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A crown didn’t suit Galahad. It made him look strange, even though it was a beautiful crown, and the light caught on it and blazed red and blue and reflected gold. All that light was lovely. But Percy didn’t like it.
Galahad in a crown made Percy think of Constantinople, and the captive cheetahs in the stables there, still, coiled power with their necks ringed round with gems and metal. That same bright blaze when they stepped into the sun. The cheetahs had come to him, had sniffed at his hands, delicate and thoughtful, and oh, how they ran, let slip their leashes to take down a gazelle for their handlers, and Percy’s hands had itched to undo the heavy buckles, let them go, see them run in their own matte glory, without the cut stones to half hide them.
A crown didn’t suit Galahad.
“You don’t have to stay,” Galahad said, as they stood together in the gate, looking down the steep height of the town to the harbor below. “You could go out again. I’ll be all right.”
“Naw,” said Percy. “Feels right to stay with you. Anyhow, Heli’d tan me.”
Galahad laughed, but there was a little choking noise at the end of it, the way there always was when Percy mentioned Heli. There were little choking noises from Galahad a lot these days. It worried Percy. Percy was so worried for Galahad. Galahad didn’t seem happy living in this world anymore.
“And there’s the lemon tree,” Percy said, more desperately than he liked. “That lemon tree at the back of the garden. Needs tending, it’s been treated hard. I think I can help it, though, I think I can.”
“I hope you can,” Galahad said, and turned to Percy, and took both Percy’s hands in his. Galahad looked down at the cobbles under their feet. “I believe you can. So you should stay, then. Because it’s always you when you’re looking after something living.”
“I’ll stay,” Percy said, “I want to stay.” He squeezed Galahad’s hands. A crown didn’t suit Galahad. It didn’t make him happy. Percy didn’t think he could make Galahad happy either, because Percy knew it just plain didn’t work that way, but he hoped, maybe, maybe, it was like the lemon tree, and maybe he could help Galahad anyhow, because Galahad was good, he really was, and brave and strong and beautiful and Percy wanted him to be all right, wanted to take the crown off and watch Galahad run, faster than anything, gleaming with his own quiet light.