Page 19 of Secrets of Avalon
Kellan takes the ring, no fuss, no questions. Just Mr. Strong and Silent over here.
And there’s this twisty feeling in my gut, like something’s up and I'm not in on it. What is he agreeing to do? What isn’t she telling me?
Nimue's hands are gentle as she fiddles with my hair and straightens my dress. It takes everything inside me to stand still, to not pull away from this woman I barely know and certainly don't trust.
“You’ll pass as a Drakonii in these clothes. Just try not to look anyone in the eye. They’ll–”
“Notice I’m missing the whole dragon-green-eyed-sparkle-thing?” I cut in, trying to sound tough instead of freaked. More pretending. Great. They’ve got me all decked out like a Drakonii wannabe, and now I’m supposed to play the part. “Why do I have to hide?”
“Mmmm,” she hums, but the sound isn’t soothing this time. It’s dismissive. “I know this is a lot, but it is necessary, Melinda.” She gives Kellan a look next. “You’re not going to do what I want you to do, are you?”
That wasn’t an answer to my question.
Kellan’s face is a stone wall. Doesn’t give an inch. He’s so hard to read.
“Fine. Keep her safe. I’ll be back to introduce Melinda to the courts officially during the Changing of the Guard ceremony. It will be better for her, safer, if the High Council doesn’t know about her until then.”
“You’re going to anger them with this stunt, Queen Nimue.”
Her grin is all teeth. “They need more than just a surprise. But this will be a good start.”
“I’m not here to surprise or piss off anyone,” I push back. The rush of emotions is almost too much, and I lean on Kellan, grateful for his silent strength. It’s weirdly comforting, feeling the power inside me simmer down just by standing next to him.
His hand gives mine a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here for you, Domina, not her,” he says softly, his tone a mix of warmth and promise. It’s crazy how much safer I feel with him by my side. I don’t really know him at all, but I trust him, and that’s unsettling. I never trust people this fast.
I nod, still trying to wrap my head around everything. Avalon. The deaths of my family. Other worlds. Other magick. It's surreal.
Nimue tips her chin, her queenly demeanor never slipping. “I have matters to attend to, elsewhere. Remember, whatever you do, discretion is key.” She steps back gracefully into the fountain, disappearing into the water like some kind of mystical mermaid.
Kellan's gaze follows her until she's completely gone. Then he turns to me, his eyes doing that movie-hero thing where they go from 'I could kill you with my pinky' to 'Hey, want to grab coffee?' in 0.2 seconds.
“Are you ready to see Avalon then, Domina?” he asks, a hint of something like humor in his tone. “Personally I prefer Drakoné, but I suppose Avalon is nice enough. And Camelot is quite nice for a castle.”
There’s a slight smirk on his face, making him so much more approachable, less like my personal mountain of a bodyguard who just so happens to be able to turn into an enormous dragon that could eat me.
I laugh, letting go of Kellan’s hand for the first time since we’ve arrived. My arms fold across my chest as I try to take it all in. “Nice enough? This is Camelot. Like. The. Camelot. From the legends of Merlin and King Arthur, right?” The excitement momentarily pushes away my fears and grief. This is like stepping into one of Mom’s stories.
Kellan chuckles, a sound that relaxes me even more. “The stories on earth might be slightly embellished.”
I raise an eyebrow, looking back at the fountain that was our magickal Uber, then to the majestic castle. “Slightly embellished? We just traveled through a water fountain to another world. I’m pretty sure the stories aren’t even close.”
He gestures grandly toward the open gates of Camelot. The road is bustling with people, and the sounds of music and laughter and crowds are deafening. “Welcome to Camelot, Domina. Care to do a little exploring?”
“I really would.” I grin.
Entering the castle grounds is like stepping into a medieval fairytale, or a Renaissance Faire on steroids. The sprawling courtyard is filled with stalls overflowing with goods. Artisans with leather goods. Blacksmiths ringing steel against anvils, sparks flying like fireworks in the mostly still dark sky. Colorful red banners flutter in the breeze. Jewels glitter in the torchlight. Children’s laughter floats on the breeze in the background.
"Everyone is up so early."
"They never went to bed. The days before the Changing of the Guard are one long festival. People travel from every world to be here. To trade. To eat and drink and dance."
The air is alive with an energy I can't define, rich with the scent of roasting meats and fresh-baked bread, mingling with the earthy aroma of herbs and the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.
We pass one stall where the mouthwatering smell of roasting meat makes my stomach growl loudly.
“Hungry?” He raises an eyebrow and flicks his gaze to my noisy abdomen.
“Yes, very.” I admit.