"Mother."

Gwen arched a dark eyebrow in Gwyrde's direction; his blue eyes so like Arthur's were brimmed with annoyance. "Why are we confined? It's just Father' sister."

Gwen didn't like Gwyrde's tone; it resembled the tone that Arthur used when he was annoyed with her. She didn't like it when Arthur used that tone, and she definitely didn't like her child addressing with annoyance in his voice. Especially, when this wasn't her idea.

Gwen moved directly in front of Gwydre, and she stood with her small hands resting on her trim waist. Her chocolate gaze rested firmly on Gwyrde's annoyed blues. Gwen didn't utter one word, her eyes challenged her son until he flushed red and muttered," I'm sorry, Mother."

Amhar chuckled in the background. He learned quickly that Mother was a forced to be reckoned with. She never yelled. His friends' mothers shrieked like crows. She never swatted, and he heard that swats were painful. She gave looks; long meaningful looks. Also, she made them sit in corners for endless amounts of time, or worse she took away their swords. Father was easier to deal with. He raised his voice and made us do terrible chores; Amhar preferred Father's punishments because they were quick, while Mother's were endless.

Gwen shot Amhar a stern look over her shoulder. His small hands covered his grinning mouth; Mother hadn't found out about the flour or locking Duran in the wardrobe.

Duran's small lips quivered as he watched his mother's angry face. Something was wrong, he didn't know what. He didn't like it when Mother was mad. Loud voices scared him; he was never happy when his brothers were in trouble, his little tummy rumbled in fear. Impulsively, he ran to Gwen and pressed a small kiss on her hands.

"Happy?"

Gwen closed her eyes. Maybe, Arthur was right. Morgana's return had already disturbed the children's day. No… Morgana was family. She belonged in Camelot.

"Moth," Rowan cooed from her crib. Her tiny hands banged on the side of her wooden cradle. She bounced up and down as she smiled in Gwen's direction. A tiny smiled twisted on Gwen's lips as she watched Rowan's free me from the cradle dance.

"Darling girl, we are all trapped in a cradle today. Dance some more for Father, maybe, just maybe, we'll be released."

Gwen lifted the baby from her prison and was treated to a slobbery kiss. She moved to a bright blue rug in the center of the nursery. Duran plopped down and rested his blonde head on Gwen's shoulder. Guilt flushed over Gwen, he's nibbling his lips. He's frightened. What are we going to do?

"Gwydre, please bring me a book?"

"Not a princess tales."

"You can choose."

Gwyrde's blue eyes widened as he raced to retrieve a book from a dusty shelf. Books weren't his favorite thing. What do you need to read for? He learned everything on the training field. His sword would save the day.

Gwen frowned when he spotted the Monsters of Albion book and dashed towards his mother. Carelessly, he dropped it on her lap.

"I don't know…"

"Mother, they love this book."

Gwen's hands moved across the dusty old leather bindings and turned a few pages. Duran squealed when he spotted a Siren.

"Pretty Lady!"

"No, Duran," Gwen cautioned," She's beautiful, but she sings a lovely song to lure you into her clutches. Then, she steals you away."

"Oh."

Amhar flipped a page carelessly. The children looked carefully over pictures of dragons, pixies, and unicorns. Gwen didn't mention that Arthur and Merlin had issues with Unicorns.

Gwydre laughed," Looks like Killi." Gwen shuddered in apprehension. The Great Dragon was quite fond of the children. They begged to ride his back into the sky. The request was always met with a firm "No." She ignored the sad sets of eyes including the dragon. Humans weren't meant to fly.

Duran traced a picture of a fierce ugly creature.

"Mul," Gwydre attempted to pronounce.

"Mul-e-kia," Gwen stressed for her son. "It's combination demon from another part of the world. He likes to eat noble children, babies, and mothers. However, he will eat anything if hungry."

Gwydre stood up and brandished his wooden sword," I'll slay the beast." Gwen shook her head. "Swords are not effective."

"What?"

"Mulekia can only be killed by its own reflection. If, it looks into a pool of reflecting water or a mirror."

"Stupid Demon," Amhar pronounced. Gwen arched a dark brow in his direction.

'Silly Demon."