With My Last Breath, Book Three by Cori Chaffee Page B

grumbled to me. She looked at the servant girl who was patiently waiting for further orders.
    ‚You may go,' she nodded kindly to the girl. The girl turned and walked down the steps leading to the gallery and Guinevere looked back to me.
    ‚Well? What say you? We do not have time for this.'
    ‚What would you like me to say, mother?' I stared at her in exasperation.
    Aphrodite had such a tendency to work herself up into a frenzy and expected that her agitation would spill to everyone around her. And sometimes it did. But not today.
    ‚Yes, we have more important things to do. But we cannot help that right this moment. Our absence from this joust would be missed. We will resume our search for Courtney Cole 59
    With My Last Breath, Book Three
    the sword tonight after this tournament. I wish to search this castle from top to bottom before we hunt away from here. It makes no sense otherwise.'
    Guinevere finished tying a bow on the banister in front of me and stopped, pausing to survey the area in front of us. The arena was empty and quiet, the bleachers free of people. She sighed.
    ‚I know you are right,' she murmured. ‚I’m sorry for adding to your stress. I know you must be anxious already. You are correct. We will thoroughly search the palace grounds before we search elsewhere.'
    As we descended the wooden steps from the gallery tower, I tossed my hair out of my face and as I did, I caught sight of Morgan sitting in the far seats of the arena, back in a darkened corner. Hunched with her, his head to hers, was Mordred. My blood turned cold as I stopped moving. My mother ran into my back, and I felt her follow my gaze, then heard her sharp intake of breath.
    They were talking animatedly; Morgan was throwing her hands around wildly and finally Mordred stood, glaring down at her in agitation before barking something at her. He stood still for a moment and then stalked down the wooden walkway and across the field back to the palace.
    Morgan watched him go and then she turned her head, meeting my gaze. Her eyes were dark and stormy and froze into mine. I felt as though I would ignite from the heat emanating from her glare. Finally, she turned her head and leaped to her feet, flouncing away in the opposite direction. Her dark cloak swirled around her and I watched her disappear in the tunnels under the arena.
    ‚What was the about?' my mother whispered in my ear.
    ‚That is a good question,' I answered. ‚The two of them together is a worrisome combination.' She nodded in agreement, but we didn’t have time left to continue the conversation. People from nearby villages were beginning to arrive for the evening’s joust.
    I sighed as I settled into my chair, watching the stands fill up with peasants, farmers and noblemen. To our right, Reagan and his stable boys led out the knights’ horses. All of them were decorated festively, with masks and ribbons while banners draped from their backs. Pageantry was a large part of jousting. Every action was steeped in tradition, going back hundreds of years. It was a celebration of honor and chivalry and Arthur thought that it was a good reminder to the people of what he stood for.
    Arthur himself was laughing with Sir Tristan a few yards from us. They were both already wearing their armor, each of them holding their helmets in their hands as they talked. Tristan’s sandy blonde hair curled around his shoulders, his brown eyes warm as they twinkled with jest. He was typically a quiet man, very thoughtful in everything that he did. But he was very loyal to the king and just as deadly as anyone else seated on the roundtable.
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    Arthur slapped Tristan on the back, his hand clanging against the metal, before he turned and walked quickly for Guinevere. Bounding easily up the steps, mindless of the heavy armor, he knelt in front of his queen.
    ‚My lady, may I wear your favors?'
    His cornflower blue eyes beseeched her and I saw just a