Read Online The Future King: Logres by M. L. Mackworth-Praed - Free Book Online Page B

Emily’s greeting was almost as ecstatic as
Bedivere’s, but weaker in the hug department. Soon she too was shouting at her.
    ‘Gwen! I’ve been looking for you all
over !’ Her hands latched tightly onto her shoulders. ‘Where have you been?’
    ‘Looking for Hattie! Have you seen her?’
    Emily shook her head.
    ‘Charlotte just told me to go find her. She said she was upset about
something?’
    ‘Upset?’ Emily repeated.
    ‘Yeah, and that I could find her in the downstairs loo?’
    ‘Gwen, there isn’t a loo downstairs!’ Emily revealed, smiling at her
as one would a joke. ‘Charlotte’s tricking you. You know she’s got a problem with you. Look, I just spoke to Arthur,
and he wants to meet you! He says he really likes you. He wants to talk to you upstairs where it’s not so loud.’
    Her interest dispelled her earlier suspicions completely. ‘He said
that?’
    ‘Yep! Isn’t it amazing ?
Arthur and Gwen, just like I said!’ She squealed, and Gwenhwyfar squealed too.
‘It’s so cute! You have to go meet
him. He wants to see you there at ten. That’s in like, three minutes. He’ll be
in the spare room. Tom’s outside, so he won’t know. I have to go though—I
need to keep Charlotte away. She’ll do anything to sabotage this.’
    She was gone before Gwenhwyfar could register the full implications
of what she had said. Arthur liked her. She felt euphoric. Quickly she checked
the time on her phone. Three minutes? Why so precise? She was too intoxicated
to care, examined her ghostly reflection in her pocket mirror and pinched the
colour back into her cheeks. She had to go. She would be a fool not to.

Hector Browne

    Gwenhwyfar’s head
spun as she carefully
lowered herself onto the bed.
    She wasn’t aware of her inability to balance herself, only that the
moments between her being downstairs and entering the spare room had been
consumed by a void. She put her clutch beside her, steadying her breathing with
her head between her legs. Inhaling upside down helped, and when she sat
straight again she felt more human. Organising her hair for the umpteenth time,
Gwenhwyfar observed the room around her. It was plainly decorated, nothing
special. There were a few photo-frames dotted here and there, but apart from
the picture of Tom, none of them were of anyone she recognised.
    The opening and closing of the door drew her back to her senses.
Something was wrong. ‘Who are you?’
    ‘Someone’s had a little too much,’ was the candid response. ‘You know
who I am.’
    ‘No,’ she bit, though
she knew him from somewhere. She stood, and for a moment her frosty exterior
paused him. ‘Would you leave? I’m expecting someone.’
    ‘Yeah, I know. Charlotte said.’ He slunk closer. Gwenhwyfar moved
away from the bed.
    ‘Charlotte?’ Quickly she looked to the door. ‘Hector, right?’
    ‘So you do know me,’ he smirked.
    ‘Yeah, I do. Now get out, I’m waiting for someone.’
    He laughed and lurched for her. She twisted her arm away as his
fingers grabbed at her wrist. The repulsive mix of beer, solution and sweat
caused her to back away as he encircled her small waist with his thick arm.
    ‘Get off me!’ She pushed at him, but he barely seemed to feel it, and
then his cold lips pressed hard down upon her own. Shrinking backwards she hit
the cabinet behind her, knocking the photo of Tom flat. Through the clatter of
objects she heard the door open. Immediately Hector backed off. Arthur stood
open-mouthed in the doorway.
    ‘Sorry—’ he stammered, eyes wide, ‘—I thought—I
mean—’
    ‘Arthur!’ She pushed towards him, but her plea was rejected. His face
contorted to an expression of pain and he slammed the door. He was gone.
    ‘Idiot!’ she expelled, gripped by sudden fury. ‘Why did you go and do
that?’
    Hector’s confusion transformed to humiliation as he realised his
mistake. ‘Do what?’
    Gwenhwyfar strode across the room and snatched up her clutch. ‘Kiss
me! I didn’t