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Just one more chapter after this.

GWEN

The months I had spent in Camelot had flown by in a blink...like the snap of fingers...the way time always seemed to move when you're happiest.

But the last two days have limped...crawled by in endless, teeth-gnashingly painful seconds.

I thought leaving there was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

But I was wrong.

Living without Arthur was so much harder.

I had called Emma from the airport and told her I was coming home. Then I had asked her to meet me when I landed.

But when I walked out of the gate, it wasn't her that was there...

It was my dad.

His eyes were clear, sober and strong.

And knowing.

So I was already crying by the time he got to me. And I didn't even try to hold back.

He'd told me it would be okay and he'd promised that I would be all right. Then he told me I was strong...like my mother...and that I would get through this.

Then he rocked me in his arms and held me tightly.

My hero.

But...it has been a struggle.

I have to fight the urge to curl into a ball and cry, because everything hurts.

My chest felt heavy with the weight of my heart and my head throbbed with doubts...about all the things I could've done differently.

My arms and legs ached with the urge to run back to Arthur...to fix it...to hug him and never, ever let him go.

And my stomach felt twisted and nauseated. So sick, that for a split second...yesterday...I considered the possibility that I was pregnant.

And that fleeting thought brought relief and joy.

It was the worst reason to want a baby, but it would mean Arthur and I would still have a connection. And I would have a reason to go back...to see him again.

I know I sound like a desperate, pathetic woman, but I just don't care. Having your heart ripped out of your chest will do that to you.

Alas, it was too early for morning sickness, but even if it wasn't, I knew I wasn't pregnant. Those magical fixes happened only in romance novels and on soap operas.

In real life, birth control is reliably...sometimes heartbreakingly...effective.

My father had filled me in on his covert business deal with Gwaine Mc Allister the night I came home.

The contract was exclusive, which meant, we were out of the pie business for good. And I was happy about that.

I was.

Happy that my father was sober and healthy.

Happy that Emma would be able to go to college, without the weight of money troubles on her back.

Happy even for me...that I had choices now. That my life won't be spent doing something I hated, for the family I loved.

But Arthur was right. Everyone has a price and everything was for sale.

Business was booming.

The line at Emily's was out the door and down the block.

But there were not here for the pies. The crowd that filled the coffee shop every day, was looking for a piece of Arthur.

They all wanted to see the table he sat at.

And Emma helpfully screwed a plaque into the back of one of the chairs, with the caption, His Royal Ass Was Here.

Beside it, Adam scratched into the wood, And it was fiiine.

"It's really you! Oh my God! Can I get a picture?" a statuesque, twenty-something woman vibrating beside me asked.

"No. Sorry, no pictures," I mumbled, staring at the dirty plates in my hand.

I didn't do autographs or pictures, but it didn't stop people from asking.

I've been working every day, trying to stay busy, but I mostly stay in the back. Away from all the greedy eyes and prying questions.

I dumped the dishes into the sink in the kitchen, while the DISHWASHER WANTED sign still hung, unclaimed, in the front window.

The chatter of the crowd out front was so loud, that I didn't hear the person behind me come in. Not until I turned around and ran smack into his chest.

Percy steadied me with a hand on my elbow.

"Pardon me, Miss Gwen."

That awful tight feeling pinched my chest, because looking at his face, drummed up memories that pounded their way through my head.

"Why are you here, Percy?"

He gave me a confused look.

"It's my shift. Harry has the day off."

"No. No, I mean why are you still here?"

There hadn't been any word from Arthur...not a call or a text. So I expected Percy and Harry to head back to Camelot, as soon as it was clear I was back.

For good.

Percy's mouth tightened, and sympathy dimmed in his eyes.

"Prince Arthur asked me to protect your business and watch over your sister. Until I receive new orders, that's what I'll do."

"Maybe…he forgot you were here?" I asked.

He chuckled.

"He doesn't forget about his men. If Harry and I are here, it's because, here is where he wants us to be."

I didn't know what to do with that information.

I didn't know if it was some deeper clue about Arthur's intentions or if it meant nothing at all. But I didn't have time to analyze it. Because a second later, my sister's voice echoed from out front.

"Everybody out! Let's go! It's siesta time, people! We are closed for the afternoon. Hey, Adam, help a sister out, will you?"

Percy and I rushed out of the kitchen, to see Emma holding the door open, waving everyone out of it...despite the grumbles and protests...while Adam herded them in her direction like a modern-day shepherd.

"Your money's no good here," Adam said, waving at a guy offering him several bills. "Come back tomorrow."

"What are you doing?" I called above the line of heads.

Emma held up her finger, until the last would-be customer had left. Then she locked the door and pulled down the dark green shade over the picture window.

"It's almost time for the press conference." She skipped to the television on the counter, turning it on. "I figured you'd want privacy when we watch it."

My stomach had dropped to my feet a lot during the last few months, but this time, it dropped to fucking China.

"I'm not watching the press conference."

"Oh yes you are, Negative Nelly," Emma said.

Then she dragged me by the arm to a front-row seat.

"Unlike you, I still have hope that His Royal Hotness is going to pull his stupid head out of his fine ass," she added.

"Even if he did, it doesn't matter. We were only supposed to last the summer. We were doomed from the start," I quietly said.

Adam came up behind me, and gently squeezed my shoulders.

"Even if that turns out to be true, this will give you closure, at least."

I hate that word.

Closure.

It was just confirmation that what you dreaded was actually true.

Dead is dead.

Over is really over.

But there was no comfort in it.

"I don't want to watch," I protested.

I haven't searched Arthur's name online, neither have I looked at any of the paparazzi photos that are always so readily available.

It would be like holding a still-raw, blistering burn against a hot stove...too much hurt to handle.

My sister folded her arms.

"Liar! You so want to watch."

Okay, she was right.

The truth is, I don't want to, want to watch.

I don't want to miss him.

I don't want to need him.

I don't want to spend every moment of every day trying not to cry, because I can't imagine a future without him in it anymore.

But…we don't always get what we want.

What did my mother say when we were little?

You get what you get and you don't get upset.

So I sat in the chair and dug my fingernails into my palm, while Emma switched the channel to the news station carrying the live press conference, and increased the volume...to find out exactly what Arthur and I both ended up getting.

I wasn't the only one who'd paid a price.

Despite how it all went south in the end, I knew Arthur...every inch of his soul. And I knew what he felt for me was real...every touch, every smile.

I've imagined his regret when he eventually found out the truth. And I sincerely believe, if he could've changed things, he would have.

I believe he wanted to, more than he's wanted anything in his whole life.

But we can't change who we are. Not a queen, a prince...or a girl from New York.

Like he told me once…royalty was forever.

The television was focused on an empty podium, with the royal family crest etched into the shiny wood.

I didn't recognize the ornate background...two windows with heavy floral drapery, with a portrait of Arthur's parents hanging on the wall between them.

It was not Orkney House, that much I knew. Maybe it was another room in the palace, or one of the other properties Arthur had told me about, but never had the chance to show me.

There was building chatter from a group off camera, then a burst of camera flashes, and then he was there, stepping up to the podium.

The breath rushed from my lungs in one scraping, painful swoop, and the lump that suddenly lodged in my throat, made it hard to inhale.

God, he's beautiful!

And he looked terrible.

His navy suit molded to his form perfectly...to those wide shoulders, strong arms, and warm, magnificent chest. But there was more hollowness to his cheeks and there were shadows beneath his eyes.

He seemed…sad.

And that devastated me. Because, despite how it all ended, he deserved to be happy.

And I wanted that for him, so much.

Andrew appeared and sat down in a chair on Arthur's right, resting his head on his hand, elbows on the table, and looking tired.

Gwaine was there too...one more chair over. And I suddenly thought of Morgana.

She was probably calling me Runaway Bitch right about now.

"People of Camelot," Arthur began, taking a stack of white note cards from his pocket. "We've been through a lot together, you and I. You celebrated with my family the day of my birth..."

He paused, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

"...and I've been told, some of the parties were quite rowdy. You watched as I took my first steps, attended my first day of school, rode my first horse...King, his name was."

Arthur cleared his throat and looked down, his blonde hair falling over his forehead. He seemed to be grounding himself...to go on...with a strength he didn't quite have.

"You grieved with Andrew and I when we lost our parents," he went on. "Our pain was yours. You nurtured us, consoled us, held us in your arms, as if we were your own...and in a very real way...we are. You saw me graduate university, and undergo the same military training each of you have also undertaken. And I've striven in action and word to make you proud. To become the kind of man, leader and prince you all deserve."

He stared down at the cards in his hand for a moment, then swallowed hard.

"My mother had many dreams for Andrew and I, as all mothers do for their children. She wanted us to have lives filled with purpose, accomplishments…and love. The love my parents had for each other was a wonder to behold...you all saw it. They were meant for each other, and made each other better versions of themselves. And you, like my grandmother, Her Majesty the Queen, have waited...not so patiently..."

He gave a small smirk and a chuckle echoed through the crowd.

"...for me to find a love like that of my own."

He looked nauseated. And his jaw clenched, like he was trying to keep the words in.

Then he looked into the camera, his brows drawn together, and said,

"Today, your waiting comes to an end. And I will speak to you about the future of the monarchy...and about my future with the woman I will marry."

At that, I bit the inside of my cheek.

I don't think I could do this.

God, why did I think I could watch this?

"She would've liked to be here with me today," Arthur continued. "But…circumstances…made that impossible."

He pushed a hand through his hair, and rubbed the back of his neck, as he looked down again at the cards in his hand.

"And so, I announce that I…that I…"

He stumbled on the words and I lost the ability to breathe.

He didn't move.

He didn't say a word for several seconds.

And then…he laughed.

A sharp, bitter sound, while pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

"I am a horse's ass," he said.

Emma jumped out of her chair, yelling,

"I knew it! He's Jerry McGuiring you! He's Jerry McGuiring you, because you complete him!"

"Shhh!" someone said to her, probably Adam.

"I had what my parents had," Arthur said fiercely, gripping the sides of the podium. "I held it in my hands. The love of a woman who was not born into royalty, but who is more noble of character than anyone I have ever known. Knowing her…changed everything. And loving her…brought me to life."

There was a wave of whispers in the crowd as his brow furrowed.

"And I betrayed her. I doubted her love and her honesty when I should've known better. And I'm sorry…"

He stared into the camera, his blue eyes glowing...like he was looking right at me.

"I'm so damn sorry," he softly said.

After a moment, his eyes returned to the crowd and his voice grew stronger, more definitive with every word.

"But I will not betray her again. I will not forsake the dreams my mother had for her sons, and I will not ignore what my own soul cries out for."

He shook his head.

"Not for country. And not for crown."

Then he paused, wetting his lips.

"I'm supposed to stand up here today and give you the name of the woman who will one day be your queen. But I can't do that. Because I have screwed up."

He snorted.

"Royally."

Then he leaned forward, his beautiful face sure and confident.

"What I can tell you, what I swear to you today, is this...I will marry Guinevere Taylor or I will never marry at all."

And the crowd went berserk.

Holy shit!

"Holy shit!" Emma yelled.

And Adam gasped. Then said,

"You're gonna be a queen, Gwen! Like Beyoncé!" He fanned his eyes with his hand. "I might cry."

Only…I won't be.

I can't be.

"He can't do that," I said, as I turned to Percy. "Can he do that?"

But Percy's mouth was set in a worried line. His eyes flashed to me, and he shook his head...stumped.

Just then, one of the reporters stood up, and the back of his head came into view, in the corner of the screen, yelling his question above the din.

"Prince Arthur! The law is clear, the Crown Prince must marry a woman of noble lineage, or if he is to marry a commoner, she must be a natural-born citizen of Camelot. Guinevere Taylor is neither of those."

I stared at the television, paralyzed by a hundred emotions swirling through me.

Then the crowd went quiet, waiting for Arthur's answer.

"No, she is not," he answered softly, looking down.

And then he straightened his shoulders and raised his head.

"And so, today, I, Arthur William Edward Pendragon, abdicate my place in the line of succession and renounce all rights to the throne of Camelot. From this moment on, my brother, His Royal Highness Andrew Michael Thomas Pendragon, is the Prince of Camelot."

The crowd roared like Brazilian soccer fans right after a goal.

And Andrew woke up, lifting his head. Blinking.

"Wait. What?" he asked.

But Arthur just slapped his shoulder, smiling big and bright, and said to him,

"It's all yours, Andrew. You'll do great...I know you will."

Then he held up his hands to the crowd.

"No more questions. I have a lot to do. Thank you for your time."

He turned to go, but then seemed to have second thoughts and came back to the podium.

"One last thing." He looked directly into the camera, and I felt his eyes like a touch to my skin. "You asked for a warning, Guinevere, so here it is. I'm coming for you, love."

And then he winked.

I watched as Arthur headed off screen with a rush of reporters following him.

What the hell just happened?

The coffee shop was silent...except for the stunned recap of the news anchor.

But as soon as Arthur was off the screen, Adam walked outside, dialing on his phone, mumbling, how the new guy he was dating better up his romantic-gesture game.

Emma was somehow on the floor. I think she passed out somewhere between "Arthur" and "William."

Slowly, I turned to Percy.

"Did that just happen?" I asked.

He nodded.

"It did, lass."

"I can't believe…What did he just do?"

"He gave up a kingdom for you." There was a devilish shine in Percy's eyes. "Always knew he was a smart one."

It took another minute for it all to sink in. And repeating to myself seemed to help.

"He's coming," I said.

"That's what he said," Percy agreed.

"He's coming here…for me."

"Heard that part, too."

There was so much to do…but…priorities.

"He's coming here for me and I haven't shaved my legs in three days!"

I hauled ass towards the stairs in the back, taking out one of the tables as I went.

Behind me, I hear Percy mutter,

"American women are nutty." Then he said to Emma, "Get up, possum."

It will all be revealed who leaked the info to the press in the last chapter.

Stay safe!