The days after the wedding took on a comforting, if lonely, rhythm. She spent the mornings with her ailing father, sometimes taking him out to the royal gardens for walks. He was getting weaker and despite Gaius and Merlin's best efforts, Gwen had made peace with the idea that her father didn't have much time left. All she wanted was for him to live out his last days comfortably and happily. Occasionally, Arthur would make an appearance in the mornings, and they would play the part of happy newlyweds. Then he'd touch her gently, put an arm around her shoulders and sometimes brush his lips across her cheek. Gwen supposed Arthur didn't have to, but when she asked, he'd looked at her, then agreed.

She often dined alone during lunch, although Merlin joined her when he could. They never spoke of Arthur or of her 'betrayal', preferring to keep things light between them. Merlin talked about his village in Ealdor and Gwen spoke of her kingdom. Her afternoons were spent learning about Camelot – how the royal household was run, the relations between Camelot and the other kingdoms – everything that she would need to know to run the kingdom. Sometimes, she ventured out of the castle to look at the lands she was now princess of. It was flattering how much people seemed to love her, despite barely knowing her and she realised just how loved the Pendragons were.

Nights were when she spent time with Arthur, looking through various petitions. By unspoken agreement, they never mentioned the 'betrayal' and it was easy to forget that Arthur thought her a traitor he couldn't trust. Perhaps it was because the marriage was now final and they were going to have to find a way to live together for the rest of their lives, but they both tried very hard to keep things if not positive, at least bearable.

"And so Lord Walter thinks that he should be entitled to more rations," muttered Arthur as he shifted through the various petitions. Lord Walter was being a pain recently, sending in countless petitions.

"Because Sir Percival is from his village?" Guinevere frowned from across the table. "Everyone is suffering through this drought together and it's not like our rations are unlimited."

"He thinks that because Sir Percival won this year's knights' tournament that his village should be given special consideration. I should have taken part in the tournament then this wouldn't be a problem because I would have won."

Guinevere smiled but said nothing, her attention on the petition in front of her. As princess, she took over Morgana's duties, mainly those relating to the running of the castle and matters of the outlying towns and villages while Arthur focused on working with the knights and shadowing his father in the council chambers. Her experience in Acirith meant she needed little help getting up to speed and he found that he actually enjoyed having someone else beside a disagreeable Morgana, foolish Merlin or suspicious father to discuss such matters of state with.

As the days passed, Arthur found it more and more difficult to remember that she was the untrustworthy princess who had easily betrayed Camelot. They never spoke of it again although his father took great pains to remind him of her transgression. The hole in their lives left by Morgana was another reminder of all Guinevere had done to them. Yet he could not deny that she took on all her responsibilities seriously. She even managed to charm most of those who lived in the upper and middle town with her frequent visits and chats, something Morgana often felt was unneeded.

"What will you tell Lord Walter?"

"No. His village is no more special than anyone else's." He dropped the petition he was holding and leaned back and watched her reaction.

"He will not be pleased. You know this isn't the first petition of his you've turn down." Guinevere said mildly as she continued to sort the petitions in front of her. "Maybe on our way to Acirith tomorrow, we can stop by his village and you can give them a small gift of extra rations."

"That's not what he asked for."

"It's better than just sending the messenger round to deny yet another of his petitions. At least, he will feel that you care enough to personally take care of the matter. It might soothe his ego and appease him for now."

He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face.

"What?" She looked up curiously. "Why do you look so pleased?"

"You're quite good at this ruling thing."

"I was born a princess," she teased gently.

"A very smart princess too." Arthur left his seat and crossed over to her. Staring at her upturned face and the slight smile on it, he felt his heart contract. It would be so easy to love her. Without the cloud of her betrayal, he suspected he would have by now. Unthinkingly, he reached out a hand and brushed a lock of her hair from her face.

"It's getting late. We have an early morning tomorrow," she said, even as her own eyes widened and she leaned towards him.

"We can't keep this up forever Guinevere. I can't keep coming into your room every night and just go through paperwork." He tugged at her hand and pulled her out of her seat. "You yourself told me the servants are already talking about how I don't spend the night in your room. And soon, people will be pressuring us for an heir."

"I know."

He watched the uncertainty and fear in her face and a sense of protectiveness fill him. He had no desire to force her into anything she didn't want but everyone was expecting an heir from them. The pressure would only become worse as more time passed.

Slipping his arms around her waist, he gently pulled her closer to him. When she came to him willingly, he kissed her, deepening it when her arms curled around his neck. She tasted of sweetness and light and he couldn't get enough. Releasing her lips, he dipped his head to press kisses down her neck, a smile breaking out when he felt her shudder.

"Arthur," she gasped.

"Guinevere," he murmured against her shoulder. She dragged her palms down his chest and he tensed. When her fingers tentatively played with the edges of his shirt, he lifted his head and caught her hands in his. "Are you sure? We can probably delay things a little while more."

She swallowed and nodded, leaning into him slightly. Letting her hands go, he gathered her to him, kissing her slowly. Her hands slipped under his shirt, tracing patterns on his skin and he sucked in a breath, holding it as she explored. It was blissful torture, feeling her skin on his. Slowly, he moved his hands up along her sides until he reached the swell of her breasts. He brushed his knuckles against them, smiling as she moaned into his mouth. Tearing his mouth from hers, he looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her chest heaving as she took small, quick breaths and her mouth was slightly open. Arthur thought he had never been more aroused in his life, never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her.

Her eyes fluttered open and she wonderingly traced the sides of his face before reaching up to kiss his jaw. Against him, she murmured his name and pressed her body against him. Chuckling at her sudden boldness, he picked her up and deposited her on her bed, watching with growing desire at how her hair spread against the sheets, how pliant she seemed, the soft, sensual smile across her face and hooded eyes that beckoned him.

He breathed her name and slid into the bed with her.

She drifted in and out of sleep throughout the night, her feelings all over the place. In the end, the experience was a lot more pleasant than she had been led to believe by some but there hadn't been exploding stars or shaking earth as Beatrice had gushed about. Arthur had been incredibly gentle and slow with her, for which she was very grateful. Initially, it worried her that her inexperience might have disappointed him but now, she suspected he was as inexperienced as her. Still, lying in bed with Arthur's arm curled around her and his snores tickling the back of her neck, she felt a strange sense of peace and satisfaction, so much so that even during her waking moments during the night, she was reluctant to move.

The sun peeked through her curtains, reminding her that she needed to get up. They had planned a visit to Acirith to formally introduce Arthur to her council, make arrangements to bring Acirith under Camelot rule and to bring her father back to his kingdom. He had little time left and she wanted him to spend his last days on his own lands. Slowly, she eased herself from Arthur's arms and slipped out of the bed, quickly pulling on her shift. He muttered something but didn't wake.

As she slipped on her clothes, she wondered how he would take her request to allow Acirith autonomy from Camelot. She knew King Uther expected Arthur to subsume Acirith into Camelot but she was hoping that he could be persuaded to allow Acirith to be part of Camelot yet be governed separately, to allow her to have the final say over everything to do with her kingdom. She had already given up so much of herself to Camelot.

A light knock warned her of company.

"My eyes are closed!" Merlin said almost laughingly as he opened the door a crack. "The King wants to see Arthur before you leave today. Is he still sleeping?"

Ensuring she was decent, she yanked the door open and found herself face to face with an incredibly pleased looking Merlin.

"So," he grinned impishly, "had a good night?"

She could feel the heat in her cheeks. "Where's Mary?"

"Waiting for you over there. She didn't want to disturb you. I'll just go deal with Arthur now. I bet he's in a good mood."