Epilogue

ONE MONTH LATER…

We stood at the gates in front of the prettiest little cottage I’d ever seen. My stomach was in knots, a flutter of nerves I hadn't felt since facing down Mordred. But this wasn’t Mordred. This was much, much more terrifying.

"Relax, little faerie," Gawain teased, his steel-gray eyes dancing with mischief. "It's just Galahad's mother, not another giant or skeleton king."

I shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "Easy for you to say. You've known her for centuries."

Lance chuckled, his familiar warmth enveloping me as he wrapped an arm around my waist. "You faced down a sorceress hell-bent on stealing your throne, love. Surely meeting your mate's mother isn't more terrifying than that?"

I huffed, leaning into his embrace. "At least with Mordred, I knew where I stood. What if she doesn't approve of me? What if she thinks I'm not good enough for her son?"

"Impossible," Merlin murmured, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. "You’re too damn beautiful to disapprove of. It doesn’t hurt that you’re the high queen of all of Albion. You made her son into a king. What more could a mother ask for?"

Something told me Galahad’s mother didn’t give a rat’s arse about any of that.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Percy said with a dark, knowing chuckle, as if he were immensely enjoying my discomfort. Maybe a little too much. “You’re an immortal now, so what’s the worst she can do to you?”

That was not reassuring in the slightest.

As I stood there, heart racing, the cottage door suddenly swung open. The most delightful scent of freshly baked bread spilled out. Galahad's mother stepped onto the threshold. He was right behind her, smiling broadly and proudly.

She was strikingly beautiful, her ageless face framed by flowing auburn hair that seemed to dance in the gentle breeze. I could immediately tell where he’d gotten his fiery looks from, and I wished I could see his father too. She wore a simple yet elegant dress of woven silks. Her grass-green eyes sparkled with warmth and kindness as they landed on me.

Before I could even think to curtsy or offer a formal greeting, she was moving. With graceful steps that barely seemed to touch the ground, she glided towards me, her arms outstretched. In an instant, I was enveloped in an embrace that felt like coming home.

Her arms were strong yet gentle, and she smelled of sun-warmed earth and sweet honeysuckle. I felt the tension melt from my shoulders as she held me close, one hand coming up to stroke my hair in a gesture so maternal it made my heart ache.

It’d been twenty years since I felt the loving touch of a mother. Twenty years of yearning for a family. It was all I could to keep it together, and keep from sobbing in front of Galahad’s mother.

When she finally pulled back, her hands remained on my shoulders as she looked at me with eyes brimming with joy and unshed tears. "I've always wanted a daughter."

As I wiped a tear from my eye, I turned to see Galahad walking towards us, a broad smile on his absurdly handsome face. But before he could reach us, two hulking figures that resembled Galahad to a suspicious degree burst from the bushes and tackled him to the ground with a resounding thud.

“Eat grass, fucker!”