Arthur damns protocol in Ch 13/Sc 2c of RAGING SEA by @KimHeadlee #amwriting

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c2014 by Natasha Brown.

Arthur is not a king—yet—at this point in his career as I describe it in The Dragon's Dove Chronicles.  He is the supreme commander of the army charged with defending the northern Brytoni clans, and as such he remains answerable to all the chieftains.

This political wrinkle, even more so than the great military burden, has caused Arthur to develop a fair measure of self discipline and caution in spite of the fact that he's only in his early twenties. He has learned to navigate council meetings by observing from the background, speaking only when spoken to, and letting the politicians duke things out among themselves.

However, Arthur remains loyal to family above all, even family members with whom he's not terribly close, such as his younger sister Morghe (a.k.a. Morgan le Fay). In today's excerpt from Raging Sea, this trait shines forth in full force.

Previous excerpts of Raging Sea 
Chapters 1–6 in Raging Sea: Reckonings

 Chapter 7: Sc 1 | Sc 2 | Sc 3 | Sc 4 | Sc 5a | Sc 5b |
Chapter 8: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Chapter 9: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 1c | Sc 1d | Sc 1e |
Chapter 10: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2a | Sc 2b | Sc 3a | Sc 3b | Sc 3c |
Chapter 11: Sc 1a |  Sc 1b | Sc 1c | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Chapter 12: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 1c | Sc 2 | Sc 3 | Sc 4a | Sc 4b | Sc 5a | Sc 5b |
Chapter 13: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2a | Sc 2b |

Raging Sea Chapter 13, Scene 2c

©2016 by Kim Headlee

All rights reserved.

“Morghe!”

Every head in the hall turned toward Arthur at his outburst.

His youngest sister was elegantly attired in her husband’s Clan Moray black with gold trim, which lent stark contrast to the white bandage binding her shoulder and pinning her arm to her chest.

Protocol be damned!

He strode to the bench where she was seated, ignoring the angry stares garnered by his interruption. Urien and his advisor Accolon were standing to either side of her. Neither man looked pleased at Arthur’s approach.

Arthur ignored them too and went to one knee at Morghe’s feet, clasping the hand attached to her uninjured arm.

“What happened? Are you all right?” He felt his concern slide into anger as an unwelcome thought presented itself. “Urien didn’t—”

Morghe laughed, extricating her hand and waving it in a graceful if dismissive pattern. “Of course not. He prefers his ballocks where they are.” She beamed up at her husband, cheerfully oblivious to the shocked murmurs that skittered around the chamber. “Truth be told,” she whispered, “so do I.”

Arthur stood to mask his relief while doing his best not to conjure the image of her and Urien in an intimate setting. “An accident, then?”

She tapped her chin with the forefinger of her good hand. “That is one way of looking at it.”

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