Hello. I wrote this on a whim after reading "The Lady of Shallot" by Alfred Tennyson in English Lit., so I decided to post it. It's nothing fancy, review if you like. I really didn't know what category to put it in, so sorry if I've offended anyone.

Knave of Hearts

By Jnr Cpl Scarlett

Gazing out from her sky-high balcony, a woman breathed in deeply. Barely older than eighteen, her copper curls were pinned elegantly to her head, with some casading over her shoulders. Her grey eyes were strained from staring into the sunset, which bleached the sky magificently, before disappearing behind the towering mountain to the West. The sky began to darken, and stars were illuminated, like tiny twinkling lights. The Moon lit up the sky, full and obese.

Guinevere took her eyes away from the spectacular sight and sighed. Another day was done; another day was done...another day when her husband had not returned. King Arthur had become so uncertain of late, and Guinevere couldn't begin to think why. She knew for a fact that Morgana and Mordred were planning an attack within the month, but she was sure that wasn't the reason.

Arthur wasn't the dashing knight she'd been hoping for; he was a king! Though she felt something was missing: love. She didn't love him, and he didn't love her. Their marriage was purely for show.

The night became chilly, so chilly that the queen wrapped her arms around herself. Suddenly, a blanket was placed around her shoulders. She turned to find herself facing a handsome young man with coal black curls and a warm smile.

"Sir Lancelot," she purred, "you startled me."

"Forgive me, my queen. I did not intend to frighten you."

She smiled. "I know."

He moved closer. She could feel his warm breath on her skin. She could feel herself blushing. He began to stroke her hair lovingly.

"I wouldn't harm a hair on your head," he whispered.

She became aware of his hands wrapping themselves round her midriff. His touch was so soft and gentle so felt as though she could spend forever in his arms. She allowed her head to fall onto his chest.

"Guinevere," he said softly, breaking the intimate silence.

"Yes, my lord?" she answered hastily, remembering formality.

He opened his charismatic mouth to speak, but stopped, as if pondering his answer.

"I'm beginning to get these...feelings for you. I tried to ignore them, but how can I deny my heart. How can I say no to what I feel for you?"

Guinevere gasped. She knew Lancelot felt something for her, but she had no idea he felt this romantically! She gazed into his eyes, warm and brown, and saw nothing but sincerity.

Without warning, Guinevere's lips were captured in a kiss so passionate and gentle that she thought she might just have to spend all eternity in his tender embrace.

Both gasping for air, they broke apart. It was as if there was romantic music playing in the background. Lost in each other, Lancelot swept Guinevere off her feet and carried her back inside. Maybe she had found her Prince Charming after all...