“You look lovely,” Gwen said with a smile as she finished brushing Penelope’s silky brown hair. Penelope twisted her head to smile at the handmaiden.

“Thank you so much, Gwen. I don’t know what I’d have done without you,” Penelope quickly expressed her thanks and stood up to give her new friend a hug. Then Penelope walked across the room to hug Morgana. “You as well, Lady Morgana. I was going to have to make my appearance before the king in that… dress… and I fear it wouldn’t have made a good impression. At least I have a chance of becoming Arthur’s ward now,” Penelope said to the noble lady.

Morgana shook her head lightly. “Don’t worry about it, Penelope. Gwen and I enjoyed helping you; it’s what we ladies like to do with our spare time. And just call me Morgana. Only the kitchen servants use the title, and that’s only because I’ve never actually been able to correct them. Now, why don’t we look at your reflection?” Morgana steered Penelope over to a tall, floor-length mirror so she could see the work that had been done on her image. Penelope gasped in surprise and happiness.

“Morgana, Gwen, thank you so much! I look…”

“Stunning,” Gwen supplied.

“Ravishing,” Morgana offered with a suggestive wink. Penelope giggled and fingered her hair, which Gwen had brushed with one hundred strokes and curled. Morgana stood behind her and smiled, also quite beautiful in her crimson gown. Gwen clasped her hands and grinned broadly, not as well dressed as Morgana and Penelope but still quite lovely with her country charm. Penelope looked like a true courtier in the gown that Morgana had ordered, which was a pale aqua with silver trim. The neckline was scooped and revealed most of Penelope’s neck, which Gwen had lightly dusted with powder to cover the majority of the bruises. Unlike Morgana’s dress, which was sleeveless, Penelope’s arms were clad with more aqua silk. The skirt fell to her ankles, and a split in the center of Penelope’s waist allowed for the silver silk to show beneath the blue. Morgana had kindly let Penelope borrow one piece of jewelry, a diamond pendent. It was hard to believe that a few minutes ago Penelope looked like she was an over-worked slave- now she looked like nobility!

Morgana placed a hand on Penelope’s wrist and squeezed gently. “Anyone Arthur saves is worthy of this treatment,” she said kindly to Penelope. As Morgana said this, Penelope felt the butterflies in her stomach stir. She hadn’t noticed her nervousness until Morgana spoke, but now she worried about how the king would receive her. She was only a commoner, for God’s sake! “Now, if I remember correctly you said that Arthur wishes to make you his ward?”

Penelope nodded. “I asked him if he meant it, and he assured me that he did,” she answered.

“Hmm, that’s odd. Usually Arthur doesn’t take an interest in women. He’s a fighter, not a lover. I remember one time when he said that perhaps he just hasn’t found the right woman to love…” Morgana let her thoughts drift off and Penelope blushed, not liking the implications. “Oh, but that’s not what I meant!” Morgana quickly amended, seeing Penelope’s color. “Maybe since he’s saved you he’s realized that a fighter must have love in his heart to fight. You are his chance to sort of remake himself as a proper prince, one that is not cocky or egotistical.”

“Morgana, perhaps this is not the best time to ponder Arthur’s character,” Gwen intervened after receiving a tormented look from Penelope. Morgana noticed Penelope’s look and smiled apologetically.

“You’re right; this is not the time to make such judgments. I will have to see Arthur for myself before drawing such conclusions. Penelope, are Merlin and Arthur going to escort us to the banquet or are we going to meet them in the dining hall?”

Penelope swallowed with nervousness. “They’re going to escort us. Arthur said he wants to make the proper impression for his father…” Her voice trailed off as the women heard a knock on the door.

“Coming!” Gwen called as she trotted over, prying the door open. “Hello, Arthur, Merlin,” she said friendly. Penelope smiled weakly as the two men entered the room. There was a brief moment of silence, but Morgana quickly overcame it by gesturing to Penelope with her arms.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” she asked, daring the boys to say something different.

“Yes, she is,” Merlin obediently supplied. Penelope smiled appreciatively at him. Arthur, however, placed a hand over his mouth and looked pained.

“Yes, she… er, may I step out for a moment?” Arthur didn’t wait for anyone to answer before leaving the room and pacing the hall. Morgana, Gwen, and Merlin shared a confused look but Penelope only lowered her head in shame. Minutes later Arthur returned, this time with a calm expression on his face. “I’m terribly sorry,” he began. “You just… reminded me of someone I knew a few years ago. You look lovely,” he added after catching Morgana’s glare.

“Thank you,” Penelope replied meekly. Arthur took her arm and led her out of the room with Morgana, Gwen, and Merlin following behind. They quickly strode down the corridor to the dining hall. As they entered the room, Penelope’s nervous butterflies returned. She felt everyone’s eyes on her, but she was most acutely aware of the king’s. Uther sat on his throne and raised his hand to his chin, pondering her presence. Arthur gently tugged Penelope forward and they bowed before him, while Morgana took her accustomed seat. Gwen and Merlin bobbed their heads at the king and drifted off to the side of the hall.

“This is the girl you’ve risked your life for?” Uther asked, his voice loud and accusing. Arthur looked his father firmly in the eyes and nodded once.

“Yes, father. She was being beaten by two men outside of Camelot.”

Uther turned his gaze on Penelope, who averted her eyes. “Did you ask for help?” he asked her. Penelope shook her head.

“I don’t recall. I fell unconscious around that time, and my memory is quite fuzzy.”

“Do you remember prior to Arthur saving you?” Uther continued to ask. Arthur stiffened beside Penelope- no one should have to relive such terrible memories.

“Yes, I do.” Penelope’s brief answer showed her unwillingness to go into the day’s events.

“Your name is…?”

“Penelope, Sire. I’m a commoner from the village of Miralbor.”

Uther nodded his head slowly. “Miralbor, I receive warhorses from the stables there. It’s quite a distance from Camelot, isn’t it?”

Penelope bowed her head and sniffled, while Arthur clenched his jaw angrily. Why did his father have to be so difficult with his questions? At least Uther seemed to recognize that he was causing the girl pain, because he let her regain her composure for a few minutes. “There is no easy way to ask this, so I will put it bluntly. What happened to you?”

“My village was raided,” Penelope began with another sniffle. She took an uncertain step away from Arthur because the closeness was too much. She didn’t want him to hear how much she’d suffered, not after he had seen her wounds and taken care of her like any brother would. “My parents…” Penelope sucked in air and at once began to cry. Uther’s gaze softened, but he gestured for her to continue. “My parents were killed, and I was kidnapped by the raiders. They took me away from Miralbor. I didn’t know where we were going, but it must have been towards Camelot. When we were in the forest they stopped the horses, and I used the time to steal a gelding. I thought I was safe after I had jumped a stream but the raiders had followed me. They…” Penelope started sobbing again and this time Uther let her cry. When her sobs had subsided, she once again continued her story. “They pulled me from the horse and kicked me, punched me. I don’t remember much else, just screaming from the pain and a flash of steel. Hoof beats as the men fled. Then I blacked out.”

Arthur clenched his hands into a fist after he heard Penelope’s story. How could people do such terrible things? He had seen men in battle, but this was the first time that he had seen their cruelty in a setting other than war. The situation disgusted him.

“I am terribly sorry for what has befallen you,” Uther said without an ounce of emotion. “My son, since you have saved this girl, what do you propose we do?”

Arthur looked up, surprised by his father’s question. He had been expecting Uther to give the girl a position in Camelot, after which he would have to argue for Penelope to become his ward.

“Actually,” he said carefully, “I would like Penelope to become my ward.”

Uther laughed at his son’s decision. “Your ward? Don’t you recall that only the king may have a ward, and that wards must also be of noble blood?”

Arthur blushed red. No, he hadn’t remembered that. He saw Penelope stiffen next to him and blushed even further. “Then a position in the castle. Surely Camelot could use another handmaiden?”

“Arthur, we have enough servants already. The war has placed a toll on our trade and food supplies; we simply cannot sustain anyone more than necessary. While I regret this, Penelope will have to leave Camelot and return to Miralbor.”

“Father, that is preposterous! Miralbor has probably been destroyed by the raiders, you can’t send Penelope back!”

Uther stood up, thoroughly annoyed by his son’s disobedience. “While it is undesirable, that is exactly what I must do. Penelope understands, doesn’t she?”

Penelope looked up when she heard the question. “I do,” she whispered, knowing that there was nothing else she could say.

“It is settled. You will have four days before you must leave Camelot. For tonight you may dine with us.” Uther returned to his seat and waved his hand dismissively. Immediately Penelope bowed to the king and took a seat next to Morgana, who sympathetically laid a hand on her own. Arthur, however, strode up to his father and bent low to his ear.

“Father, what kind of Camelot do you want to show to Penelope? When she leaves here she will tell all who will listen that Camelot turns away those in need. Is that the kind of kingdom you wish to rule? Please reconsider.”

Uther listened to son thoughtfully before turning to face Penelope, who was holding a staring contest with her plate. “Perhaps Penelope can remain in Camelot if she can find a use for herself,” he began. “We do not need any more handmaidens or kitchen maids, but if you can find another position… you may stay.”

Penelope looked up gratefully at the king, who nodded his head once before turning his conversation to the knights sitting by his throne. “You won’t regret it,” Penelope said softly. The king didn’t hear her.