Chapter 63

A Knight's Oath: In Between the Lines.

It was frightfully loud outside, far louder than Guinevere had ever known it to be within the castle of Gwent's vaunted walls. Despite her curiosity, her trust in her father and the isolation of her personal estate, far from the attacking walls, were enough to give her a firm sense of security.

Rather than worry about what was going on outside, she was more concerned about the breach of said 'security,' in her personal chambers no less.

Admittedly she truly had been a tad bit flustered at first, but having looked at the mortified and guilt-ridden expression on Sir Lancelot's face, she didn't know whether to take offence or not. Was he mortified because she was somewhat ugly, or too fat in his perspective that he was utterly appalled by her?

In that case, die.

Her eyes had literally been starting to narrow when she first saw him, however, her mind always worked faster than base impulse and assumption.

Rather than be mortified due to her appearance and status, what if he was genuinely embarrassed at intruding within the personal chambers of pretty woman? One prided to be the most beautiful in all the land, and just seeing her was enough to take his breath away and make him anxious?

A trace of momentary satisfaction arose within her at that prospect.

Still, either option to consider was viable.

Given her current inability to decide between the two options when she had first seen him enter her room, her expression had quickly shifted into neutral.

First, she had stopped him from leaving immediately because like it or not, there had to be a consequence for trespassing upon a Noble Lady's private room, and no, it was not because she inwardly found him amusing.

However, this decision had turned into a doubled edged sword.

She had been contemplating how she should deal with Sir Lancelot, but soon fell into a fluster when she had heard her maids approaching and Sir Lancelot standing stupidly still right out in the open.

Her integrity as a woman of nobility had already taken a blow by being declined by a prominent marriage prospect, and now she feared that if it were discovered that an unwed man was found in her room, her honour would be entirely sullied.

She didn't care too much about appearances and reputation herself, but she feared troubling her already exhausted and weary father who was doing his best to allow her and his citizens a free life.

Her mind reacted quickly and forced her body to move by instinct.

She had grabbed Sir Lancelot by the arm and shoved him beneath the covers of her bed sheets and many pillows. Surprisingly, she had hardly felt any resistance from the man, partly because he was definitely stunned with the situation, otherwise there was no way that her scrawny arms would be able to pull such a well-proportioned man so easily.

It was only when he began to sputter out in embarrassment that she muffled his mouth with a spare pillow and elbowed his side just as the door of her room opened. He had probably been misunderstanding her intentions, but there was simply no time to explain.

Sir Lancelot was a Peerless Knight whose natural senses and instinct were far greater than the common man. It was just that those superior senses had been severely dulled in his earlier fluster such that he only regained himself when he heard the distinct sound of the door opening. His body immediately turned rigged like a stiff log that would not move a single inch.

The change nearly had Guinevere's lips curling upwards if not for having to maintain appearances.

"Are you alright Lady Guinevere? We heard a noise in your room?"

A voice cautiously called through the door before three maids entered while nervously clutching onto wooden brooms. They sighed in relief when they noticed that it was just Guinevere by herself.

They were her personal maids named Emma, Marie, and Grace.

Each of them wore a standard black and white maid's gown with the black fabrics over top the white and held in place by black thread. Emma was the tallest of the three, with Marie a close second, and Grace the shortest. All three of them were around Guin's age or slightly older by a couple of years, having been specifically selected by Cywryd to attend to Guinevere because she was an only child.

Cywryd was a rigid yet steadfast man on the outside, but he had always doted on his daughter, only taking in maids closer to Guin's age so that she wouldn't feel stifled by an older presence.

Emma had long brown hair and lightly freckled cheeks that contrasted her hazel-coloured eyes. Her face was on the narrower side compared to Marie's whose face was rounder, but it gave her a sharp sort of look that fit well with the description of 'dutiful.' Grace's face was in between narrow and round, making it more normal if anything. She was also the youngest of the three and the least outspoken. She was of the same age as Guinevere, but generally hid her eyes behind long bangs to not draw attention due to their stunningly blue colour.

All three greatly cared for Guinevere as they had all grown up together.

This was why when they had sensed that something seemed off, they were quick to arrive.

Low and behold, Lady Guinevere's face was entirely red as if she was in a state of agitation or panic.

"I'll call Lord Cywryd immediately to fetch a doctor!" Marie's concern was evident in her tone. Based on Guinevere's complexion, Marie thought that Guinevere might have had gotten sick.

Marie was always one to assume the worst in a situation since she'd rather by safe than sorry.

Neither Emma nor Grace moved to stop Marie, but Guinevere could not allow Marie to do such a thing.

"No! Ugh, I mean wait!" Guin called out in desperation. When Emma and the others faced her however, she suddenly grew quiet.

She had nothing at the top of her mind which she could believably say. Worse, Lancelot was beginning to fidget behind the pile of pillows and bed sheets that she covered him under.

His fidgeting wasn't noticeable at a glance, but Guin was directly leaning on her pile of pillows right now, so she could feel him squirming in panic beneath.

Lancelot had come for Arturia's sake, not to drag her down politically.

It would be a lie to say that Lancelot was not famous in his own right. He was the Peerless Knight of King Arthur. No Knight was said to be his equal, and if such a Knight employed under King Arthur's service was found in the bedsheets of Duke's daughter, the political fallout would be crippling.

"You look frightfully red right now Lady Guinevere. Why are you asking Marie to wait?" Emma questioned in concern. Her arms were crossed in front of her, while Grace moved to place her palm on Guin's forehead.

"She's warm," Grace noted in a meek voice. She wasn't one to talk in the first place.

Of course, I'd be warm! Guinevere inwardly screamed. The embarrassment from the prior situation was causing her blood to rush up to her head.

"It was just a nightmare was all," Guinevere composed herself and spoke calmly.

"A nightmare?" Marie echoed Emma.

"Yes, I had a bad dream while napping," Guinevere nodded her head.

"Shall I fluff your pillows? Its no wonder you won't be able to sleep properly with all of them piled like that." Emma was already moving while she was speaking, but Guin was faster.

"No, I like it like this." She spoke flatly, throwing herself onto her pile of pillows and bedsheets and muffling Lancelot's groan with a hand. After all, Lancelot was buried beneath all the pillows and fabric. "It's quite comfy see? It's fluffy enough that you can even bounce on it. I think that I'll be taking another nap before going for a small stroll later."

Saying that Guinevere bounced up and down a couple times to mask Lancelot's fidgeting beneath the sheets. It was killing two birds with one stone. She was keeping Lancelot hidden while giving him a punishment for intruding into her room and landing them in this situation in the first place.

Lancelot could only endure his treatment.

Grace rose a brow at Guinevere's explanation before narrowing her eyes at the open veranda and the small traces of dirt left on the floor. She kept silent though despite her observation. At the very least, she could share it with Emma and Marie later. Lady Guin was acting too suspiciously.

"If you're certain then," Emma bowed. "We will remain nearby in case you need our assistance."

Hesitating for only a moment longer, Emma, Marie, and Grace soon left, but only Marie had stared intently at the bedsheets before departing.

The door closed, and Guin waited in silence.

One minute.

Two.

Then three.

Lancelot tried to get up, but Guin immediately rebuked him.

Lancelot could only sit up on the bed in a daze after Guin had decided that they had waited long enough. Thereafter, he tried to leave once again.

"I-I have intruded on you for too long," Lancelot was speaking hastily, his face almost entirely red, partly because in between Guin's bouncing, he perceived a soft sensation that he probably shouldn't have. Fortunately, Guin did not notice.

It didn't mean that Lancelot felt any less guilty, more so when he had the odd urge to experience that feeling once again.

No. It was dangerous here.

He had to go before it was too late.

He stiffly made his way back to the veranda, yet was once again stopped.

"You can't leave yet. Emma and the others are still nearby." Guin got up from the bed and began looking out through the windows. "Grace is even out in the yard making sure that there was really no one here." Guinevere whispered heatedly in an exasperated voice. "If you leave now, you'll definitely get spotted. Does my honour and dignity as a Lady mean nothing to you?"

She'd already been rejected once by King Arthur, and didn't want to make it any harder on her father to arrange a suitable marriage.

"…"

Lancelot was a Noble himself so he understood what Guin was getting at and felt entirely helpless.

Guin felt exasperated.

"Look, I can tell that this all seems to be an accident, so at the very least, compose yourself and wait for an opportunity," she chastised. "You're not displaying the attitude of a Knight right now, granted I've never heard of a Knight that would sneak into a woman's room. Congratulations Sir Lancelot, you are undoubtably the first in my eyes."

Guinevere placed a palm over her forehead.

Lancelot could not utter a single rebuttal other than to subconsciously express his shame by moping. This was not how he had envisioned his path to becoming a renowned Knight would play out. The promise he'd made confidently to Lady Vivian upon departing from the Lake to became a Peerless Knight was probably nothing but a joke at this point.

He suddenly shuddered.

Lady Vivian had many means at her disposal that he was unaware of and a thought quickly became apparent to him.

Was she perhaps watching over him even now?

His complexion paled rapidly as he tried to look for anything that had any traces of liquid in the room. His gaze soon stiffened when he stared at a flat pool of water in a basin. The basin of water was what Guin had used to wash her face in the morning, and presently, Lancelot did not miss the way that the water's surface rippled upon him sighting it.

He was going to get skinned alive.

His teeth began to subconsciously chatter.

The one thing that Lady Vivian had heavily ingrained into him was the courtesy one should show to a woman. Trespassing into a virgin's room broke all kinds of taboos that lady Vivian had hammered into him about being a gentleman.

He could literally feel his spirit leaving his body already.

"Are you alright Sir Lancelot?" His condition had deteriorated to the point that even Guin noticed the subtle change.

"I am," for now.

Lancelot's gaze seemed listless, but Guin thought that it was more suitable given the situation. It was better than him running out of her room on an impulse.

She bit down lightly on her thumb's finger nail and began pacing.

The two were literally stuck in a conundrum which was soon made worse.

Both Lancelot and Guinevere could hear the sound of a horn blaring in the wind. A call to arms at the approach of an enemy at Gwent's walls.

To Guin, it just meant that her father was dealing with more invaders, but for Lancelot, it was entirely different. He knew that the King's forces which he led were stationed outside the wall, and it was his duty as a Knight to lead them in the King's absence.

Lancelot's demeanor suddenly shifted, becoming calm and composed.

"I can't stay here," he said firmly. "I must go."

Guinevere was momentarily transfixed but quickly snapped herself out of her reverie.

"Of course, you can't stay here," she readily agreed.

Meanwhile, she was already moving to put on a dress in which she could wear outside. "Look away and don't you dare look this way until I say you can," she said sternly. This time the threat was very real in her voice. She'd yell if she actually caught Lancelot looking.

For his part, Lancelot firmly turned his face away.

From Guin's perspective, she could see parts of his ears reddening at the sound of her sleeping gown hitting the floor as she disrobed and put on an outside dress.

"We have no idea when Marie and the others will end up coming back to check in on me, therefore we have to move fast," she was muttering beneath her breath.

"Turn around and help me for a second," she called out to Lancelot while holding a silver dress pin in between her lips. She was using her hands to fasten the dress behind her back, and she needed Lancelot to take the pin and connect the fabric at her back. She generally had her maids help her, but that wasn't an option right now.

Lancelot was exceedingly shy about the matter, which Guin actually found a tad endearing, but this wasn't the time.

"There, it's on good enough. We still have to hurry and leave."

Lancelot nodded at Guin's words, but didn't exactly know how she was planning on getting him out unseen.

They couldn't take the front door, nor could they take the open veranda which led to the front yard. Therefore, what exactly were they going to do?

"We jump." Guin said simply.

She was thinking out of the box, but one of her windows was placed adjacent to the piles of hay normally fed to the sheep and cattle out in the barn farther away. It was piled around two-to-three feet in height and should be enough to cushion a small fall.

Lancelot stood up and assessed the viability of the plan before agreeing. However, he was still somewhat skeptical.

"Why are you coming?" He ended up asking.

"Are you expecting yourself to run out the front?" Guin replied bluntly. "I know a hidden passage for you to escape from out of the castle. It's too hard for me to describe where it is, so I have no choice but to just show you."

Guin then reached her arms out to Lancelot who stood there confused.

"You can't expect me to jump by myself, now can you? What if I break something?" Guin had been sheltered all her life, and her father's doting did not help her in the slightest.

Still, she had a point. The fall was kind of high for someone who didn't train themselves physically.

Lancelot complied with Guin's request and directly picked her up from beneath the knees with one arm secured behind her back. He failed to notice the blush working its way up Guin's face despite how hard she was trying to force it down. Admittedly, up close, Lancelot was indeed as handsome as the rumours spoke of him.

Guin was wordless while being carried. She feared that her voice would come out in a squeak if she tried. Therefore, to maintain her image, she firmly shut her mouth closed and focused only on Lancelot's chest.

From Lancelot's perspective, it looked like she was glaring.

He directly jumped out the window, landed in the pile of hay, and deposited Guinevere out of his hands lest her glare intensify.

He didn't bother asking what he did to anger her further, simply because he did not know. Besides, it might have had been rude to ask, and if lady Vivian was still watching him, he had to behave with utmost courtesy.

Stabilizing herself on her feet, Guin got right into action. Presently it was hard for her not to blush when she stared at Lancelot's face so she stayed persistently in front of him while leading the way.

Both of them snuck passed a few house maids, and clung tightly to the shadows of the building.

Guin had even thought it prudent to travel inside an empty barrel.

Lancelot didn't comment that it was entirely conspicuous for two barrels to be randomly left on an open field, but he digressed despite his urgency.

He was some too stunned by the beauty he found in Guinevere's smile.

Hard as it was to admit, she was actually starting to have fun. The experience was quite novel for her whose daily routine had become ingrained at this point in her life.

Unbelievable as it was, no one noticed them. This was partly because Emma and Guin's personal maids had heightened security at the front of Guin's personal chambers rather than leave the rest of the house maids dispersed.

The backside which Guin and Lancelot had exited from was entirely empty.

A few more minutes of travelling with a barrel over their heads, and the two soon nearly reached their intended destination.

Guin pulled the barrel off of her self after entering inside a small shed located a far distance away from her residence. Lancelot was quick to follow her example.

Slightly opening the door of the shed, Guin left a wide enough gap for her and Lancelot to see outside.

"Can you see that area between the bushes and the trees?" She pointed with her finger until Lancelot nodded in affirmative. "Part of the fence surrounding my personal residence was damaged there last spring by a wild animal. You can escape from there."

She closed the door of the shed and made sure Lancelot understood where he had to go. It was fairly simple at this point anyway.

And yet, Lancelot wasn't moving.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Guin asked in confusion. "Now's your chance, so go!"

Lancelot was just standing there.

"L-Lady Guin," he kept shifting his weight between his left and right foot. "I truly am sorry for the offence." His guilty conscience was making him apologize before anything else.

Guinevere felt an odd sensation in her chest when she heard the earnesty in Lancelot's voice, but more than anything, she was paying attention to what was happening outside.

"Well, there goes your chance," Guinevere said bluntly before pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing. She was peaking out of a small hole in the shed where a group of house maids suddenly returned to their duties. They were directly in front of where Lancelot had to run through to escape.

Worse, the sounds of conflict outside of Gwent's walls were growing more intense. Both Lancelot and Guin could hear the commotion even from where they were.

Lancelot was still hesitating, but Guin had already resolved herself.

"Can you really afford to wait here any longer Sir Lancelot?" She spoke wryly.

She did not believe that Lancelot was a bed individual. In fact, she had an admiration for all Knights that would pit their lives at stake for the sake of the country.

And that was why, she came to a decision.

"Just go," she urged him kindly.

Lancelot was taken aback.

If he ran out now, then there was no way that he wouldn't be seen.

Guin just shook her head ruefully. At the very least, she had tried to salvage the situation, but what was her image when compared to the danger outside of Gwent.

"What are you hesitating for now?" She directly chastised him, her hands falling down to her waist. "You can't dye black over black, so it's all the same either way. My reputation is already sullied, therefore what does tarnishing it any further count for when compared to aiding the King in saving the country? Besides, the crime went from invading my personal bed chambers, to trespassing onto my private residence."

She wasn't saying it, but there was no way that she could stop the rumours, and more often than not, it was the rumours that truly brought down a woman's reputation.

Lancelot knew this due to the way that lady Vivian had raised him.

Guin was making a sacrifice for him, and it was his fault that the situation had even transpired.

"Lady Guin, even still I-"

"Are you belittling my resolve?"

Lancelot shut his mouth. He could see that Guin would grow enraged if he continued to argue further.

Fine then.

He would meet her resolve with respect.

He directly moved to open the door and escape, but stopped when he heard Guin sigh.

"You'll sully the King's reputation if they recognize you," she said in concern as a reminder.

Lancelot simply nodded, and to Guin's bewilderment, he produced in his hands, the same bucket that she could have had sworn that he had left in her room.

"Y-You can't be serious."

Rather than speaking, or waiting any further, Lancelot firmly placed the bucket over his head, and directly sprinted out.

"Quick, increase the protection around Lady Guinevere's chambers! There's a hooligan running through the fields!"

Guinevere could hear the frantic noise of the house maids screaming outside even from where she was.

What an idiot.

Wouldn't it be worse for him if it was found out that it was really him underneath that bucket?

Guinevere started to smile in earnest. She'd truly met someone interesting today.

Moving on, but Guin decided that she couldn't leave immediately after Lancelot had just run out. It would be too suspicious otherwise, and from the same shed nonetheless.

Five minutes passed, then ten before she finally decided to leave.

Looking outside, there was no one nearby as most of the maids had moved farther away.

It in that moment as she was scouting her surroundings that it suddenly happened.

W-What was going on?

The ground trembled momentarily beneath her feet as her gaze shifted upwards in a daze.

Where was the roof?

The ceiling of her father's audience hall which she could see from a distance was utterly destroyed, trails of dust and debris still sailing up into the air. She really couldn't understand what was happening anymore, but more than that, she was transfixed.

Mottles of faint gold filled the air like glittering jewels.

A deep gold shining with a brilliance beyond simple light.

They were the stars of the night.

Guides, messengers.

Their presence alone could not be ignored.

Even Guinevere could not find it within herself to stop watching until they eventually faded from her view. Her current elevation was a far cry from the castle's making it impossible to see where the stars landed, but she could practically hear all sound cease if just for an instant at their landing.

Even the clamor originating from her father's reception room was deathly silent.

'For whom so ever draws forth this sword from the stone, is the True King of Britain.'

It was said that on the day that the Sword in the Stone was first lifted from its resting ground, the heaven's themselves radiated a profound glow reminiscent to the white feathers of doves over the True King of Britain.

The clouds in the sky seemed to part at the moment Guin recalled the rumours, strands of the sun's ray piercing through the holes and illuminating the land beneath. She felt breathless, a profound lightness within her that she'd never felt before.

Was it elation?

Was it hope?

It was hard to say, but it was clear that something had changed in the order of the world.

A path never before tread, diverging from the parallels.

She couldn't comprehend what she'd just seen nor its significance, but the air and mood in her father's reception hall suddenly shifted first from disbelief and then to silent veneration.

She suddenly wanted to make a personal inquiry, but knew better than to leave the boundaries of her residence after her father had clearly sounded the horns.

She would not allow her curiosity to get the better of her, therefore, she reluctantly decided to return to her personal chambers.

Be well, Sir Lancelot.

She couldn't help but think of him on her way back.

He was a goof in the time that he spent around her, but he was an honest one whom she felt had tried to be exceedingly mindful of her. It was to the point that he'd actually hesitated when deciding between her and helping his King.

It wasn't that he was mortified at her appearance, but because he was truly a morally stiff and upright individual.

Of the two conjectures that she had previously made in her mind from the moment that she had first seen him enter her room, she'd finally decided on which was true verses which was false.

Her lips curled upwards subconsciously, small dimples forming on the edges of her mouth.

The maids that noticed her expression on her way back to her bed chambers momentarily paused in wonder.

Guinevere had always carried the image of a perfect Noble Woman:

Cold yet neutral bearings, graceful, yet refined, back straight, shoulders squared, steps soft and light.

Presently she had none of those things.

Since she had been prioritizing Lancelot's escape, and therefore, she hadn't taken the time to groom herself. Her hair was curled into a mess in a few places, and wrinkles were present all over the dress she that had hurried worn with Lancelot's help. Caught up in her musings, Guin didn't even notice that there was a light skip to her steps.

There was no way that Emma, Marie, and Grace, as Guin's personal maids, could not have had noticed such a change, when they saw her again.

It was especially so when they recalled the hooligan who had just tried to trespass onto Guinevere's private residence.

Judging from the armour that the man had been wearing, the fool was clearly a Knight, and yet to dare trespass into Noble Lady's residence, Emma and the others were furious. However, at the same time, they truly cared for lady Guin and had immediately cut off all forms of communication from Lady Guin's residence to the rest of the castle. The other house maids who must have had seen the incident were being forced into a vow of secrecy to protect Lady Guin's honour.

However, why did it look like Lady Guin had not a care in the world despite such a scandal happening to her?

Emma, Marie, and Grace, were confused, but Guinevere herself failed to notice.

Guin's personal maids however didn't bother asking questions at the moment. Maybe Lady Guin had entered a strange state of shock from the trauma of the failed infiltration?

Emma, Maria, and Grace glanced worriedly at each other, but quickly decided to give Guin some time to herself and moved back to perform their other duties elsewhere.

Guin was naturally left alone to make her way back to her private room inside one of the three houses of her residence.

Her area was secure, and to prevent any incidents or undue rumours about her image as a Noble Lady, men were not stationed to act as guards near her vicinity. Instead, Cywryd had created an elaborate system of bells that any maid or Guin herself could ring in the case of an emergency. Said bells were hidden throughout the residence and any bell rung would pull on the thread of the other bells, ringing all of them at once.

Only Guin, the maids, and a select few were privy to the location and existence of the bells.

The probability of an enemy disarming the system in advance was inconceivable.

Which was why Guin suddenly stiffened like a cat that had seen danger.

There was a group of armed men quickly approaching from beyond the fields of her personal garden. Based on their attire, bearings, and disposition, Guin paled instantly.

Saxons.

Why weren't the alarms being rung?!

She immediately went to a location of one of the bells to ring them herself. However, she paled when she saw that the threads tying the bells together had been cut.

Impossible.

It was the first thought in her mind, followed by a sharp intuition.

Spies.

'Don't be too trusting of those around you. Even in the castle."

Her father had reminded her with this sentence over and over again for almost as long as she could remember.

Yet why were they targeting her residence?

Her eyes suddenly widened in realization.

The commotion outside.

The violence.

The attack.

And finally, the significance of her status as the Daughter of the Lord of Gwent.

She had definite value as a hostage.

Her father cherished her more than anything to the point that he'd held a personal grudge with King Arthur for declining her hand in marriage.

Whatever was happening outside, she could picture her life being leveraged in two ways.

Open the Gates of Gwent.

Or to force her father into action.

Both of which she'd rather die than allow to happen.

Her greatest fear was being a burden to her father who'd worked so hard to raise her and keep his people safe against the Saxon invasion. A close second was losing everyone that she held dear.

Her lips pursed as her muscles tightened.

She had to let the maids escape first.

In terms of status, grace, and importance, the maids didn't hold a single candle when compared to her, however, Emma, Marie, and Grace, had helped raise and take care of her since she was but a child.

To her, they were like family. Sisters from another mother.

"Hurry! Run to the cellars!" She quickly made up her mind and raised her voice. It immediately alerted all of the maids to the incoming danger when they looked in her direction.

Guin didn't just draw the attention of Emma and the other maids, but the approaching Saxons as well who instantly prioritized her.

Emma, Marie, and Grace made to run towards her, but she couldn't allow that to happen.

"GO!" She yelled, directly running in the opposite direction from where Emma and the others were chasing from. "Don't worry about me, I have a plan!" No, she didn't. Not one bit.

"Just alert father!"

It still didn't stop her from yelling out orders.

Emma, Marie, and Grace hesitated.

"Trust me!" Guin called back, and that was all that she could yell out.

She had no more time to make sure that Emma and the others really ran away simply because the Saxons were gaining on her.

She couldn't run in the dress that she was wearing, but she didn't have the strength to tear the many layers of fabric making up the gown either.

Hogwash, this was frustrating.

Whoever invented these dresses and gowns- mind you they looked stunningly good- but that aside, had to have been an impractical idiot.

With nothing better to do, she had no choice but to run while using her hands to lift up the hem of her gown up over her knees.

She was running by instinct, but quickly began to falter when she noticed just where she was running towards.

Dammit, she was heading towards that place.

It was one of the three houses of her residence. The one where Sir Kay and the woman he had brought with him were still resting.

She couldn't go there.

Guin always had a cold neutral expression on her face, but she was far from heartless. She was kind. The kind of woman who would throw away her happiness for the sake of a friend who was pretending to be a man.

She'd saved Sir Kay and his companion, and she would not endanger them again on her honour as a noble.

She quickly turned on her heels and bolted in another direction. However, the action served to slow her down when her dress caught in-between her feet and she directly tripped.

That's it.

It was over.

She'd tried her best, but there was no way that she could outrun her enemies.

A hundred feet.

Fifty.

They were gaining on her rapidly.

She'd rather die than hinder her father or endanger her people.

She pulled out the dress pin that she'd gotten Lancelot to help her hold her dress together and directly pointed the pin at her throat.

Her hands were trembling, her breath coming out in ragged pants.

And that was when the enemy descended upon her.

She closed her eyes, and thrust the needle towards her neck only to realize that someone had caught her forearm.

"NO!" She struggled violently, trying to force her arm out of the enemy's grip, but all she got in return was a steady reply.

"In the name of Lancelot du Lac,"

She stilled at that deep voice.

You fool.

She could feel the tears starting to fall down her cheeks.

You came back.

The Peerless Knight of the Lake.

His figure appeared before her eyes once more as she opened them.

"I will protect you."

He made a promise that Guin would never forget for a life time.