After almost a year, I have finally updated! Please review and let me know what you think.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Zephaniah? What are you…You've been gone…" Galahad could not comprehend what he was seeing. He had not seen the young woman in over eight months and now she was standing in front of him, a basket draped over her arm. It was odd seeing Zephaniah after all these months. The original attraction that Galahad had for her was now gone in the wake of his love for Juliana.

Her eyes moved over his face, drinking in his features, before resting on the hay strewn floor.

"There is something I must tell you." She whispered, her eyes downcast as if ashamed by something. She shifted the basket on her arm, and Galahad noticed that there was a rather large bundle hidden beneath the cloth that covered the basket.

"There's a reason I've been gone so long." Zephaniah continued. She played with the edge of the cloth.

"What?" Curiosity was getting the better of Galahad, and patience had never been one of his strong suits.

"There's someone you have to meet, Galahad." Zephaniah said, her eyes finally meeting his. She lifted up the cloth. "I want you to meet…your son."

Juliana hurried towards the stables, knowing that that was where she would find Galahad. She had been stubborn for far too long. Seeing Guinevere with her husband and new born child had been the push that Juliana needed to finally get past her stubbornness and realize that the life she wished for was within her grasp if only she would reach for it. Galahad was more than she could ever have hoped for herself, but she had been too wrapped up in her old life to see that. She loved him more than she thought she could ever love someone and now it was time to make that love known.

Nothing would stop her this time. This time she was going to let Galahad into her life completely. True he was not a Christian and did not even care to know God, but Juliana was certain that that would change. She could bring him to God. Was that not her reason for being in Camelot in the first place? And who better to bring a man to Christ than his own wife? Juliana was ready for the task. She could be both wife and believe. And, given time, Galahad would come to believe as she did. Of that Juliana had no doubt.

Pausing outside of the stable, Juliana checked her reflection in the rain barrel. Loose strands of hair clung to her sweat drenched brow. There was nothing to be done about that now. Quickly tucking the hair behind her ear, Juliana straightened her skirts and walked slowly to the stable door. She did not want to appear in a rush to see Galahad.

The sound of voices gave Juliana pause. A distinctly feminine voice wafted out the door. There was something vaguely familiar about the voice. Something that did not set right with Juliana. A voice that Juliana knew to be Galahad's joined the woman's and Juliana could feel her heart beating roughly inside her chest. What were they conversing about? Galahad's voice sounded strained and the woman's sounded no better. Then she heard it, the word that, just a few moments ago had given Arthur such joy. Son. But this was no royal heir. No, this son was Galahad's. And Juliana knew who the woman was.

Eyes burning with tears that would not fall, Juliana backed slowly away from the stable doors, careful not to make a sound as she made her retreat. When she was at a safe enough distance, Juliana let her feet carry her as swiftly as they pleased away from the courtyard and the final barrier between herself and Galahad.

Son. The word echoed through Galahad's thoughts. He had a son. The very idea was a crushing blow, but that blow was nothing compared to the sight of his child. The infant, barely a month old, lay peacefully asleep in the basket. His pale skin a beacon in the dim light of the stable. A few dark wisps of hair were curling atop his head. Galahad knew, without a doubt, that this was his child. He couldn't help wishing, however, that this was nothing more than a dream, a nightmare that he would soon wake from.

He continued to stare at the child. It's little fist waved in sleep, rubbing it's tightly closed eyes. Despite himself, Galahad felt his heart yearn to hold the little boy; his arms ached to feel his son's weight in his arms.

As if she could read his thoughts, Zephaniah held the basket out to him.

"Would you like to hold him?" She asked, a nervous smile on her lips. Galahad tore his eyes from the child to the mother. He nodded and with shaky arms reached for the child.

Cradling the child in his arms, Galahad held him as if he would break at the slightest touch.

"His name is Aaron." Zephaniah said.

"Hello, Aaron." Galahad whispered to his son. The child stirred in his arms, little eyelids fluttered open and pale blue eyes stared back at him. Galahad felt his heart stirring as he looked into those eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. A lump formed in his throat.

Not until he'd met Juliana had Galahad ever wished for a son. Now he had a son, but the mother was the wrong woman. Galahad wished that he could erase his past mistakes and that, when he looked up, it would be Juliana smiling at him and not Zephaniah. But Galahad had no hope in wishing, his mistakes were there in front of him, in his arms and standing before him.

Closing his eyes, Galahad forced the bitterness to leave his heart. But it would not budge, the bitterness was there to stay, stuck, in his chest as a constant reminder that he had ruined any chance of happiness for himself.

"Take him." Galahad thrust the child back to Zephaniah, his bitterness seeping into his words. Zephaniah's eyes filled with tears as she took his actions as rejection of their child. But rejection was the last thing on Galahad's mind. He wanted nothing more than to take his son back in his arms and never let him go. But that could not be. Galahad was punishing himself for his stupid actions and it would go against his punishment for him to continue to hold his son.

Zephaniah could not read his thoughts, however, and she fled the stable with unshed tears in her eyes, Aaron's basket held protectively in front of her.

Galahad swore loudly as she disappeared. The anger boiled inside of him and he kicked at a stack of hay. His mind in turmoil, he fell onto the hay feeling it poke into his back and scratch his unprotected arms. Aaron's face floated in his mind's eye. The child was so innocent, it didn't deserve the life of a bastard. Galahad sat up and dropped his head in his hands. There was no end to the thoughts that warred within his mind. What was he supposed to do? Should he claim Aaron as his son or leave the child and Zephaniah alone? Should he marry Zephaniah? And what about Juliana? What was going to happen to her, what would she think, when she found out Galahad had a son?

Pain – emotional, physical, and spiritual – consumed Galahad. What was he going to do?

The church doors loomed large. Like Roman sentries guarding the emperor, they stood, blocking the way to the last ray of hope in a dark world. Once holding only love and comfort, these doors now were a symbol of failure. Her failure.

Her whole sojourn into life outside the convent had been a mistake.

Mistake. Failure.

The words echoed in her thoughts. She was a failure, that much was true. She had ventured out into the world, hoping beyond hope that she could change the man she had come to love. But it had not happened. Instead he had fathered a child with a woman who was not Juliana. More than anything, Juliana wished that she could have been the one to carry Galahad's child. She wanted that, she wanted to be a mother, a wife. And she wanted her husband, the father of her children, to be Galahad. But that couldn't be, not now. Juliana was convinced, now more than ever, that she would never be with Galahad. He had a commitment to make, and that commitment was to another woman.

The time for dreaming and hoping was over. Taking a determined step towards the doors, Juliana opened them slowly. It was time to face reality and own up to her mistakes. It was time to return to her rightful place.