Chapter 9: Moving up at what cost?

Sir Percy, who remained on guard in the room while the others helped her, snickered. Artie, who was slightly delirious from blood loss sighed.

"What are you snickering about Sir Percy?" She asked, as Lady Morgan was quietly, but efficiently ordering Moira what she should do to take her dress off with causing the least amount of damage to the wound. She could hear Sir Percy shifting from foot to foot because of the clattering of the chain mail he wore.

"Your selection of handmaiden. You unintentionally chose the most controversial young lady in the castle, Sire. No harm meant, Moira." Moira shrugged it off, but Artie could tell it hurt her. Those kinds of comments always did.

"Is it because she doesn't hold her tongue?" Artie asked, and Moira stiffened. Lady Morgan, who had been quite focused, laughed.

"She's very similar to someone else in this room." Artie rolled her eyes at Lady Morgan's jab.

"I don't see it as a problem. If anything, if I had a handmaiden who just told me what she thought I wanted to hear, I could never trust her. Plus, I'm not used to kiss asses. I worked in a mostly male field so I'm used to doing things for myself. Plus, I know that if I told a handmaiden I could get dressed by myself the whole country would lose their mind." Artie sighed while all three women in the room paused in their work, staring at her, totally appalled.

"You got dressed by yourself like a peasant before this? The clothes you came in were very ornate and unusual, so I just assumed…" Moira started, forgetting herself and who was around. Artie laughed.

"I'm no pauper. I guess the easiest way to explain it is that I held a similar status to a knight, but not quite. I patrolled and caught criminals. I preferred not getting my hands dirty, so I did a lot of the behind the scenes work, but I was called in when they needed me. I was the best shot on the unit, so you can't escape when others need you." It was at that moment that the doors opened again, and Sir Kay and Lady Guinevere were back. Sir Kay's hand came around the side of the room divider and Moira snatched up the bandages. His hand reappeared, only this time he was holding a new dress. Lady Morgan paused, before she continued undressing me.

"I have the water you required." Lady Guinevere said, but she didn't join the group of girls behind the room divider. Artie didn't blame her. It was getting quite crowded back here. The girls continued to strip Artie, but when it became obvious that they were going to need to dress her wounds lying down. The three women laid her down on a flat cushioned bench behind the room divider. Moira, who seemed quite upset that Artie had bled through her dress and undergarments, was only slightly soothed when Lady Morgan took over the care. It was clear from Lady Morgan's movements that she was used to such tasks, and Artie was pleased to mark that off as a true statement. She was glad to know that some of the information she had on Lady Morgan wasn't false. Especially her medical knowledge.

It wasn't until the ladies were helping her into another set of clothes after she had been re-bandaged and her wounds washed that she really looked at the dress that Sir Kay had handed them. Her eyes widened.

"Uh, who lent me this dress?" Artie asked, knowing it wasn't Lady Morgan since she would sooner spit on her than help her.

"I did." Lady Guinevere said. Her voice was slightly muffled since she was on the other side of the room divider still. Artie was stunned.

"O-Oh." She replied, and Lady Morgan chuckled.

"You needed something fit for a King, and who else was going to have it, Sire? Only the soon to be former Queen." The way Lady Morgan emphasized Sire made it clear that she didn't like Artie, but that wasn't what froze her.

"Wait wait wait. If Lady Guinevere is the soon to be former Queen…" Artie went white. Moira was the first to panic.

"You cannot faint, My Lord. Your wound will reopen." The other handmaiden grabbed Artie under the armpits, holding her up as Moira placed her hands on her waist. Lady Morgan actually seemed concerned as she looked at Artie's complexion.

"Why are you so surprised? You knew our King died." Artie threw concerned, watering eyes in her direction.

"How in this fucking world would I ever think-!" Artie cut herself off, not wanting to yell. She took a few, deep, slightly painful breaths in as the two handmaiden's continued to help her get dressed once it became clear she wasn't going to faint. "Lady Morgan, I always knew you had a valid reason to dislike me, and now I really believe it. I am so sorry for your loss. Lady Guinevere, I am so sorry, and thank you for lending me your dress." Lady Morgan was taken aback by Artie's sincerity. She blinked her blue eyes, before looking over Artie again. Artie, with her wild red hair, similar blue eyes to Lady Morgan, and her figure that seemed to fit into Lady Guinevere's dress like a glove. If only Lady Guinevere was a little taller, then the dress would have been a perfect fit. Artie was white, with a splattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, thin hands, but strong arms. They'd had to grab a few different styles of undergarments to fit them. If it wasn't for her wound, Lady Morgan would have readily agreed that she was combat trained. The one thing that Lady Morgan was hesitant to admit to herself was the fact that despite her arrival, and the first awful meeting, Artie had been quite kind to her. Even with all of her harsh words, the time traveling woman had taken everything in stride. Lady Morgan sighed.

"Thank you for your condolesenses." She told her, and Artie's eyes widened slightly.

"Thank you as well, Sire, but they are unneeded. Arthur lived…Arthur lived a good life." Lady Guinevere was all alone on the other side of the room divider, and until now Artie had been okay with it. Now she hated it.

"Lady Guinevere, truly, thank you for the dress. This is far too good for me." Artie told her, and Lady Guinevere chuckled on the other side.

"You'll have to get used to it. That's only worth half of some of the pieces Arthur had. I'm sure we can repurpose some of the gems and things for your outfits." Artie's heart ached at this conversation. She then looked around the room and her eyes widened. She hadn't noticed before because she'd been busy trying to not faint, but this room was even more opulent compared to the one she woke up in.

The room was divided, and the bedroom part was actually broken up by a long, wooden folding screen that went the length of the whole room and was floor to ceiling. It would cut the room in half, and hide the bed from view. The folding portion was currently open. She wasn't anywhere near the bed, it was several feet away with a deep, purple canopy draped around the four posts. They were clearly curtains, and used to keep the draft out. The stone walls were covered in tapestries, with only small peeks of stone wall poking out.

On the half of that was on the same side of the bed, there were a couple of wooden dressers of varying sizes. Some standing and tall, while some were short and stout. There was also a narrow, but light-giving window, with a matching set of dark purple drapes. The room was fairly barren, clearly used mostly for sleeping, but there was a chest at the end of the bed, along with a side table with a drawer and a candle on each side of the bed. All were hand carved, sturdy, and looked quite durable. It spoke mostly to the previous occupants' preferences. Artie's heart ached.

The other half of the room was quite busy. There was another small, narrow window, but this drape was in a deep blue shade. It sat next to a small desk, tucked into the left hand corner, similar to the previous room she woke up in. One of the large differences was that it felt like this room had a dedicated section for changing. The bench that was placed close by the room divider made her feel that way, along with the large, tall dresser that was twice the size of the ones on the other side. There was also a small weapons rack against the right hand side of the room, near the door. It was currently empty, but Artie could tell where the holy sword used to sit. This was the King's old room.

King Arthur's old room.

King Arthur had died.

Artie's head was still swimming from that information, and she wasn't sure what to do with it. She felt like a shitty, poor replacement. She wasn't as virtuous as the previous owner of the sword, and hell, if she found out that her wife was sleeping with her best friend, she wouldn't handle it well. She already hadn't. It had ended up with her dying.

"Are you sure you don't want them, Lady Guin?" Artie realised her slip up right away. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've called you that in my head for so long. I'll call you Lady Guinevere from now on." Artie flushed, embarrassed at her slip up as Lady Guinevere's soft chuckle filled the air.

"It's fine, Sire. Only my late husband called me that." Artie, now embarrassed, blurted the next words without much thought, and then kicked herself since she already knew the answer.

"Not your parents?" Silence filled the room as Artie closed her eyes and wanted to groan out loud. She was a fucking idiot! Of course her piece of shit parents didn't call her that, especially her Father.

"My Mother passed away early on in my life, and my Father passed away about a year ago in battle. Neither one of them called me that to my knowledge." Artie, ever one to try to fix a situation she'd made awkward on her own, tried to make it better.

"I'm sorry to hear that they've both passed. Both of my parents are dead too." Artie told her as the girls finished up the final touches on her outfit, and rolled the room divider back. She was revealed to both Sir Kay and Sir Percy. Sir Percy grinned, clearly looking over the young sovereign and Artie raised an eyebrow. Sir Kay was more subtle about it, and Artie didn't pick up on it as she was focusing her attention on Lady Guinevere. She didn't appear upset, and Artie was glad for it.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear we share that in common, My Lord. If I may ask, how did they pass?" Lady Guinevere was being kind by reciprocating the interest, and Artie smiled. She wasn't sure how the room was going to receive the knowledge she was about to give them.

"Well, they committed suicide. As soon as I turned 15, they ended their lives together." A gasp from Moira and Lady Guinevere filled the air, as three of the four other women in the room covered their mouths. Lady Morgan even seemed shocked at the information. Sir Percy's face stiffened, and Sir Kay closed his eyes, bowing his head.

"I am so sorry to hear that. Their souls are lost forever." Sir Kay murmured. Artie laughed.

"They are lost together then. It's fine everyone. I've gotten over it. I was angry at first, but you get used to it as time passes. I think fondly of the time we had together." No one knew what to say in response to Artie's words, and Artie felt like kicking herself again. Another time she'd made everyone awkward. Great. This was going great.