabel turned to the couple, then she couldn’t help it. She held up her pinky finger to Mary. Mary laughed and the two hooked up. And then Isabel looked at Gwen. “Your Highness?”
“You know I dislike when you call me that,” Gwen said, but smiled and wrapped her little finger around theirs. “Friends!” the three said, holding their entwined fingers in the air.
They broke apart, laughing. When Isabel finally glanced up, she saw just about everyone in the hall gaping at them. Including Arthur.
Isabel ignored him and cleared her throat. “What the king and queen are too modest to admit is that their gift to Mary and James is not merely the cottage for the night. The gift is the cottage, for the two of them to live in as long as they desire.”
Mary gasped. James staggered a bit. The stunned expressions on their faces were priceless. Good gods, she wished she had her camera.
Mary reached for her and Isabel held her, waiting for Mary’s heaving sobs to settle.
“Mary, it isn’t my gift. It is from the king and queen. You should be thanking them.” She pulled the hanky from her wrist and wiped Mary’s eyes. “Mary. King. Queen. Gift. From them.”
Mary pulled herself together and turned to Arthur and Gwen. She tried to curtsy, but her legs were obviously a little shaky.
Arthur took her arm. “Enough of that.”
“We cannot,” Mary hiccupped, “thank you enough.”
“You may try,” Arthur said, grinning. “I will not be offended.”
Isabel shot him a disgusted look, but then he pulled the big move on her. He winked. And once again she was a goner.