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Gwen looked at Lancelot over the rim of their teacup and sighed. Neither of them had meant to betray Arthur like they had, but they had and she had no idea.
“I don’t want this to stop,” Gwen said. “I want — I want you.”
“But you’re married,” he said, as if they didn’t know that already, “to Arthur. You love Arthur. We were never meant to be, Guinevere.” He placed his tea on the table and stood up. “I should go. I should leave Camelot. You chose Arthur, not me. I cannot let this betrayal continue.”
“Don’t go, Lancelot,” they pleaded, but he had already gone. They drank the last of their tea and left the room to find him. “Please, Lancelot, we can talk to Arthur about this. You don’t have to leave.”
“Talk to Arthur about this?” Lancelot repeated before he shook his head. “If she were to find out what we’ve done, we couldn’t be here anymore. And that’s assuming she won’t have us executed.”
Gwen entwined their fingers together. “We love each other, Lancelot, and we both love Arthur. And I know she loves you too; we’ve spoken of it.”
“You have?” he asked but shook his head again before they could answer. “Even if she does, she would still hardly allow this.”
But he didn’t let go and they made their way to the chambers Gwen shared with Arthur. The next day, there was a marked difference in their interactions with each other and all three seemed far happier than they had been.