Part 21: link


    Arthur studies the names on the mailboxes in his new apartment building. It reads like an eastern European phone book, he thinks, noting many of the names end in ski ou vich ou have plus consonants than would seem necessary. He places the sticker that says Pendragon on his – their – mailbox, between Peplinski and Dobschuetz.
    “It looks very British there,” he mumbles.
    “What was that, Baby?” Gwen asks, taking his hand. Uther, Alice, and Morgana had just left. Arthur promised he would bring Gwen back to the house later, and that they would behave themselves.
    “Just noting the names on the mailboxes and how mine seems to stick out a bit,” he says.
    “How so?” Gwen asks, pressing the elevator button.
    “It’s not Polish ou German.”
    “And?”
    “Just an observation. It’s just interesting to me how like-minded people tend to congregate. I mean, surely everyone who has moved to this country from Poland didn’t settle in Milwaukee.”
    Gwen laughs. “People go where they’ve got kin, Arthur. If your uncle wasn’t here, would toi have chosen this city?”
    The elevator doors ping and open.
    “I don’t know. Probably not,” he shrugs, following her into the elevator. “You’re far too intelligent, toi know that?”
    “I thought that was one of the things toi loved about me,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her. Challenging.
    “One of the many things, my love,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. He feels her arms uncross between them and hug his waist. He sighs. “I can’t wait to carry toi through that doorway,” he says, s’embrasser her hair.
    “Just a few plus weeks, Baby.”
    They step out of the elevator and go the short distance down the corridor to what is currently Arthur’s apartment and what will be their apartment in four weeks.
    As they reach the door, a middle-aged couple emerges from the door across the hall.
    “Hello,” Arthur greets them. Gwen follows suit.
    “Oh, hello,” the man says. “You must be the new people,” he says.
    “Well, right now it’s just me. Arthur Pendragon,” he introduces himself, extending his hand. “This is my fiancée, Guinevere.”
    “I’ll be movin’ in after we’re married,” Gwen says, shaking the man’s hand as well.
    “Harry Peplinski,” the man says. “This is my wife, Evelyn.”
    “Hello,” Evelyn says. “Call me Evie.”
    “I generally go par Gwen,” Gwen says, smiling at the woman. They seem very nice, she thinks.
    “Welcome,” Harry says. “We’d chat longer, but we have dîner reservations, I’m afraid,” he says.
    “Don’t let us keep you, then,” Arthur says. “Nice meeting you.”
    “Pendragon,” Harry pauses a minute and says. “You related to the lawyer Pendragon?”
    “My uncle, yes. I joined his firm when we moved up here,” Arthur says, magically producing a card and handing it to him.
    “Oh, um, thanks,” Harry says, looking briefly at it before passing it to his wife. She tucks it into her purse.
    “Arthur,” Gwen says, sighing at him. “Enjoy your dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Peplinski,” she says, pulling Arthur’s elbow.
    “Thank you, Gwen,” Evie says, smiling knowingly at them.
    “Where did toi pull that card from?” Gwen asks Arthur as he opens the door.
    “I always have some on me, didn’t toi know that?”
    “Well, no, I don’t go rootin’ through your pockets,” she chuckles, looking around the still rather empty apartment.
    “Maybe toi should sometime. toi might be surprised,” he says suggestively, pulling her into his arms.
    “Arthur!” she exclaims, giggling.
    “For example, if toi go rootin’ around now, toi might find…” he takes her hand and slides it into his left hip pocket.
    “Arthur, what—” she starts, not sure if she should be putting her hands in his pants pockets. Then her fingers find something flat and metal. She nabs it between two of her fingers and withdraws it. “A key?”
    “The other key to this apartment. For you.”
    “I don’t need a key yet, Arthur.”
    “Why not?” he asks, angling his head at her.
    “Because I don’t live here.”
    “But I do, and what’s mine is yours. And toi will be living here soon enough. And I want toi to have that key, all right?”
    “Well, since toi feel so strongly about it,” she says, taking the key over and putting it in her manteau pocket.
    “I do,” he says. He’s pouting a little.
    “What’s that face?” Gwen asks.
    “That’s my I-can’t-believe-I-had-to-convince-you-to-take-that-key face,” he says.
    “I’m sorry, Baby. I was just surprised. What with toi shovin’ my hand in your pocket and all.” She leans up and kisses him, her arms looped around his neck.
    “Mmm.” Arthur wraps his arms around her, holding her close.
    She pulls back before he starts getting ideas. Maybe later. “It’s so empty in here,” she says.
    “That’s all right. I really didn’t give toi much time to find furniture for me,” he says.
    “And toi were supposed to be helpin’ me,” she chides, putting her hands on her hips.
    She’s gotten him a lit so he’d at least have a place to sleep, but so far she hasn’t found anything else she likes. Even so, it’s just a mattress and box spring on a frame.
    “I know, I’m sorry,” he says, sitting on one of the two chairs in the living room. Chairs borrowed from Gaius and Alice’s basement. “Next weekend we’ll go. Everyone keeps tellin’ me that we should drive down to Racine to this place called Porter’s. They’re supposed to have some real nice things.”
    “How far is that?” Gwen asks. She’s about to sit in the other chair, but Arthur pulls her into his lap.
    “Not far. It’s just the suivant city to the south. We’ll go suivant Saturday, okay?”
    “Okay,” Gwen says. “Hopefully the weather will be nice.”
    “Are toi hungry? Alice stocked me up here,” he says.
    “A bit, yes.”

xXx

    After dîner Arthur manages to convince Gwen that they should relax for a bit in the bedroom, claiming that they’d have plus room to stretch out on the lit and it would be plus comfortable than the chairs in the living room.
    “Don’t think for a minute I don’t see right through you, Arthur Pendragon,” Gwen says, laughing, as he pulls her into the bedroom.
    “Actually, I wanted to talk to toi about one small detail we seem to be forgetting,” he says, lying down on the lit and patting the mattress beside him.
    “We really should be unpackin’ these boxes,” Gwen says.
    “Tomorrow,” he waves his hand dismissively.
    “So what have we been forgettin’?” Gwen asks, curling against Arthur’s side.
    “Honeymoon,” Arthur says, leaning over to Kiss her forehead.
    “Oh! You’re right!” Gwen exclaims. “Been so busy movin’ and gettin’ settled and movin’ again that I didn’t even think about that.”
    “It’s a bit late to plan somethin’ right away, but maybe in a few months,” Arthur suggests. “Go someplace warm in, oh, March, right when we’re gettin’ good and sick o’ the cold weather…” he muses, stroking Gwen’s arm lightly with his fingertips.
    “Someplace warm?” Gwen says, sounding interested.
    “Or wherever toi like. Is there someplace you’ve always wanted to go?”
    “There are a lot of places I’ve always wanted to go,” she says.
    “Well, then, we’ll hit them all. We have years ahead of us,” he says.
    Gwen looks up at him. He is amazingly sweet sometimes. She kisses him softly, smiling at him.
    “What was that for?” he asks quietly.
    “For toi being so wonderful,” she says. He kisses her nose.
    “So where?” he asks.
    “Hawaii?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
    “Excellent,” Arthur says, smiling broadly. “Just what I was hoping for.”
    “Really?”
    He nods excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to go there, too.”
    “You haven’t been there, then?”
    “No.”
    “I haven’t been anywhere,” Gwen says with a sigh.
    “We’ll take care of that.”
    “Should I make a list?” she asks, teasing.
    “Yes,” he answers, seriously. He looks down at her and traces her jaw with his finger, lifting her chin.
    “You’re serious,” she says softly.
    “I am,” he says, swooping down to Kiss her now. “I want to give toi anything toi wish for, Guinevere,” he whispers between kisses. “All toi have to do is ask and I’ll déplacer heaven and earth to make it happen.”
    “You’re the only thing I want, Arthur,” she answers, stroking his cheek as she returns his kisses.
    “You can have that, too,” he murmurs, moving over her, his hand sliding on her waist. Her lips part beneath his, meeting his probing tongue with her own.
    Gwen runs her fingers through his hair, holding his head lightly with one hand while her other splays on his back.
    “Oh,” she breathes when he breaks the kiss, moving to her ear, nibbling lightly. She turns her head to give him better access, sighing contentedly.
    “I know what you’re doin’ there, Arthur,” she says, smiling as his lips skim down her neck.
    “What am I doin’?” he asks.
    “Thinkin’ you’re distractin’ me so I don’t notice you’re unbuttonin’ my blouse.”
    He lifts his head and grins guiltily at her. “You know all toi have to do is say stop and I will,” he says, s’embrasser her lips once.
    “Do toi hear me sayin’ stop?”
    Arthur groans and returns his lips to her neck, amazed that he’s got her chemisier almost all the way open without protest.
    Is it possible that she’s getting as anxious as I am? he wonders. Is that even possible, though?
    He kisses down her neck to her collarbone, tracing it with his tongue as he boldly slips his hand inside her shirt, against the taut skin of her stomach.
    “Mmm,” Gwen says, squirming beneath him a bit. Arthur kisses her breasts around her bra, marveling in the softness of her skin beneath his lips and hand.
    “So soft,” he mutters, moving his hand up to cup her breast, pushing it slightly upward into his lips, stroking over the material of her bra.
    I wonder if she’d let me slip my hand in… no, I’d better not.
    Gwen’s hands slide down his back and she grabs his rear again, squeezing once before sliding back up.
    “You can touch plus if toi want,” Arthur says, flexing his hips almost unconsciously against her. He kisses up to her lips again.
    “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she answers, s’embrasser him back.
    His eyes drop down, roaming over her torso, at the flawless skin beneath her shirt. “Probably not,” he groans. “And I think we’d better button toi up before I lose my mind.”
    “You don’t think I’m… easy, do you? toi know, for lettin’ toi go this far before we’re married?” Gwen asks as she buttons her blouse, sitting up.
    “What? Of course not,” Arthur says, shifting slightly uncomfortably on the bed, his jeans pinching uncomfortably now. “We’re going to be married in less than a month, Guinevere. It’s not like we just met and this is our first date. We’re not doin’ anything wrong ou scandalous at all.”
    “Me neither,” she admits, grinning. “The only… romantic conseil my mama gave me was ‘keep your knees together ’til you’re married.’”
    “But she didn’t say anything about unbuttoning a blouse?” Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow at her.
    Gwen shakes her head now, trying not to smile. I wonder if I should tell him that I have been intentionally wearing button-down blouses instead of sweaters ou something that goes over my head.
    “What are toi blushin’ at over there?” he asks, puzzling at her.
    “Nothing. Just thinkin’ about you.”
    He gives her a sideways look, but lets it go.

xXx

    Tuesday morning, Gwen has an interview at Bryant Elementary School. She sits and waits while the principal looks over her résumé and application. He’s youngish for a principal, a little heavyset, with kind eyes.
    “You’ve moved here from Memphis, I see,” he says, setting the papers down.
    “Yes, sir. I taught kindergarten at lincoln Elementary, as it says there.”
    “May I ask why toi moved to Milwaukee?” he asks, leaning vers l'avant, vers l’avant on his elbows.
    “Well, sir, as toi are no doubt aware, the south is still draggin’ its feet when it comes to issues like integration and civil rights.”
    He nods. She continues.
    “My fiancé and I moved up here because we would not be allowed to get married in Tennessee,” she states bluntly. She had decided on the way over that if asked, she would be straightforward.
    “Oh?” the principal asks, raising his eyebrows.
    “Yes, sir. My fiancé is white,” she says, holding his gaze.
    He blinks a few times. “That’s very Rebelle of you,” he finally says.
    “I know. Rebelle ou foolish, sometimes I don’t know which.” She smiles then.
    “You regret moving?”
    “Not for one minute.”
    “Then it’s not foolish. Will toi be getting your teaching certification in this state?”
    “I plan on it, yes,” she nods. “In the meantime, I’m fine being an aide ou helping out in any capacity. I probably can’t be a substitute, though.”
    “Sadly, no. The aide position I have available is only part time,” he says.
    “I have no problem with that.”
    “Oh, okay. What does your fiancé do?” he asks.
    He’s nosy. “He’s a lawyer.”
    “Interesting,” he says. “When is the wedding?”
    “The 30th,” she says.
    “Over Thanksgiving?”
    “My brother will be able to come up then,” she says. Not that it’s your business.
    “I see. And will toi be taking a honeymoon?”
    “Not until spring, sir.”
    He seems to notice her puzzling over his questions. “I’m sorry, Miss Thompson, I’m just trying to get a feel for who toi are, and you’re playing things very close to the vest. Forgive the personal questions. But I’m also trying to figure out if your scheduled activities will conflict with the school’s needs.”
    Does that mean he’s going to hire me? “Oh. Sorry, sir. As toi can imagine, I’ve been through a lot this month, so my guard might be up a little.”
    “Yes, I imagine toi have,” he says. “Well, I would like to offer toi the job, so toi can relax.”
    That’s certainly unusual. Maybe it’s different because it’s just an aide position. “Oh! Um, thank you, sir,” Gwen says.
    “Anthony,” he says, holding his hand out. “Welcome to Bryant, Miss Thompson.”
    “Gwen,” she says, shaking his hand.
    He looks at her a minute. “It might interest toi to know that there is already a movement underway to integrate the schools in Milwaukee. Perhaps toi might be interested in getting involved,” he says.
    “Yes, I’d like that very much. My fiancé specializes in civil rights law, in fact, and I’m sure he’d be willing to help out in any way he can, too.”
    “That would be nice,” he nods. He tries not to let the surprise montrer on his face, but doesn’t quite achieve it.
    “He’s been working with Isaac Helios to get established in that particular specialty,” Gwen explains. “He officially works at Pendragon Law, but Mr. Helios is helping him out.”
    “Pendragon is a prestigious firm,” Anthony says. “Is he a Pendragon?”
    “Yes, actually. His father runs the Memphis office and his uncle is in charge of the Milwaukee office.”
    “Oh, I didn’t know there were two,” he says.
    “Neither did I, before,” Gwen chuckles.

xXx

    The week before the wedding, President Kennedy is shot. The country is in shock. Things shut down. People stay accueil with their families, glued to the television, hoping for updates, clinging to the hope that he might have survived.
    But people rarely recover from a gunshot wound to the head. Even presidents.
    Arthur holds Guinevere in his arms on the canapé at Gaius’ house. They closed the office and came home. Gwen was already accueil with Alice.
    They don’t have words. The president was so young. He filled everyone with so much hope. He supported integration and civil rights, speaking out and jouer la comédie out against racial intolerance.
    “He stopped Governor Wallace when he tried to prevent those little colored girls from goin’ to school,” Gwen says softly.
    “We can only pray that Johnson continues vers l'avant, vers l’avant with his proposed civil rights legislation,” Arthur says, reaching down to gently wipe the silent tears that are falling down her cheeks. “If it gets Lost in the confusion and uproar caused par his death, that would be a real injustice to both his memory and people everywhere.”

xXx

    “Here! Turn here!” Merlin exclaims, pointing frantically with one hand, waving a sheet of paper with the other.
    Elyan slams on the brakes of his trucks and cranks the wheel. “I hope the directions Arthur gave toi are right. I’m mighty hungry.”
    “Well, toi can stop the truck; we’re here.”
    Elyan pulls to the side, parking along the curb. He and Merlin climb down from the cabine of his truck and stretch their stiff bodies.
    “Next time I’m flyin’,” Merlin says.
    “Come on, man, I need to take a leak,” Elyan says, slapping Merlin’s shoulder lightly.
    The two men enter Althea’s Soul nourriture Kitchen. Several heads regard Merlin with interest. He’s used to this, and just nods affably at them. They return to their coffee.
    “Hello, boys, toi lookin’ for somethin’ to eat? Goodness, toi look like toi could use a meal, baby.” Althea comes striding out to greet them, clucking at the thin Merlin.
    “Yes, can we just sit anywhere?” Elyan asks.
    “Anywhere includin’ my lap, sugar,” Althea winks at him. He chuckles and the two of them find a table.
    Thea brings them menus. “If toi want somethin’ toi don’t see on the menu, toi just let Miss Thea know. Can I get toi somethin’ to drink?”
    “Ooo, sweet tea,” Elyan says, surprised to see it on the menu.
    “Just water for me, please, ma’am,” Merlin says.
    “Excuse me,” Elyan says, standing and going to the restroom.
    “Where toi from, sugar?” Thea asks, putting her hands on her hips.
    “Ireland, originally. But most recently, Memphis.”
    Thea cocks her head at him. “Memphis, toi say?”
    Merlin nods, grinning a little.
    “I’m gonna go get your drinks, and when I come back toi better tell me why y’all are the seconde group o’ people I seen come through here from Memphis in a month’s time,” she says, waving a finger at him.
    “I will,” Merlin calls after her. He didn’t want to tell her who they were without Elyan there.
    “Better,” Elyan says. “Don’t toi need to go?”
    “In a minute. Miss Thea is on to us, I think,” he chuckles.
    “What did toi do?”
    “Nothing! She just asked where we were from and I told her.”
    A moment later, Althea returns, drinks in hand. “Now. Miss Thea needs her gossip.”
    “Well, Miss Thea, my name is Elyan, and I’m supposed to tell toi that I’m Guinevere’s brother,” Elyan says, offering his hand.
    “Guinevere… pretty little light-skinned thing with a gorgeous blonde white boy fallin’ all over her?” Thea asks. Elyan laughs and nods.
    “That would be my best mate Arthur,” Merlin chimes in. “I’m Merlin, par the way. So toi remember them?”
    “How could I forget them?” Thea pulls up a chair now. “Y’all joinin’ them up north?”
    “Naw, we just goin’ up for the weddin’,” Elyan says. “I gotta give my big sister away since we got no other kin, toi know.”
    “Ooo, child, toi don’t know how happy that makes me. I been prayin’ for them since they left here,” she says. “Oh, Lord, I’m sorry, what can I bring toi to eat?”
    Elyan glances at Merlin, who smirks.
    “Bring us whatever toi think we should have, Miss Thea,” Elyan says.
    “Baby, toi don’t know what toi just said,” she says, chuckling. She takes their menus and strides back to the kitchen.
    “She’s a character,” Merlin says.
    “Gwen warned me that she was,” Elyan says.
    “What time will we get there, do toi think?” Merlin asks.
    “Probably ’round three, if we don’t stop too much more. Gwen promised that we’d get Thanksgiving dîner when we got there, too.”
    “Yeah, mate, you’ve mentioned that about six times now,” Merlin laughs. “I’ll be back.” He stands and heads to the restroom.
    Merlin returns a few minutes later and Thea emerges from the cuisine shortly after that.
    “Now, it’s a little early for lunch, but toi boys look like toi need some chicken and dumplings.” She sets two plates in front of them, heaped with food.
    “I l’amour you,” Merlin says, leaning in to smell the delicious aromas wafting from his plate.
    “Sugar, spend a week with me and toi won’t be runnin’ ’round lookin’ like no refugee no more. Now toi eat that all up,” she commands.
    Elyan laughs. “You never seen Merlin eat, Miss Thea. His mama can cook; he’s just skinny.”
    “And I guarantee toi I’ll clean this plate and maybe even be askin’ for more,” Merlin says, grinning at her.
    “We’ll see about that,” Althea says, walking away to let them eat in peace, even though she has a million questions she’d like to ask them.
    “This is so good,” Merlin says.
    “I know. Makes me miss Gwen’s cooking. She told me she’s makin’ some things for Thanksgiving.”
    “Mmm, like what?” Merlin asks, mouth full.
    “What did she tell me… greens, cornbread… oh, fried okra…”
    “Yum,” Merlin says.
    “You like fried okra?”
    “Love it. Anything else?”
    “Sweet potato pie.”
    “Between this meal and that one, I’ll be able to die happy,” Merlin says.
    “Naw, man toi gotta get yourself a lady first,” Elyan says.
    “Why is it that Toya couldn’t come again?” Merlin asks.
    “Her mama didn’t want her spendin’ all that time alone with us. She don’t trust me yet, and she don’t know you. Thinks we’d be up to no good.”
    “Ah, yes, the unscrupulous boyfriend and his suspicious white friend,” Merlin nods.
    “Man, there ain’t nothin’ suspicious about you,” Elyan laughs. “But unfortunately Toya’s mama don’t know that.” He sighs and takes a drink. “I ain’t even slept with her,” Elyan admits.
    “Good for you, mate,” Merlin says. “Maybe Arthur and Gwen will have to come back to Memphis for your wedding soon, hey?”
    Elyan shrugs. “Maybe. I ain’t decided yet.”
    “Yes, toi have,” Merlin says, chuckling now.
    “How is everything?” Thea asks, arriving surprisingly quietly. She has a glass pitcher in each hand and refills their drinks.
    “Brilliant,” Merlin says. “So good.”
    Elyan nods, his mouth full.
    Thea smiles and leaves them again to tend some other customers.
    Merlin finishes his meal and asks for dessert.
    Thea laughs loudly, delighted.
    “I warned you,” he says.
    “All right, sugar, I got just the thing for you. How about you?” she asks Elyan.
    “No, ma’am, I am sho’nuff full,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
    Thea returns with some pêche, peach cordonnier for Merlin, warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. She sits with them again.
    “Have toi heard from them much?” she asks.
    “I talk to Gwen every Sunday,” Elyan says. “She a dit they had a few trials, but she’s happy there. They’re stayin’ with Arthur’s aunt and uncle, and she says they’s good people.”
    “Well, Arthur’s got an apartment, but Gwen’s staying with the aunt and uncle till after the wedding. She’s become good Friends with Arthur’s cousin Morgana, too,” Merlin chimes in. “This is amazin’, Miss Thea,” he says.
    “I can tell par the way you’re wolfin’ it down,” Thea laughs. “They got jobs?”
    “Arthur’s a lawyer, so he had one before they even got there. His uncle has a law firm,” Merlin says.
    “Well that’s handy,” Thea says.
    “His daddy has one down in Memphis,” Elyan adds. “So he just went from the Memphis Pendragon Law to the Milwaukee Pendragon Law.”
    “They’re all lawyers,” Merlin says, “even Morgana.”
    “Ain’t his daddy goin’ to the weddin’?” Thea asks.
    “Yeah, he’s flyin’ out tomorrow. Didn’t want to drive with us,” Merlin says.
    “I don’t blame him. I’d fly, too, if I was rich like him,” Elyan adds.
    Thea laughs. “What about Gwen? She got a job?”
    “She just started workin’ as an aide in a school. She’s a teacher, but she’s gotta get… somethin’…”
    “Certification,” Merlin says.
    “Yeah. Certification to teach in Wisconsin before she can be a teacher again. Not that she needs to work. Arthur’s got loads o’ cash.”
    “Well, maybe she wants to keep busy. Idle hands, toi know,” Thea says. “But they’re happy?”
    “Yes,” Merlin says, and Elyan nods. “They seem to be very happy.”
    “Good enough for Miss Thea,” she nods and stands to clear their plates. “I best let y’all get on the road. They’ll be waitin’ for you.”
    “We got Thanksgiving dîner waitin’ for us, too,” Merlin says. “They waited so we could rejoindre them.”
    “That’s awful thoughtful of them. toi boys didn’t have dîner yesterday?”
    “Oh, no, we did. We just get another one,” Elyan grins. “I was at my girl’s house and Merlin was at… where was you?”
    “Uther’s house, actually. Mum cooks for him every year.”
    “Somethin’ goin’ on between your mama and Arthur’s daddy?” Elyan asks, standing.
    “No. God, no. Mum would kill him inside of a week,” Merlin laughs. “Uther is all alone and she takes pity on him. It was the three of us plus Geoffrey and Leon.”
    “A bunch of lonely men and your mama,” Elyan laughs.
    “No, Leon has a lady now, I forgot. He brought her along. Mithian, I think was her name. Nice girl.”
    Merlin and Elyan pay their bills and Thea gives them a bag with something heavy in it.
    “What’s this?” Elyan asks.
    “Cornbread for Arthur and Guinevere,” she says. “Couple loaves. My gift to them, so don’t toi go eatin’ it,” she warns.
    “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Merlin says, but he doesn’t sound very convincing because he’s got his face in the bag and is inhaling with a dreamy look on his face.
    “Merlin, sugar, toi keep your nose outta that bag!” Thea warns. Merlin lifts his face, grinning guiltily. “Now come here and give Miss Thea a hug.”
    She hugs each of them warmly. “Now, toi boys make sure toi stop par Miss Thea’s on your way accueil and I’ll have somethin’ nice for you.”
    “We’re drivin’ back on Sunday,” Elyan says. “According to your sign, toi ain’t open on Sundays.”
    “I a dit I’d have somethin’ nice for toi and I meant it,” she says.
    “All right, then we’ll stop on our way home,” Merlin says. He knows not to trifle with a woman when she uses that tone.
    “That’s right,” Thea nods.

Part 23: link