chapter forty-two!
042. another sunrise

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    ODETTE DID not sleep as well as she wished she could have. Even in Guinevere's bed, she stared up at the wall and imagined things through the cracks. She couldn't stop thinking about him▬she couldn't stop thinking about the feeling; the way he made her feel, even just by the brush of his fingertips to draw her closer ... and she let him, she whispered his name and she closed her eyes, desperate to relive that moment in his chambers again and again until it was a prayer she uttered upon her lips, knowing that those moments would never happen again. But in her mind and in her dreams, they lived on▬and it was something strange and something beautiful; something so whimsical and mythical. It was a fairytale that should never happen again, and so it made her breathless and light▬and yet filled with such sadness at the same time.

    She supposed that was what made it so enthralling and so wonderful▬a burn at the touch, her breathless desperation ... because it was something so forbidden and tragic that it made the feeling so undeniably alluring and magical; knowing that once the sun rose again and the Tournament was over, they would go back to never speaking to each other ... once again.

    Odette watched the sun rise through the cracks of the wooden walls and she rubbed her eyes. Slowly, she glanced over to the curtains draped by the screen and felt as if she could see where he slept perfectly.

    She didn't know what today will bring before their story will end. There was an assassin somewhere within the depths of Camelot, a Tournament to win to finally prove himself worthy without the respect of his title▬another goodbye that was sure to hurt Odette far more than every other goodbye had before.

    But she supposed she was used to it, by now ...

    Her gaze wandered back to the rising sun that started to shine underneath the doors where her shawl still hung▬old and fraying; not at all beautiful like many other girls'. She pursed her lips; she frowned ... she hesitated, but then▬all of a sudden▬she didn't. Odette got up early that morning, unable to sleep and decided to live her fairytale ... even if it was just for a day.

    It didn't take long to make. It was fraying, and it was jagged at the seams▬ripped easily from her years-old shawl. But she still fiddled with it, she still wrapped it around and around her hands and then unwrapped it. Odette held it gently and brushed her fingers along the white cloth, nervous and yet mesmerised by the thought of what she was doing.

    As the sun continued to rise, Arthur woke up and they got ready in a tense silence. Much like every other day▬and yet this time, they spared glances at each other. Arthur sent her little, anxious smiles and she replied with rosy cheeks and pursed lips. She fiddled with the piece of her shawl, awkwardly standing in Gwen's home▬she glanced around it and instead of feeling an envious bitterness to be within it, Odette started to realise she was going to miss the feeling of a roof over her head, of a table to eat at, a home to return to ... she realised that most of all, she was going to miss having Arthur at the other end of that table.

    Odette fixed her mother's hair clip a little from where it pinned back her golden waves. In a rigid silence, she watched Arthur tie his cloak over his shoulders in front of her, shuffling her feet underneath her skirts that were of a gentle colour▬faded blue like a summer sky.

     She breathed deeply, quietly, with her lips pressed together and the cloth wrapped around her hand▬she untied it, and then tied it again; over and over her palm, under and over, around and around and around▬

    There was little said between them, but the air was sombre▬it was sad, very sad. Odette didn't know how she could miss someone she knew she saw every day. How she will see him in the castle corridors, pour him wine at the table during dinner with his father and Morgana, or pass him by the markets ... and feel as if she was dragged away▬oceans and oceans apart.

    But she will. Odette will continue to miss him with dreadful pain in her chest where her heart fluttered at each little smile he hid, each time he stood up for what he believed in and each time he always made it back home safe. She will see her Prince as she always has, but Odette will miss the Arthur she truly got to know again here.

    Because outside that door, no matter what, he was Prince Arthur ... and she was nobody. A forgotten spec of dust on a forgotten desk within a forgotten chamber ... and she always will be.

    And it was sad.

    For once, Odette wanted it to be different.

    Arthur finished tying the cloak and settled his shoulders. He nodded at her. "One more match ... the Tournament will be over."

    She breathed a little smile▬forced a slight chuckle through her lips. But she looked down at her fingers and her brows knitted, doing her very best to hide the lump in her throat. "You can go back to being Prince Arthur..." her joke ran dry. Arthur's face started to fall▬and Odette knew he was going to miss the comfort and safety ... the intimacy of Gwen's home as much as she will. Going to miss her.

    The sun was growing brighter through the open window beside them, and it started to shine down on Odette. It turned her hair the brilliant golden gaze of dawn as she looked down at the favour she created once more. She continued to fiddle with it. "Um..."

    She took a deep breath. She nodded to herself. She unwrapped it a final time and stepped closer to Arthur▬her slippers inches from his leather boots. He watched her, his eyes never once leaving the glow the sun gifted upon her▬as if she was very much its steam of light through every crack and every window. She was the light; the hope ... the only hope that gave Arthur his own.

    "I thought ..." murmured Odette, her voice dry with nerves. Her heart pounded through her chest. "Well ... I was wondering that perhaps▬maybe▬possibly ... you might wear this?" she held up her favour for him to take, careful as she glanced from the corner of her eye to await his response. "Um▬you know▬for ... for luck."

    Arthur's brows knitted together for a moment. Odette's own lifted in horror at the sight of it▬she knew this was a bad idea. She knew she shouldn't have done it▬she knew he would never want it.

    "Um▬sorry," Odette quickly said, shaking her head. She started to take her hand away and shuffle backwards. "Sorry▬I do not know what I was thinking, of course, you would not▬obviously I did not expect you to▬"

     "Hey, no▬" Arthur cut her off, reaching out to take her favour, but instead took her head instead. Her words became a breathless hitch▬her heart skipped a beat to see his fingers completely envelop her own. His thumb brushed along her knuckles as he slowly took the fabric from her hold, and he met her gaze to give her a reassuring smile▬so little and so hesitant ... but from hi, it was sweet, and it was caring, and it was rare▬meant for only one person: only just ever for Odette.

    Arthur held the piece of her shawl, so tender and ginger ... and she didn't know why that meant so much to her, but it did. "For me to return," he said softly, remembering those sweet moments that seemed so long ago now, where their promises were exchanged through gifts they had to return, along with their life.

    Odette's next words were breathless. "Or ... or for you to keep?"

    The Prince met her gaze. They stayed locked in it for a lingering moment▬Odette blushed when she saw his brows lift in a gentle realisation. Arthur smiled at her again. "Thank you," he said to her.

    Odette nodded, a little at a loss for words. She didn't look away from him. She felt the warmth of the sunrise on her cheeks▬she saw it reflect in his eyes ... he did not stop his staring gaze, and she couldn't stop watching it▬watching him. Even when his stare made her want to shuffle her feet and play with her tunic skirt, she kept herself locked within it.

    Perhaps it was her little smile. Perhaps it was the way her lips pursed. Perhaps it was the colour of her dress or the amber of her eyes. Perhaps it was the favour she made from her own shall or the way she looked up at him. Perhaps it was their days spent or the way she laughed at last night's dinner. Maybe it was the way she stood her ground and spoke wise words she didn't even realise were painstakingly true. It could be the way she infuriated him and yet made Arthur Pendragon yearn to know she was okay at the same time. How she. made him list within her eyes and her words and her little nods and the little faces she pulled. Perhaps it was just her ... and how stunning Odette Mason beamed underneath the sunrise she always searched for▬how it honoured her and swelled around her ... became a part of her and made her so gorgeous, and so beautiful ... Another sunrise, he remembered the words he spoke to her ...

    And he knew that even if he had thought about it. Even if he had rationalised it and told himself it wasn't the right thing to do; that making the same mistake twice will never end well▬Arthur would have done the same each and every time:

    He bent down and he kissed her.

    He kissed her just as the sun streamed through the curtains of Guinevere's window▬and they were basked in it; they were surrounded by its warmth and its hope. It was an omen, or maybe a sign of something if one listened to prayers and preached upon their knees ... but they did not notice it▬they did not care ... or maybe they did, deep down. For if the sunrise breached its path right at this moment ... then someone out there told a legend where it was meant to be.

    Odette was a little shocked. She felt his lips against hers▬pressed strong and firm as if desperate to remember this forever. Very much the same as before, and yet so different; they were emotional in such a way that made her slump towards him. That made her eyes close and her hands settle on his chest to just feel how warm he was. To tilt her head at the feel of his fingers running past her cheek until they cradled her closer▬and the Prince of Camelot held the caste's maid, lost within the shadows until she felt very much seen ... and while they could not be more different, here, they were the same.

    And she wanted to remember it, too. She wanted to remember every breath he took from her and every breath she sighed out, holding on to his kiss for as long as she possibly could.

    When Arthur pulled away, Odette was lost in a haze. She gazed upwards through hooded eyes, not quite sure how she was supposed to breathe ever again and found him looking the same. Mesmerised by her▬enamoured by her beauty ... a delicate swan drifting on a forgotten lake.

     He found himself tracing the line of her cheek, following the fall of her golden hair▬and found it absurd in a wonderful way.

     His Odette, he thought with a soft-hearted breath. His dearest Odette.

    And then something dropped▬a horrible understanding ... a devastating realisation of what he had just done ... again.

    Arthur stepped back. His hand fell away and Odette's eyes widened. The moment shattered between them like broken glass at their feet. Meeting each other's gazes, not one could say a single word.

    The Prince swallowed harshly and fixed his cloak. The young handmaiden watched him step away from her, nodding and clearing his throat. "I should▬I must get on."

    He left▬throwing the hood of his cloak over his head and disappearing outside the closed door ... leaving Odette there with a heavy heart.

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    GUINEVERE could tell there was something on Odette's mind as they sat together for the final day of the Jousting Tournament. Her friend was unusually quiet and held little to no excitement for the showdown between Sir William (or Arthur) and Sir Alynor. She sat on the edge of her seat, but the breath she held was one of another type▬one that held a painful anxiety, and yet a hitched sadness, and she didn't know which one she should feel more ... or hurt more.

    Gwen hesitated. She glanced briefly at Gaius before leaning in close and whispering to her. "Are you all right?"

    Odette stiffened. She didn't move her gaze away from the Prince's tent. "I am fine," she said, though her voice was very small and tense.

    Perhaps she was worried about the assassin, or perhaps she was just worried for Arthur's health in the joust▬or anxious to see him win. Perhaps it was something else ... Guinevere held the feeling that it was. She knew Odette very well. She had found herself taking her in, alone and struggling, like a younger sister she never had▬she looked after her and cared for her as she used to towards her younger brother. Becoming the mother in her home after her own mother died▬a mother to everyone else except herself. But it meant that Guinevere had this understanding that while Odette was strangely good at hiding it, something has changed between her and the Prince.

    "He will be all right," she decided to say, vague but understanding▬and Odette could take her concern any way she wished.

    Without telling them to, Guinevere's eyes wandered over towards the centre of the stand where she saw Ronyn sitting and watching, as well. While the sunrise was Odette's comfort, it seemed that the sun brought nothing except painful reminders for Gwen▬and made her beg for the night to come.

    When Arthur led his gelding out onto the field, Odette sat up straighter. Her eyes were fixed on him and Sir Alynor who took a stance on opposite ends. She applauded with the crowd, but her heart pounded at a different pace. Then, Arthur did something▬he turned his horse around, almost as if he, for a moment, lost control. Odette knew better, especially when she caught the glance of something tied around his arm. Her heart swelled when she saw the white of her favour. He had worn it▬he kept it. And it was a promise that her gift of luck will make him succeed; that their fairytale, however fleeting, will thrive under this sunrise▬where no one knew their secrets except themselves. No one knew that the eyes he searched for in the crowd as fixed his geldings stance once again, was the young handmaiden seemingly forgotten in the very midst of it.

    The Prince wrung his grip on his lance, staring down his opponent with ambitious malice. The cheers and applause grew louder when the servant grabbed the red and scarlet flag▬and he flung it up.

    Odette felt as though she could hear the pounding hooves of Arthur's horse deep in her bones▬jarring them with each surge of speed and each galloping force he made towards Sir Alynor who matched it just the same. They charged each other, their lances raised high▬closer and closer and closer▬

    Arthur lifted his lance and twisted it inwards as he grew close to his target. She watched him lean forward, prepared to make a shattering blow▬

    Until, in a split second, he did not.

    Something caught him by surprise▬and it was enough to make him falter. His lance dropped and Sir Alynor rammed the tip of his lance so hard against Arthur's shoulder, he flung backwards.

    Odette's heart jolted▬jarring and horrified; she was on her feet before she could stop herself, her eyes widening with a silent cry of his name. He managed to pull himself up by the reins of his horse▬but he doubled over. His hand clutched where the lance had struck, and Odette's brows lifted. The cheers were a ringing, muffled noise in her ears; the only thing she heard was the thundering pace of her own heart, getting faster and faster when she realised that Arthur had been injured▬bad.

    No one ran to his aid. No one rushed to stop his horse. He had to struggle to pull his gelding to a stop, in such pain that he didn't have the strength to do it.

    Odette didn't think.

    She grabbed her skirts and pushed her way out of the stands. Guinevere and Gaius watched her go, startled, but she did not pay them any attention. She did not care about the estranged looks and murmurs as some servant none of them knew forced her way out onto the field and ran▬sprinted▬to Sir William of Deira. None of them knew that she ran to her Prince, so lost up in her worry and horror to even care what anyone thought.

    Odette faced the raging gelding, reaching up and grabbing his reins as well▬helping Arthur pull him to a stop; small in comparison ... one wayward kick would knock her right over. She did not think about that.

    As soon as he could get off his saddle, he nearly collapsed. Odette heaved him up, struggling under the weight of his armour and chainmail, but she held him▬with one arm slung over her shoulder and her own gripping his waist, Arthur managed to keep himself standing as she led him into his tent.

    He tugged off his helmet and winced, breathing heavily with his hair drenched. They passed Willaim without even a glance, heading straight for the chair. Arthur held onto Odette tight, the pain searing where the lance had struck. Blood stained his chainmail.

    "His lance▬" he said, breathless to Odette as she helped him sit down, "▬pierced my armour."

     She hovered by the wound, her fingers shaking. Odette felt William's shadow loom over them, startled and concerned. She shook her head and grabbed the favour she had made for him, pressing it quickly up against where the lance had pierced and her stomach twisted the moment she heard Arthur's painful grunt through gritted teeth.

    Odette's throat tightened when she felt the blood seep through the cloth as if it were nothing. "You▬you are losing too much blood," she cried out softly.

    He took a sharp, stubborn breath through his nose. "Do what you can," he told her. "I have to be back on the course in five minutes or I forfeit the match."

    "Forfeit!" Odette replied, shocked he would even suggest otherwise. She bundled up the cloth to try and put as much pressure as she could; her own fingers were starting to stain. "You cannot possibly joust, Arthur! You are too badly injured▬!"

     She wanted to hit him at the way he burst out into a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "I have never withdrawn from a match. I do not intend to start now."

     "Arthur!" she didn't mean to snap, but his words sounded ridiculous▬how could he put his pride before his own health? Would he rather die than feel a breath of embarrassment under someone else's name? He certainly meant more than that▬he certainly meant more than any pride or any shame to her.

     He met her gaze, flustered with pain and urgency▬but he managed to take a moment to breathe when he saw the frantic look she held. She took a breath, herself. Softer, she murmured to him: "There will be other tournaments to win." When he sighed and shook his head again, Odette grew distressed. "You would risk your life to protect your pride?" she asked him. "Arthur, you have nothing to prove▬least of all to me."

    At those words, he stopped. He watched Odette fret, her brows furrowed but her eyes filled with concern▬but her words meant true. Arthur sighed and he managed a slight smile through his pain. His hand lifted to her arm, gently holding it as his chest grew warm with a touching endearment he always seemed to have for her▬no matter what.

    "I know," he said and her frown lifted. "But I still have everything to prove, Odette ... to myself."

    She understood. She wished she did not, but she did. And she respected him for it▬she respected him enough to let him do this. And even felt a breath of admiration. This wasn't just his pride▬he needed to make sure he could be the best soldier for his people; he wanted to make sure they had every reason to respect him. He wanted to be sure he could give them that.

    She had nothing to give him to make sure he'd return it. Her favour was bloody and ruined, but Odette could whisper: "Promise me."

    She didn't need to tell him what he had to promise. He knew. Arthur nodded. "I promise," and his words gave her a breath of reassurance. He then squeezed her arm and nodded to William standing beside them. Odette knew she had to step back and she watched, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek with worry as Arthur pulled his helmet back onto his head. He pushed down the visor.

    She helped him stand back up, but he was determined to make his way to his horse on his own. There was a brief moment where Odette did not follow, and she found William's gaze in the tent. He arched a brow and she flushed, not saying a word before she rushed out after the Prince.

    Odette had to help him back up onto his horse. She was at his side until he gripped the saddle and she watched, her chest caving in with worry when she heard his pained grunt as he pulled himself onto the gelding's back. He hunched over for a moment, breathing heavily through his visor. Nearby, the crowd was growing restless as they waited. 

    After a second, Arthur heaved another deep breath and gestured▬a little dazed in his pain▬over her shoulder. "You ... you will have to pass me my lance..."

    Odette pursed her lips but did as he said, grabbing one of his many lances and rising up on her toes to pass it over to him. "Arthur..." she murmured, her words heavy as he took it, struggling to hold himself up straight. 

    "I'll see you once this is over," he promised her▬his voice muffled and strained. But she could not even try to stop him as he tugged the gelding's reins and started to trot back towards the field. She tried very hard not to notice how his body dangerously swayed. 

    She followed him as far as she could, stopping just by the edge of the tents▬Odette's heart was pounding with a fear she could not describe. 

    She has watched him go far too many times before this. She has watched him through the castle windows, over the edge of the barracks and from the courtyard as he rode off to battle, to fight in some dangerous duel or to complete some quest or save them from something that threatened them outside the city walls▬scared to think he might not return home.

    Odette supposed that it was different this time. 

     And she couldn't fully explain why that is, either.

     "Odette!"

     Merlin's voice made her spin around, her breath hitching at his urgency▬he ran to her, flushed and distressed. "Odette!" he exclaimed once more. "Where is Arthur?!"

    She pointed, unsure, towards the field. "He▬he is about to joust, why?"

    Colour fell from Merlin's cheeks. "He is jousting against the assassin."

    Odette's heart dropped to her stomach, frozen for a moment as Merlin took off at a run again. She quickly picked up her skirts and forced herself to sprint to catch up with him, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm. 

    The two servants raced to the field, not too sure how they were going to stop the joust▬and stop it in time. Odette almost lost Merlin in the crowd, gasping and trying to push through the shoulders of peasants that huddled right at the jousting fence. They frowned and grumbled at her, not happy at the way she shoved her way between them, rising up on her toes to see what was happening▬and where Merlin had gone. 

    Right beside her, Arthur and the assassin readied their geldings at either end of the field. Their horses kicked the ground and threw their heads as if they knew something wasn't quite right. The crowd was roaring their approval at Sir William of Deira's return, but their cheers were muffled in Odette's ears like a distant bell ringing. 

    She apologised and forced her way to where Merlin had disappeared, hearing the horns blare above. Odette breathed heavily, distressed and frantic▬ "Excuse me, excuse me▬" she continued to force her way through the sea of spectators, knowing they were running out of time. 

    The flag was drawn. Sir Alynor▬the assassin▬gripped his reins as his horse threw himself up, rearing back with a cry. He surged onwards at a deafening gallop and Arthur forced himself to follow▬his grip on both his lance and his reins trembling as he desperately tried to stay on his saddle. He was slow and he was sluggish▬he was a step behind. 

    He heaved his lance up in line with his wounded shoulder and raced onwards.

    Odette didn't know where Merlin had gone. She made it to the very front of the crowd, holding onto the fence with a vicious grip. She watched the two of them charge each other, and her vision tunnelled to the moment they would intercept. 

    She noticed Arthur slip▬his grip started to fall. Her breath hitched painfully and Odette shook her head, any words she wanted to scream were lost in the back of her throat. 

    The assassin hefted up his weapon, too▬and the iron fist at its very edge glinted menacingly in the light; and in a split-second, Odette thought she saw something eject out of the very tip: a sharp, pointed spearhead. 

    Odette was on the edge of her toes, slamming her hand helplessly against the barrier in hopes somehow, Arthur would notice. But the Prince was starting to slip off into a daze▬his grip slacked. 

    The assassin aimed his deadly blow▬

    His girth snapped.

    It splintered▬it shattered; it broke with so much force, it flung him off balance. He hung on, desperately, from the side of his saddle and the gasps from the crowd jolted Arthur into focus. He froze in his shock at such luck▬but he did not waste another second. 

    The Prince lifted his lance again and slammed it into the assassin's shoulder▬so hard and so brutally, he was thrown off his horse. He rolled backwards and spun to the earth, landing down on the ground with a sickening crack▬

    Odette hunched up and turned away, knowing by the crowd's gasps and roars that he had landed on the worst place possible: his neck.

    People were on their feet in horror. Even the King was shocked at the sight. Odette courageously faced the field and held her bile to see the assassin lying there▬his head bent inwards and under his chest. 

    She had to look away again, her gaze lifting to focus on Arthur who pulled his gelding to a stop▬he veered the horse back around, staring at his opponent with a slump of his shoulders. 

    But that was the game▬that was jousting; no matter whether his opponent was his assassin or not.

    Applause soon followed▬deafening and echoing; the crowd stamped their feet and threw their hands up, cheering the victory of their Prince▬whom they did not even know had been the one to win. 

    Odette took a deep breath and sighed it out, slumping in relief. 

    She quickly ran back towards the tents as Arthur struggled in the same direction. She met him there after he had dismounted, her heart racing with an entirely new rhythm the moment she ducked inside. Before Merlin would arrive, too, and see, the young maid rushed forward▬Arthur did not even see until he noticed William nodding at something behind him.

    He glanced around just as Odette threw her arms around him▬hugging him as tight as she dared and pressing her cheek up against the cold iron of his armour. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, keeping him steady as she felt him lean against the table, wincing in pain. 

    But even so, he found a small smile tug at his lips. Even if she did not see it, Odette felt the warmth of his embrace▬his free arm wrapped around her shoulders and held her close, his gloved fingers squeezing gently. 

    Arthur's eyes lifted up to the farmer who stood, trying hard not to watch. But the exchange they shared assured him that Willaim would keep this secret▬and he nodded at him, grateful before turning his head back to the young handmaiden in his arms and finally relaxed. 

    She had to let go before Merlin would arrive▬and for sure the others, too. But even if the moment was fleeting, both of them were going to treasure it. Odette tended to his wound once again as he sat back down when the others arrived. Merlin, Ronyn and Guinevere all held solemn looks.

    Arthur nodded at Odette and held the cloth against his wound, telling her it was all right. She stood back and stepped in line next to Merlin, fiddling with her fingers▬but shyly meeting his gaze all the same when the others did not see.

    At last, Merlin explained. "You were jousting against the assassin. He killed Sir Alynor and took his place."

    Arthur frowned at his servant but then sighed out an exhausted breath. He hung his head for a moment before lifting his gaze once more to the simple farmer standing alone in his armour. 

    Ronyn watched the exchange curiously. He gestured to the restless crowd outside. "Your people are waiting for their champion, Sire." He frowned at Arthur's troubled look. "It is time to reveal yourself..."

    The Prince considered his friend's words for a moment until he nodded at William. "You must go and collect the trophy."

    The farmer's eyes widened. The others glanced over, shocked. William did not know what to say, realising with a hitched breath that the Prince meant for him not to return the prize▬but to keep the gold and the rewards for himself. 

    Gwen furrowed her brows, quite perplexed▬but pleasantly surprised. "I ... I thought this was to be your moment of glory?"

    He met her gaze for a brief second. Then, it travelled over to where Odette watched on, quiet and gentle. He answered Guinevere's question, but his words were only ever truly meant for the Lady Morgana's second handmaiden standing in the shadows. "Perhaps ... Perhaps this is a time for humility."

    And no trophy nor gold could amount to the little proud smile Odette sent him before shyly looking down at her feet. 

    Arthur nodded to William, and the farmer's eyes were bright with gratitude he could not express as he pulled down his helmet and stepped out into the light. 

    They turned back to the Prince, each with their own surprised▬and yet impressed▬glances. A slight grin tugged at Merlin's lips. Guinevere tilted her head, soft but intrigued. Ronyn nodded at his friend, that gleam in his eyes that made Arthur wonder whether his close friend believed he would make this decision all along. And finally, sweet Odette, who took a soft breath through her nose when they heard the crowd go wild outside. Her pride was something unmatched▬a glowing sunrise with a promise of a new day; the fresh breath of spring. 

     And Arthur felt his heart sink the moment he understood that with a new sunrise came the farewell of the one before▬the one that had been theirs, just for a moment. 

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     ARTHUR was back to being Prince Arthur the next morning, returning to Court with his wound bandaged and a growing pain in his shoulder that would last a week. His father had no clue that it was he who had competed in the tournament instead of hunting down the estranged animal he had made up off the top of his head▬and it was good for it to stay that way. 

    It was wise that nothing of which transpired the past few days was to ever reach his father's ears. 

    "The assassin attacked us as we returned to Camelot," Arthur was saying, standing before his father and the rest of the Court. Uther Pendragon had a worry line etched on his heavy brow as he glowered at the wound his son had suffered. Beside the King, the Lady Morgana sat, quiet but relieved by Arthur's return. "I was injured whilst killing him."

    Odette watched on from her mistress's side, standing back and behind with this bitter taste on her tongue. Every time she swallowed, it hurt▬as if she was eating thorns. Arthur could not glance her way, even if he wanted to. 

    The King clenched his gloved fist at his chin, grinding his teeth in a breath of fury. "Odin must be made to pay for his actions," he decided. He leant forward. "We must strike back at him."

    But Arthur just shook his head. His father and other members of the Court glanced at him, surprised. The Prince took a deep breath, forcing down the wince he made. In a gentle tone, he said to his father: "Surely you must understand the grief he feels for the loss of his son? We ... We should try to make peace with him, not incite a war. There has been enough bloodshed."

    Uther's anger lifted with a breath of confusion at his son's words▬he wasn't expecting such a diplomatic response, and it made him consider it. There was one thing about King Uther Pendragon that no one could fault: is that the voice of peace his son preached, had been something he inherited (and remembered) from his own father. Uther did not want the devastation of war, no matter his temper. 

    Odette fiddled with her fingers, fighting the warmth that spread through her chest amongst the pained thorns. A breath of pride when she looked up and this time, did find Arthur glancing her way▬even if it was brief. 

    She managed a little smile, hoping that if he saw it, he understood what it meant. 

    (Prince Arthur was starting to grow into the King he always wanted to be). 

    "Perhaps you are right," murmured the King. He sighed and leaned back in his throne. "And how was the rest of your trip, then? Fruitful, I hope?"

    Arthur nodded. Biting back a knowing smile, he decided to say: "Very." He watched Odette again for a moment longer than the last, and Guinevere subtly glanced over, noticing the drift of his gaze. "I learned a great deal."

    She replied with another small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. The Prince frowned to himself and quickly set his jaw. "I▬" he cleared his throat softly. "How was the Tournament?"

    "Excellent," said his father, sharing a glance with Morgana who smiled slightly. There was mischief in the King's tone as he told his son about his rising competition. "We have a ... a new champion: Sir William of Deira."

    Beside Gaius, Merlin had to stifle his chuckles. It came out more like the sound a donkey made if it inhaled mud instead of water. Arthur sent his servant a subtle scowl, but even he breathed a chuckle▬easily disguised as his surprise, but the little few understood; and that was enough. 

    Arthur tried very hard not to laugh, scoffing his chuckles down into an amused smile. "I▬I am sorry I missed all the excitement!" he exclaimed and caught Ronyn looking up at the ceiling, biting down hard on his urge to laugh.  "It seems as though I will have a worthy opponent for next year."

    Odette looked down at her slippers, scratching her nose as she hid her own amusement. She didn't notice Arthur had caught sight of her again and she met his gaze, finding the playful glint alongside his smile▬finding no one else he wanted to share this inside joke with other than her. 

    But when her smile was even more forced than the last time, Arthur's own began to fall. He watched her look away, her brows knitting together and her chest rising with a sharp and upset breath. 

    His amusement turned into a pained ache in his throat where his heart had risen, squeezing in a way he did not know how to describe. He just knew it hurt him more than the wound on his chest. 

    Once the Court had been adjourned, Arthur followed his father out into the hallways. But before he could go too far, he stopped and glanced back. He noticed Odette leave, too, turning her back to him and slowly starting after Morgana and Guinevere further down the corridor. 

    Arthur glanced at how far his father had gone▬and when he noticed he had turned the corner, he took a quick breath and called out softly: "Odette..."

    She turned around. Unlike every other extravagant lady that had left with their husbands and families in bright, rich silks, Odette was snug in a pale burgundy made of russet. Her white overdress was already dirty from a morning spent in the kitchens. Her bodice was darker in colour but etched with a delicate stitch that Guinevere must have done herself. She was a plain ugly duckling under every other eye, but Arthur thought her as beautiful as a swan. 

    Odette approached him, careful and hesitant. Once she was close enough, she asked quietly: "Yes, My Lord?"

    They were alone in the corridor, and yet the way she addressed him told Arthur that she understood what must happen▬and yet, he wished she did not.

    He cleared his throat as he took a step closer to her and forgot what he was going to say when she glanced up at him, gentle and patient. Arthur took a deep breath. "I ..." He set his jaw and nodded, forcing himself to get the words that he must say out of him, even if he did not wish them to. "What happened while I was staying with you ... I am afraid my father would never understand."

    Odette nodded. She went back to fiddling with her fingers. She briefly glanced down at them before meeting his gaze once again. "I understand, Arthur," she assured him in a soft voice. "I know how things must be▬and why they need to stay that way."

    Arthur couldn't hide the stale disappointment on his tongue. He didn't know what he wished for her to say ... and yet, it hadn't been that. Perhaps because all Odette ever seemed to do was promise hope, and yet, right now, when deep down he asked for it, she did not give any. 

    His eyes wandered over to the sun that glared through the castle window; streaming down into the corridor with a summer warmth. Arthur spoke before he could even consider what he was going to say: "Perhaps ..." he turned back to Odette and her brows lifted, listening. "I suppose that there is a chance that ... Those ways do not have to stay as such forever."

    Odette's soft attention knitted into one of confusion. "What do you mean?"

    Arthur swallowed harshly, nervous at the words he spoke▬not because they were untrue, but because he realised he meant them. "When I am King," he said to her, sure this time, "I can change it. And then, there will be another sunrise. For both of us."

    He expected her to smile. He expected her to understand what his promise meant and for her eyes to light up with that sweet happiness. He wanted to see it.

    Instead, with a sad breath, Odette shook her head. Something fell in Arthur's chest as he watched▬he wasn't sure whether it was shock, disappointment, hurt or even a breath of frustrated anger. Either way, it consumed him the moment Odette tilted her head at him with a sad and pained acceptance. 

    "Kings marry Princesses," said Odette after a sombre moment. "Princesses who are kind, caring, and beautiful▬who have armies and land and whose fathers can promise large dowries. Great Kings do not wait for lowly servants with nothing to give except what is in their hands." She held her own up to show him. "And in my hands, I have less than nothing to give to you, My Lord."

    "You told me that a King should respect his people, no matter who they are."

    "Yes," Odette agreed sadly. "His people, his subjects ... That is who I am, Arthur. That is all I am..."

    He shook his head at her in disbelief. Arthur couldn't help but scoff. "You cannot stop speaking of your damned sunrise and now, all of a sudden, you have abandoned it? Do you not wish for more?"

    "It does not matter what I wish," the young handmaiden hung her head and the Prince set his jaw, his shoulders falling. "It does not matter what either of us wish. What matters is that we had our sunrise ... and now that sunrise is over."

    Arthur took a stubborn breath through his nose. "Then I will declare war on the setting sun." Her gaze softened amongst her sadness, startled by his promise as if she finally understood that he truly meant it. It scared him how much he realised that he did, too ... but he did not let it make him run away. "I will fight every setting sun if I must, Odette▬and there will be many. Just ... consider it. Once you have considered it and have your answer, come find me. I promise you, I will wait."

    Before she could say anything else, a voice echoed down the hallway. 

    "Arthur?"

    The Prince glanced over his shoulder at the sound of his father. He turned back to the young handmaiden standing before him and knew that for now, their sunrise had set. But if Odette was not prepared to hope for another, Arthur supposed it was up to him to do so instead. 

    He bowed his head and her brows turned gentle. Turning on his heel, he slowly made his way down the hallway to catch up with his father, but he could not stop himself from glancing back▬and he caught her gaze as she slowly turned, too ... 

     Arthur did not know what the future would bring. Neither did Odette, even if they were just as sure as the other that they did. Destiny was a troublesome, tricky little thing▬but whatever it was, none could guess it, nor choose it; none could battle it and none, not one, could ever escape it. 

     (And what a tragic one it might turn out to be). 

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    a/n: anthony bridgerton step aside arthur's gonna declare war on gravity and a burning star for odette. 

    he's such a simp. 

    all jokes aside the way they just switched roles is so important. odette always gives arthur hope, and now, he promises hope for her and this becomes so important for her development.

    can i just say that arthur literally tells her he will not leave and he will wait while lancelot told odette he has no choice but to leave. even when odette tries to accept the way things are and step back arthur is like yeah no. dude knows how to fight and he ain't giving up any time soon.

     also arthur is one of those people who makes the 'my' endearment nicknames. this fandom slept on how he called guinevere 'my love' and 'my guinevere' and I WISH I HEARD HIM SAY IT FOR MORE THAN JUST ONE EPISODE- 

    get ready for the 'my odette' and 'my dearest odette' and 'my sweet odette' and every other endearing thing he can call her after 'my' and before 'odette' because they are all walking poetry. 

     fuk i love odette and arthur way too much for it to be healthy. 

    also shit starts to hit the fan next chapter.