She could feel the weight of magic across her shoulders like a too-heavy cloak. She was permitted to walk freely from sun-height to sun-set, so long as she refrained from mentioning certain topics to any folk she spoke to. She had no coins, so could not purchase anything, and anyway physical needs were all supplied by the Tower.
These days, though, none of that mattered, for she went always to the same place.
The fields where Arthur’s knights practised.
Even that was part of the noose around her, but she didn’t care. For as long as she was allowed she’d keep contact with Galahad. He wasn’t there yet today, but that was fine. She leaned on the fence, twisting a pale green stone between her fingers.
Galahad eventually found his way to the practice field. He had the day off, but he had nothing else to do. So he sat by the others and watched as different knights paired off to practice their swordsmanship. Eventually he grew tired of that and stood.
He noticed a couple of young boys playing with wooden swords. He went over and teased a few of them then showed the younger one how to move so that his older brother wouldn’t beat him up every time.
But it was around this time that Galahad felt like someone was watching him. He glanced around at the various people watching, but he didn’t know who to look for and no one was really noticing him.
Perhaps he was just being silly.
She clutched the fence so hard she could feel the grain of the board digging into her fingertips as Galahad glanced around. He’d never seemed interested in the watchers before — was this the effect of their correspondence? But he didn’t seem to know what he was looking for, either. She wanted to raise her hand, jump up and down, attract his attention somehow.
The very thought seemed to tighten the coils of magic around her.
She wished he would go back onto the field. That was familiar.
With a quiet sigh, she turned away from the practise field, drifting back through the streets of Camelot. It was hard to pull her gaze from Galahad.