I was given to Arthur with a piece of furniture – a table, to be precise – as my dowry. He ended up preferring the table.
I’m quite sure he only insisted on marrying me because Merlin told him I was trouble. Arthur always did enjoy the notion of a challenge. Merlin knew, you see, and wanted to protect his precious Arthur. He knew all this would happen with Launcelot and me. The old trickster.
But Merlin, much as he saw, had a very serious blind spot when it came to Arthur’s family. It is they that he should have paid closer attention to – Arthur’s half sisters, to be precise. Arthur created a monster (and here I don’t think I’m being too severe) when he committed that most ungodly of deeds – incest – with his half sister Morgause, and she later gave birth to a son, Mordred. They think I am ignorant of this fact, but I have many eyes and ears in this court. Just looking at that boy makes me shiver with fear. He’ll be trouble, mark my words.
I never could bring myself to touch Arthur after that. But I was still young, so young! Full of life, and wild passions, yet trapped, wasted, untouched. Bought by Arthur’s great name and his little love.
But then… him. Multitudes upon multitudes of women swooned over Launcelot – for his dark beauty, his prowess and chivalry, and his mysterious fey-touched upbringing by the Lady of the Lake. They said he’d never been overcome in battle, unless by treason or enchantment. I rolled my eyes to myself when I heard tell of his reputation, determined not to be impressed (I have always been of a contrary disposition). He arrived at court and the furore was unbelievable. All over one man! No one could be that impressive.
We held a great tournament, and as predicted, Launcelot won the day. As was customary, he dedicated all of his deeds of arms to me, as his queen. His performance had been undeniably impressive and I started to understand what the fuss was about.
But it was later, when evening fell as soft as a caress: the candles had been lit and the little insects had started their chorus, that I understood the true worth of the man. On that balmy summer night, full of hinted promise, Launcelot walked with me around my gardens. Peacocks wandered underneath the trees. Alone, all of his bravado melted away, and we were just a man and a woman, talking. We laughed, and the world itself sparkled. He truly saw me – my strengths and my flaws, all. And he loved me. It is the greatest gift of my admittedly privileged life.
Words, and a few stolen kisses, were all that we enjoyed for some time. We both fought against this adulterous, treacherous fate. But fate goes ever as it must, and eventually we became lovers. Launcelot is the truest lover that ever lived. I know women constantly throw themselves at his feet, but I also know, as surely as I know my own name, that he will never love another but me, in heart, mind or body. Something I certainly never had with Arthur.
Our love is not easy. We are often apart. Admittedly, I have a tendency to caprice and whimsy, and can make Launcelot’s life difficult in many ways, but missing someone constantly can make us behave in strange ways, and he understands that as he understands me. My bigger concern is that I’m sure Arthur’s nephews know about us… They will make trouble for us one day, no doubt. I have seen Agravain watching from dark corners as Launcelot and I talk. I have seen him whispering wickedly with Mordred. But there is absolutely no way that I am going to give up the most precious part of my life. I have too few other joys.
Some say that Launcelot and I will be the downfall of Arthur and Camelot. To them I say: have you not seen the many other fractures in this place; the wicked things that go on here, and the wicked people? Launcelot and I are the purest thing in this whole wretched kingdom, and no matter what else happens, I know that we will meet a good end, because our love is true.