“Merlin knew I was unhappy for a long time,” said Guinevere.

“Father adored you,” Tedros shot back. “He decorated the castle with your portraits, brought you the most extravagant gifts from his quests, and lavished you with attention and affection. He never raised his voice to you or laid a hand on you or deprived you of anything and now you’re acting like he was some madman in the attic. So what if he had a few bad habits? No relationship is perfect. Look at me and Agatha—”

“The difference is that Agatha loves you back.”

Her answer disarmed him. Tedros exhaled. “Mother, you couldn’t have been unhappy enough to abandon your own son.”

“I know. That’s why I stayed with your father much longer than I should have,” Guinevere replied. “Believe me when I say I was well educated in the values of Good. I’d been trained by a Dean far less progressive than yours to put king and kingdom first. I knew full well that no one would forgive a queen who absconds with a knight from her king’s court, and for good reason. Even if Lancelot was my true love, the idea of going off with him felt childish, selfish, and deeply Evil. I had a duty to keep my family together.”

“Exactly,” said Tedros.

“It wasn’t as if I could take you with me,” said Guinevere. “That’d be unfair to you, to your father, and a kingdom that needed its future king—”

“Not just unfair, but unconscionable,” Tedros piled on.

“Which is why I told all this to Merlin, hoping he’d condemn such sinful thoughts and force me to focus on the life I’d chosen, not the one I kept imagining.” His mother paused. “Instead he asked me if I so desperately wanted to leave Camelot, why I was still there.”

Tedros looked at her, agog.

“Why? Because you have a child! You have a husband! Because that’s what you’re supposed to do! How could he ask you such a stupid question! It’s a matter of right and wrong!”

“I was even harsher,” his mother concurred. “I said only a man would have so little regard for a woman’s sense of duty. How irresponsible to think this was simply a matter of choice. I couldn’t just dump my old life and start a new one. How would I wake up every day knowing I’d left a son behind? He’s my child! He’s my blood!”

“He needs you,” Tedros fought—

“He needs my help,” Guinevere finished.

Both of them were quiet, looking into each other’s eyes.

“What did Merlin say?” Tedros asked tightly.

Guinevere’s eyes glistened. “He just looked at me and said: ‘Who’s helping who?’”

Tedros shook his head. “I don’t under—”

But he did. His soul did. Tears stung his eyes, washing away his anger.