Krysia knew something wasn't right when she arrived at breakfast and Uther made a point of seating her next to Arthur. He nearly always sat her beside Morgana, often across from Arthur, but rarely beside him. Arthur waited for Krysia to sit before he sat, and he, too, seemed to think that something wasn't quite right.

"You look lovely this morning, Krysia," Uther said. She softly said her thanks, looking at Morgana, who's eyebrows twitched. "Arthur, doesn't she look lovely?"

Krysia felt her neck go hot as Arthur squirmed in his seat.

"She always is lovely, father," Arthur said. "I didn't think it needed to be said. As it happens, Morgana, you also look lovely today."

Morgana seemed amused, but Krysia really wasn't.

"The weather is good today," Uther said. "Krysia, when's the last time you went on a ride?"

Krysia gripped at her fork, staring at the prongs.

"I'm really not sure, sire," she said.

"Arthur, you should take her on a ride."

Arthur coughed, setting down his drink. He reminded his father that he had training to run, but Uther said he'd already asked Geraint to run the training today.

"Morgana," Krysia said with a bright smile, "you should join us. I've never known you to pass up a ride."

"Morgana is going to help me oversee the division of grain to the orphans," Uther said.

Krysia forced her smile to stay on her lips. She thought about offering to help with that, but she knew he'd insist, and she and Arthur would wound up back where they started.

"I suppose I'll have Merlin prepare some horses," Arthur said.

That was something, Krysia thought with relief. Merlin would be there, and nothing would be less romantic than Arthur and Merlin and Krysia all on a date together.

/-/

Krysia met Arthur and Merlin in the main square where the horses had been saddled and prepared. Arthur looked as uncomfortable and reluctant as she did, but he still did his duty, holding out a hand to help her onto her horse before mounting his own. Krysia adjusted the bridle a little for her preferences, and then she let Arthur lead the way. They were well into the forest before she noticed the picnic basket.

They dismounted, and Krysia watched Merlin lay out a picnic with some trepidation. Arthur, too, was fixating on the horses, not looking at her until Merlin said their layout was ready. Krysia sat beside Arthur on the blanket, looking at the beauty of the forest.

"I'm so sorry," Arthur finally said.

Krysia sighed and laid down on the blanket, relieved that he said it first.

"I really don't want to marry you," she said.

"Likewise," Arthur said. "I'm sure if we did marry we'd be comfortable and amicable, but…I'm sorry, even the idea of kissing you is a bit awkward. You're like a sister."

"I feel the same way," Krysia said. She closed her eyes. "Lord Godwyn did warn me he'd try this. I should have known it was coming soon when he restored my lands in trust. 'Here's all the wealth you can imagine, now don't forget who gave it to you.' Did he tell you he was going to do this?"

"No," Arthur said, adjusting his boot. "I expect he felt that was his mistake, giving me warning with Elena." He waved his hand at the basket and said, "We may as well enjoy our meal anyway. Shall I leave all the bread for you?"

"If I didn't think I'd go to the dungeons for it, I'd throw a rock at you," she said, sitting up. Arthur just laughed.

They were most of the way through their meal before he said, "Besides, there's a far better match for you already."

"Who's that?" she said, breaking her bread into smaller pieces.

Arthur's lips twitched and he said, "I'm just surprised you haven't noticed. It's not my place to say. But I will tell you it's one of the knights."

Krysia hummed, laying back again and taking the bread in bite-sized amounts. She couldn't think who it might be, especially with the suggestion that it was a good match. There really wasn't anyone in the knights from a high enough family for Uther to approve, not since Sir Owain was killed.

"What do we tell my father?" Arthur finally whispered.

"The truth," she said. "A united front saying that we are good friends, but that neither of us has any interest in marrying the other."

Arthur hummed, then took a drink of his wine and said, "Let's hope he takes it better than the last time."

/-/

Uther sat with Morgana at dinner that night, eager to see the fruits of his labors that evening. Arthur and Krysia had been gone the better part of the day, and knowing how quickly young romance could blossom, he was hopeful that the seeds were already germinated.

They arrived together, which seemed at first like a good sign. In fact, Arthur seemed to be escorting her. Uther was expectant, until Arthur and Krysia stopped short of the table and Arthur began to speak.

"Father, we have very important news," Arthur said, "and the news is that Krysia and I have decided together, and quite firmly, that we have absolutely no interest in courting or marrying each other."

Uther looked to Krysia, hoping that she looked like she might be wavering, but he saw very much the child of Zosia there, perhaps more confident than he'd ever seen her.

"None whatsoever?" Uther said.

"None," Krysia said. "I hope you're not cross, sire?"

Uther was cross, disappointed, and even uneasy. If she did not marry Arthur, how would he ensure the lands remained tied to Camelot?

"We thought we ought to eat separately in our own quarters tonight," Arthur said, "to give you some time to nurse your disappointment."

Before Uther had decided how best to respond, they'd both swept out of the room again, leaving him alone with Morgana in the council chamber, staring at their empty chairs.

He startled out of his reverie when Morgana chuckled slightly. He turned to her, feeling that her amusement was a painful reminder of her own mother at this time. What a mess these young people were making of all his plans.

"What's amusing?" Uther said.

Morgana set down her goblet and said, "The very idea of Arthur and Krysia wed was a bit ludicrous, wasn't it? I mean, the girl was a servant not so long ago. She's not ready to be a queen."

"He is not ready to be a king," Uther said. "They would have grown together into their roles, with guidance."

Morgana was giving him that searching, thoughtful look she sometimes wore, and she said, "What is the benefit of him marrying her opposed to some other princess? Is it just her lands?"

"The lands are part of it," Uther said. He sat back in his chair and frowned at Krysia's empty seat. "There are very few families that can trace directly back to the ancient kings. Adaire and Pendragon are two of only three. Bayard's family is the other. I haven't forgotten how eagerly he tried to take her away to Mercia when he was here."

"You think he recognized her?" Morgana said.

Uther waved off the suggestion and said, "I know he must have. Why else make such a fuss over a servant? A…a prophecy exists that the Houses of Adaire and Pendragon would combine to bring prosperity to the land. If Krysia marries one of Bayard's sons instead of Arthur…"

He wished he could recall Marzena's words exactly, but he hadn't paid much attention at the time. He'd assumed that she was simply foretelling his marriage to Zosia, which he had always considered inevitable. But if he couldn't get Arthur and Krysia to see reason—

"That doesn't mean it has to be Arthur, you know," Morgana said with a thoughtful look. "He's not the only Pendragon."

Uther frowned, not sure what Morgana was getting at. He couldn't afford to wait for Arthur and Krysia's children to tie those lands together. Camelot needed the stability now. Unless she was suggesting that if Krysia married Bayard's child they would gain Mercia as well in another generational—

"After all," Morgana said, "it would mean that only one person would need to be trained in her role, to grow into it. And who better to mold her into the shape of a queen that her husband, a strong, practiced king?"

Uther startled as he realized what Morgana was suggesting. He took a large gulp of his wine. When had the chamber got so hot?

"She's young enough to be my child," Uther said.

Morgana smiled and said, "She's a woman, is she not? And a beautiful one at that. For all you know, Bayard was thinking of marrying her himself. He is a widower, after all. There is no law that keeps a king from remarrying, and I've always thought Krysia might marry someone a bit older than her."

Uther was uncomfortable with the suggestion, but also intrigued by it. Morgana was right that it would solve their problems of her land. And she was…very beautiful.

But it was foolishness. That was over for him long ago, and he wouldn't begin to know how to make a wife so young happy. And how could she be happy, married to an old man who killed her parents?

"It's out of the question," Uther whispered. "Don't you worry, Morgana. Arthur will come around."

Morgana didn't seem so sure, and Uther didn't feel as sure as he hoped he sounded. What was worse, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get the wild suggestion out of his head now that it was there.

/-/

Uther found Krysia in the library the next morning, and he had every intention of arranging another rendezvous with Arthur, perhaps something a little bit less obvious, but he stopped short when he realized which dress she was wearing.

It was one of her white gowns, worn with her favorite green-and-gold belt. That dress had always struck him as a bit suggestive. It was far from her lowest neckline, it didn't show her shoulders, and there were no laces tightening the bodice, but the way the silk clung to ever part of her made him momentarily forget why he'd been looking for her in the first place. What's more, the pendant she wore dipped just under the neckline, suggesting the curves below all the more.

He should walk away. This was not the right frame of mind to have this conversation. Not when his imagination was already running to brushing that loose strand of hair off her neck and sitting very, very close to her.

Why did Morgana have to make that suggestion? He should walk away.

He sat beside her at the table, and she looked up, which almost made it worse.

"Good morning," he said.

"Hello, sire," she said, clearly surprised that he'd sat beside her. "Were you looking for Geoffrey?"

"No, no," he said, reaching for her hand before he could stop himself. What was he doing? "I wanted to speak with you about yesterday."

She looked at where his hand took hers, but she didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she stared at it and said, "I'm afraid I'm not going to change my mind, sire. Whatever it is that you were going to suggest we try, that isn't going to make us fall in love."

"No, no," he said. "Because…love is built on respect, is it not?"

She looked him in the eye now, and he wished she'd look away again. Her fingers were so soft.

"I think respect is required, yes," she said. "But my feelings about Arthur are not—"

"And on companionship," he said.

"Yes, sire," she said. "But Arthur is—"

"And attraction," he whispered, uncomfortably aware of how attractive she was. Even if he wanted to enact Morgana's surely half-joking suggestion, how could a woman this beautiful ever consider him attractive?

"Yes, sire," she said, staring back at him, confused. "I'm sorry, what…what were you saying?"

What was he saying? Why had he come to talk to her? He was having a hard time remembering. She smelled lovely, lightly floral. Why had he never noticed that before?

"You'll be at dinner tonight, won't you?" he said.

"Dinner?" she said. "Yes, of course I will."

He kissed her hand, tried to avoid looking too long at anything other than her face when he stood, and took his leave while he still had his wits about him.

Perhaps he could convince her servant to burn that dress.

/-/

The sun was lowering and Krysia stood watching the lights painted over the clouds. It had been a surreal couple of days, and she wasn't even sure what to expect next, as she didn't think Uther would be as willing to let the matter go, not when they both lived in his castle.

She felt the presence of someone near her and smelled the familiar warm, slightly sweaty, sharp smell that she associated with Leon. She didn't turn her head, just greeted him.

"You're not usually out this late," he said.

"I used to be out much later than this," she said with a frown. "I probably still would be if there weren't so few things to do at night."

He brushed a strand of her hair off her shoulder and said, "I doubt that if you put your mind to it that you couldn't find innumerable things to amuse yourself."

He removed his glove and traced his fingers through the curl, trying to coax it to lie off her shoulder, back with the rest of her hair.

"Enid gave up," she said. "I suggest you do too before you lose your mind."

Leon let go, leaning with her against the wall, looking up at the sky. He said, "I heard you and Arthur had a nice day yesterday."

She snorted.

"Arthur and I had a good conversation about how to tell his father that we're not getting married. Not that I think Uther's got the message."

"Did you tell him?"

"Yes, quite plainly," she said.

"Then what's made you think he doesn't understand?"

Krysia hesitated, then tried to explain her very strange encounter with Uther in the library. Leon, too, didn't know what to make of the king's behavior, or his odd pontificating on love.

"I suppose he's very intent on keeping your lands with Camelot," Leon said softly. She looked at him in the strange light of sunset, confused by the shadows on his face. "After all, if you were to marry into another royal family—"

"I don't want to marry into another royal family," she said.

Leon's jaw twitched, and he seemed to be considering saying something to her before he said, "I do understand that Camelot is your home, Krysia. I know that. But have you ever considered…leaving to find love?"

"Leaving Camelot?" she said, amused.

In some ways, Leon was right. She could go and find Gwaine, forget about being a lady, leave everything behind except the way he made her feel. But she knew that Gwaine understood how she felt about Camelot. She knew that her destiny had something to do with Arthur. She knew that they had a future here. And he promised he'd come back for her someday.

"Impossible," she whispered. "Besides, love isn't something you should have to look for, it's something that comes to you, or grows within you. I don't know. I…"

She almost told him that she recalled her father saying once that when she met the right man, she'd know in an instant, but as she wasn't supposed to remember her family at all, that wasn't the right thing to say.

"Arthur told me a funny thing yesterday," she said, trying to redirect. "He was saying, when we agreed that there was no way we were ever getting married, he said there's already a better match for me in Camelot, one of the knights."

"Did he?" Leon said, looking genuinely startled. "Did…did he say which knight?"

"No, that's the funny thing," Krysia said, frowning. "Said it wasn't his place to say. You don't know what he's talking about, do you?"

Leon was silent for so long, she half-thought he might have fallen asleep beside her on the wall. He was instead frowning thoughtfully at the square like he was about to say something terribly important. Finally, he looked at her.

"I think the question of what's a good match for you isn't only to do with bloodlines," he said. "You deserve to be happy, to be loved, to have someone who can enjoy your pursuits and appreciate your brilliance as well as your beauty. And you deserve someone you love and enjoy and appreciate just as much. And I…I know of no one in the knights who would be that match for you, my lady."

He seemed sad, and she wanted to ask him why, but she had a feeling it was one of those things one didn't speak aloud. Instead, they stood together and watched the sun set. Krysia was sure he had somewhere he was meant to be, but she appreciated that he knew she needed not to be alone right now. She hoped that whenever Leon fell in love with someone, he didn't have any of the exhausting mess she had to deal with in her love life. One of them deserved to have simple, peaceful, pure happiness in life, and if fate was going to make things needlessly complicated for her, than the least it could do was make life simple for Leon. If the gods could hear her thoughts, that was all she could ask of them.

She took her leave when the light was so low it was hard to see the square, and Leon kissed her forehead for the first time in a while, and she puzzled over Uther's strange behavior all the way to her chambers.

A/N:

Okay, Gwaine next chapter, I swear.

-C