she said as gently as she could, I am not your confessor, Gwenhwyfar, and you, not I, are the one who p n within her womb, suddenly woke and stirred, moving sluggishly and slow like a sleeping dragon, a mo At last, weary, she turned away. She whispered his name, begging now, almost afraid.
Once before she had found herself there, but the woman who had mocked her had offered no harm or threat. There were even women who flung themselves at me, saying that if they could not have Lancelet, they would have his son. I look into a mirror only when I shave myself! Still, said Morgause, anyone who had seen Lancelet, especially anyone who knew him in youth, could not look on you without knowing you his kinsman. And then, half a year later, word came to her that he had died on the quest.
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