Chapter 6

First Premonition

The moon's light seeped in through the curtains in the hall leading to the king's chambers. Everything gave the appearance of being tranquil, yet an unsettling feeling lingered about. Something in my father's chambers felt wrong. I stood watching, my mind floating about in a dreamlike state with uncertainty of whether or not I am actually present. My body refused to move forward or back. It seems the only option I have is to remain in place, watching.

Hearing footsteps, my heart picks up speed and a shadow emerges. My lungs grow heavier as my eyes continue to stare straight ahead. Coming into the candle's light was Lancelot in his night robes. He walked right past where I apparently stood without notice. I gaze to him in wonder. What business could he possibly have in the king's private chambers in the middle of the night?

I opened my eyes seeing that with the sun's rays replacing the moonlight it must now be morning. Sitting up in my bed, I continued to think of what I just saw. Perhaps it was only a dream, but it seemed so real. I cannot explain, but the feeling I had just a moment ago was not the same, as I would have for any ordinary dream. I suppose it could be possible that my powers are growing. Several weeks have gone by since my first prophecy. My powers do not frighten me as they once did. Mordred has had much to do with that. On several occasions, we have secretly met at night and he would show me some more of his powers. Oddly enough, the more exposure I had, the more my fear withered down. I do not entirely understand my father's phobia of magic anymore. I suppose it may have affected Merlin in some sort of way, but Mordred seems just fine. I am sure if I learn from him to channel my abilities I will be fine as well.

As I think of Mordred, I lift up my brush to test if my powers have advanced enough to move it, but still nothing happens. I want so much to be closer to him and I can tell by the way his golden eyes look into mine his feelings are mutual. Even so, he remains resistant. I do understand. After all, I am betrothed. My heart sinks every time I think of Gawain now. I wish not to hurt him but, alas, I am unable to control how I feel.

At that moment an idea sprung on to me. Mordred is the son of my father's sister, Morgana. Therefore, just as much royal blood flows through his veins as they do Gawain's. That would make Mordred a suitable compassion for me in the eyes of Camelot. All I need is Father's approval.

Without wasting another moment, I threw on my gown and hastily made my way to my father's chambers.

I knocked on the door. "Father, my I have a word with you?"

At the notion of his approval I walked in and found the king assembling his robes. I noticed that he stood alone.

"Where is Mother?" I asked, my eyes scanning the room.

"She awoke early today so she fancied herself a walk in the garden," Father replied, seemingly avoiding my eyes, and then hastily changed the subject. "What matter do you wish do discuss at this hour?"

I paused, considering how to approach this. "Well, to start, Father, what do you think of Mordred?"

Though he seemed slightly taken back by my question he still smiled as he answered, "I think Mordred is a wonderful young man, very intelligent, agile mind, and indeed a well-skilled knight. Why do you ask?"

"Well," I spoke slowly, "I was thinking the same of him and I believe he would make a fine ruler of Camelot."

Father gazed at me, his golden eyes filled with uncertainty. "Do you wish to give up your birth right, Isobel? After the years of diligent work in preparation, that would be quite a waste."

"No, of course not!" I shook my head rapidly, slightly startled that he did not immediately pick up on where I was going. "I wish to marry Mordred."

For a moment, he merely gaped at me as though he did not comprehend what I just requested, but then looked to the ground and shook his head. "No, no you cannot marry Mordred."

At first, I could not produce any words as I was so stunned by his blunt rejection. Father did not even take a moment to consider.

"Why ever not?" I finally demanded, trying to contain the fury in my voice. "You admitted you are quite fond of him. I am fond of him as well. Why do you forbid me to marry him?"

"Because, Isobel…" his voice seemed to shiver as he struggled to come up with a valid reason, "because… you are already promised to Gawain."

"Promised is not married!" I protested. "I just do not feel the same for Gawain as I do for Mordred."

"Isobel, I beg you," Father pleaded, "Push these feelings you have to the back of your mind. Think about what this will do to Gawain, or his family for that matter. If we were to break this agreement that could possibly lead to war with King Lot and Queen Morgause."

"And what of Morgana?" I asked, "Perhaps that was her purpose for sending Mordred to our lands in the first place."

Father simply shook his head. "I seriously doubt that, Isobel. My sister's intentions are still unknown."

"I still do not understand why Mordred and I cannot…"

"The answer is no, Isobel," Father spoke with sudden firmness. "I will hear no more on this matter."

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving me alone in his chambers, too astounded to even move. This just happened to be one reason I truly despised being a princess.

xXx

"Princess Isobel?" I hear Catrin call as she knocked on my door just as the sun set.

"Come in," I answer.

Catrin entered and curtsied, her dark straw hair falling over her face.

"I just wish to remind you of your dinner with Prince Gawain," she informed as she rose back up.

I sat on my bed, awkwardly, putting my hand on my forehead. "Oh, um… well, actually I am feeling ill so I do not think I will be able to."

"Are you sure, Princess Isobel?" Catrin asked. "You have not seen Prince Gawain in more than a week, and it would be a shame for all that food to go to waste."

I could feel my eyes light as I thought of something. "You should go in my place!"

"Me?" She asked uncertainly.

"Yes," I declared firmly. "That way, the food will not be wasted and Gawain will have company as he dines. It will be perfect."

I loaned Catrin one of my nicer gowns and sent her on her way. I know this is not custom, but as soon as I become High Queen, I plan to alter some of these customs anyway.

With nearly an hour passed, I hear a soft rap on my door.

"Come in," I called, immediately lying in bed and hoping that my visitor was not Father.

The chamber doors opened to reveal Mordred. He entered looking slightly concerned.

I practically leaped out of bed and rushed over to him. "Mordred! What are you doing here?"

His ached expression transformed into a grin. "I heard that you were ill so I came to see how you are, but you do not seem sick at all."

I smiled, but looked down shamefully. "I made it up. I just did not fancy a dinner with him this evening."

"I see," Mordred replied, lifting his brow. "Well, seeing as you are not ill, would you care for an evening stroll in the garden?"

"That sounds wonderful," I answered eagerly.

We strolled amongst the lilies shimmering in the moonlight. I reached my hand casually taking hold of Mordred's. He was at first resistant, but I soon felt the warmth of his clutch.

"So have you heard any more prophecies, recently?" Mordred asked.

I gazed straight ahead as I spoke without thought. "Well, actually, I believe I may have had an premonition."

"Wow." Mordred's tone sounded impressed. "Your powers are growing rather rapidly. What did you see?"

I looked at him momentarily, before turning my gaze back down to ponder. "It was dark. I could not tell if it was late night or early morning. I saw Lancelot coming out of the king's chambers in his robes."

Mordred remained silent for a moment before asking, "What business would Lancelot have in the king's chambers that time a day, unless…"

I gawked at him sharply. "Unless what?"

He shook his head quickly. "Never mind. I am sure it is not that. I do not wish to upset you."

"Tell me what you are thinking!" I demanded.

Mordred hesitated, turning his gaze back downward. "Well, perhaps the reason Lancelot was at the royals chambers at that hour was that…uh, that he and the queen are…"

"Stop!" I interjected harshly. "I will hear no more of this. I know my mother and she would never betray my father."

Mordred scratched his head. "You have to admit based on what you saw with your own eyes, it does appear as so."

"I did not actually see it," I protested, my voice still carrying tones of fury. "It was a premonition and I do not even know for sure that it was legitimate. It could have simply been a dream."

"But you said it felt like a vision," Mordred reminded me.

I put my hand on my head in distress. "I do not know for certain." I let out a sigh as my hand flew back down. "Perhaps I should be off to bed."

"Isobel, wait!" Mordred called out, but I had already gone.

My mind sunk down in deep denial, I entered the castle and proceeded to my own chambers. Just as I began to turn the corner, a candle's light caught my eye. I turned my head back to see Lancelot in his night robes, appearing just the same as he did in my vision. The notable difference in the present exposed to be, instead of coming out from the royal chambers, he headed towards them.