What killed Bree was that she understood and couldn't even be angry. He knelt to her after a lifetime of thinking he was the king, and that had to sting. And then she rescued him. Not alone, of course. She'd rescued him with a whole table of knights behind her, but she was the first face he saw coming through the door, the sword that was supposed to be his birthright in her hand.
It was a lot for Nick to process. And she couldn't fault him for lack of class. He kissed her hand, and smiled wryly, and said he was the first of her table. She could call on him for anything at any time, and he would be honored to answer, but maybe they should give themselves time for their Lancelot/Arthur relationship to sort itself out before they tried to complicate it with anything else.
"Of course," she said, and "You're right," because her heart was shattering into a thousand sharp pieces, but that didn't mean he was wrong.
He added, "Besides, I think you've got another candidate for Guinevere."
"What?"
Nick just smiled as he backed away – actually backed away as if this were a medieval court and not a clearing in the woods behind a pretentious manor house filled with teenage versions of the Knights of the Round Table. Bree let him get out of sight before she said with more than a little irritation, "I can feel you staring at me."
Sel dropped down from the tree he'd been perched in like some kind of magical, oversized bird. He landed with his usual preternatural grace, not so much as a stumble or a turned ankle, and Bree sighed. The electrical tingle along her shoulders didn't go away, but it felt less eerie when she could see him. She crossed her arms over her chest, hating the defensive posture even as she took it. "So I assume you saw all of that."
"I thought he'd drag it out longer," Sel said. "But, predictably, he was noble to the end."
Noble. Could Lancelot even be not noble? Probably not. Bree wanted to fling herself into Sel's arms and cry. She wanted to turn her back on him and stalk away. Instead of doing either, she said, "I wish you'd at least pretend to give me privacy."
"'Fraid that's off the table," he said. "Kingsmage and all. And I don't get to feel when you're in danger, so I have to watch."
"Because you're bound to Nick."
"And you're the king." He shrugged. "It's a bit of a conundrum, I agree, but I figure I've lived through worse puzzles. And I'm a bit invested in you not getting eaten by a hellrabbit or something when I'm not looking, so get used to me."
"I think I could handle a hellrabbit."
"If you fell on it. Maybe." A smile twitched the corners of his mouth up, and he held a hand out. Bree hesitated. They still weren't what she'd call easy with one another, but when he cocked his brows up, she slipped her fingers into his. Sel tugged her forward until she was right at his side, and she rested there. When she was this close she could smell the comforting remnants of burnt cinnamon and whiskey. She wasn't even sure she liked him, but somewhere along the way, he'd become a refuge. "Let me feel useful, Briana. I was…"
He hesitated, and his golden eyes closed for a long moment. "I was made for this," he said at last, very softly. "Ordered up like a custom car. If I don't have this… and at least I like you."
"You liked Nick." She wanted to tell him he could be more than a Merlin, more than a monster made for killing anyone who threatened the Order, but until they unwound a thousand tendrils of power from the Regents and the Vassals, maybe he couldn't. Maybe it would be cruel to promise something she couldn't deliver. She leaned against him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist.
"I hated Nick," he said.
She snorted. "You were in love with him." It was one of the things they had in common.
"When I was fourteen," Sel said. "That was a while ago. I've moved on."
"And now you like him."
"I prefer you." Sel tipped his head to the side, and when Bree looked up there was something in his golden eyes that he tucked away almost at once, but she'd seen it. Amusement, she thought, though she suspected he was mocking himself rather than her. "And at the moment, I'm irritated with him for hurting you."
"I'll get over it."
"I know." His smile turned into an outright smirk. "And I'll watch every step of your breakup woes. The ice cream wallowing. The nights out with Alice. The bad haircut. The –"
"I'm not going to wallow," Bree said. She swallowed hard and shoved all her feelings for Nick into a small box and put it on a shelf somewhere in the back of her mind. He was kind and he was dear and he was – and would be – her knight. That would be enough because she would make it be enough.
"And what will you do instead?"
She took a step away from Sel. She had papers to do, a book she needed to read, and if she didn't call her father soon, her grandmother might pop in and yell at her. And there was one very particular thing she needed to research. "I'm going to find your mother," she said.
Sel waited long enough that he had to almost hurry to catch up, his eyes making her shoulder blades crackle with imaginary fire the whole time. "You can't," he said flatly. When she didn't answer, he grabbed her wrist and spun her to face him. Arthur rumbled down inside her somewhere, furious that someone would dare. Bree ignored him. "Briana, you –"
"My mother is dead," she said. The words fell like stones between them. "Nick's is so mesmered she can't even… your mother is alive Sel. She's out there. She's –"
"It's too dangerous," he hissed.
"To her?" Bree asked. It was the one thing that she'd let stop her. If Selwyn thought she was putting his mother at risk, even if she disagreed, she'd back down immediately.
But what he said was, "To you, you… are you really this stupid?"
"What you're supposed to say here is, 'Thank you, my liege, I—'." But the raw hope mingled with fear on his face made her stop teasing. She set a hand on his arm. "Sel, I –"
He grabbed her face with both hands, and for a moment she thought he'd shake her like a rabbit. Then he bent down and kissed her. His lips were electric against hers, and it was so unexpected she didn't have time to react before he'd pulled away again. Tears clung to the edges of his lashes, and he blinked them away in a fury. "Sel?" she asked
"Go do your homework," he said hoarsely. "It'll humiliate everyone if our king flunks out of college. I'll meet you and Alice later with pints of ice cream for your wallow."
"I'm not going to wallow," Bree said, but she was watching his face, looking for answers or clarity.
"You will," he said. "And I plan to watch every moment of it. Kings don't get privacy."
She sighed and started walking back toward campus. She was almost out of hearing range when he whispered, "And I'll be here when you're done."