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It was a truth universally acknowledged that a single young man in possession of a great kingdom must be in want of a bride. However, little known the feelings or views (or sexuality) of such a prince may be on his first entering society, this truth was so well fixed in the minds of the king and the surrounding noble families, that he was considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

That was how Prince Arthur found a ball being thrown in his honour on his ascension to Crown Prince. It was really a not-so-subtle gesture on King Uther’s part in an effort to finally find a noble, Camelot girl to become his son’s princess. Arthur, ever playing the part of the respectful son, agreed easily, despite his reservations against marriage so young, or to a woman at all.

“Why is marriage such a big deal?” he later sighed to Lancelot and Leon. Lancelot had been the son of Lord Eldred, a close friend of Uther’s. Upon his father’s death, it had only been expected for Lancelot to become Uther’s ward and being so close in age to Arthur, it had only been expected for the two boys to become firm friends. Leon on the other hand had been the knight tasked with keeping both Arthur and Lancelot out of trouble and as the old saying goes, ‘If you can’t beat them, join them,’ Leon ended up becoming the next close confidant of Arthur’s. “Why can’t we all just marry whatever, whatever peasant catches our eye?” asked Arthur with a frustrated groan.

Lancelot raised an eyebrow. “A peasant boy caught your eye?” Arthur shoved him in response. Leon rolled his eyes as they playfully fought and finally, Lancelot caught his breath back to finish his thought. “You are right though. What separates nobility from the rest of Camelot’s citizens?” he asked seriously. “We are not better than anyone simply because of our birth.”

“Society would crumble if everyone did what they wished,” said Leon, playing Devil’s advocate as he often did. “These rules, no matter how arbitrary, are what keeps the structures of Camelot running.” Arthur nodded glumly and Leon decided to switch his tone. “Who knows, maybe the ball might lead you to a woman who will fulfil her duties and wouldn’t mind if you seek… other company.”

Leon prayed such a kind-hearted woman existed.

///

Guinevere Emrys knew her responsibilities in life. Despite her mother and her brother insisting that her future was whatever she wished for, she knew that her hands were tied. She was the eldest daughter of a noble family which was quite frankly struggling.

After her father, Lord Balinor Emrys, had passed away, the estate and title passed onto her brother, Merlin. Unfortunately, Merlin had taken almost completely after his father. This was only a bad thing because Lord Balinor had never succeeded as nobility. He was quick to offer aid to his peasants and slow to raise taxes — a trait which had won him his wife, the Lady Hunith. At the time of his death, the family had five children and very little funds. Therefore, when Merlin turned out to continue his father’s legacy, it became pretty obvious pretty quickly that Guinevere was going to have to step up.

Her marriage was the only way to avoid destitution and, more importantly, disgrace from the other lords and ladies. She was responsible for her younger sisters and for her mother and brother, despite what they said about her dreams. Luckily for all parties involved, Gwen too dreamt of being swept off her feet by love. She just needed to ensure her lover was rich enough to rescue her family from poverty.

“Gwen, dearest,” called Hunith, interrupting her daydreams. “I have your new dress here. We must see if it requires any alterations.” Gwen paused in her reading and ran to her mother at once, her sisters close on her heels.

“May we come to the King’s ball, mother?” asked Kara once again. She sighed as Hunith frowned at her. “It’s so unfair! One day, I will go to a ball and none of you will be invited,” she added to the others, who giggled.

“It’s not our fault you are the youngest,” pointed out Sefa, laughing with Isolde. Kara pouted and left to stare out of the window, like the dramatic teenager she was. “And anyway, we will all dance at every ball you attend with our husbands , because we shall marry before you.”

Kara glared at Sefa, looking close to murder, until Mithian stepped in and frowned at her. “Kara, you know they’re just trying to rile you up. And you two, stop taunting Kara.” Hunith smiled gratefully and shooed the younger ones outside.

“Thank you dearest. I’m afraid you will have to wear one of Gwen’s old dresses as you did for your debut.” Mithian shook her head as her mother sighed heavily. “Your brother will be quite unhappy to discover this but thankfully, he lacks an eye for fashion. I’ll need you to pretend again.”

“Gwen has the most beautiful dresses,” said Mithian, putting a smile on both Hunith’s and Gwen’s face. “I’m honoured to wear them. And you need not worry about Merlin, mother. Will he be accompanying us to the ball?”

Hunith helped Gwen into her dress as she hummed. “I have reminded him that it would be impolite to not present his sisters to the King, but when have I ever convinced him to do something?” Her daughters smiled slightly as she rolled her eyes. “I pity the woman who’ll be stuck with him for eternity.”

///

It was half a candle mark after the ball had started that the Emryses had arrived in their rented carriage which had one less horse than polite society demanded. Merlin resolved this issue by quickly dismissing them and joined his sisters and mother a step later. He glared at the extravagant silk tapestries which stood outside the castle until Mithian nudged him.

“Dear brother, you may want to leave the looks of cold indifference to the ice sculpture.” Merlin’s jaw dropped as he craned his neck, catching sight of a frozen exotic fish mid-flight inside the room. Gwen gently shut her brother’s mouth and he missed his mother’s look of disapproval as he whispered to them.

“That is so ridiculous! Can you imagine how many of the lesser fortunate would have benefited from the money that’s gone into the, the weird fish thing!” Gwen grimaced.

“I believe it is a bird. A peacock, I should think, if Gaius’ book’s illustrations are accurate.”

“It’s over the top, that’s what it is,” muttered Merlin but offered a hand to Gwen and led her inside with a faked expression of pleasantness. “Now Gwen, remember—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” sighed Gwen. “I mustn’t feel any pressure and I must simply consider the lord’s character. Merlin, I’ve done so many of these now. Why doesn’t Mithian get these talks — this is her first ball.”

“Because Mithian doesn’t settle,” said her mother from behind her, grinning as her daughter gasped. “She is happy to express her desires, which is an admirable trait. You, on the other hand, care too much about us.” Gwen pursed her lips but didn’t respond.

“Will we see the prince first?” asked Mithian after they entered and Merlin glanced at the far end, where the King was seated with his son at his side. “I thought he would be dancing with his potential matches.” She frowned, as if she personally disapproved of his choice to remain seated by his father’s side.

“I’m sure he’ll begin dancing after everyone’s arrived,” assured Gwen as Merlin led them to the King. She took a deep breath and smiled perfectly once they stood before the royal family.

“Lord Merlin Emrys, my lord,” said Merlin after he bowed. After his father’s death, Merlin hadn’t spoken to the King yet and felt the introduction necessary. “May I present my sisters, Lady Guinevere Emrys and Lady Mithian.” Gwen and Mithian curtsied in succession and Uther nodded once.

“Lord Emrys,” he greeted. “It was unfortunate what happened to your father. You have taken on the mantle well,” added Uther as he smiled at Gwen. “Your family is a credit to nobility.” Although meant as a compliment, Merlin had to force himself to smile and repeat similar empty words back to the king. What even was nobility, he thought to himself.

Uther gestured to his side, causing his son and friend to get up quickly. “Prince Arthur and Lord Lancelot Eldred,” he said and they bowed once. Merlin bowed back and prepared to leave but not before he noticed the shy smile Lancelot had as his eyes searched for Gwen, nor the bright look in Gwen’s eyes as she subtly glanced back at him. A quick look at his mother told him Hunith had seen the display too.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur as Merlin was swept up into dances with the noble ladies, though he kept tabs on his sisters. Mithian had waltzed once with a certain Lord Montgomery and another time with Lord Ducksworth. Gwen on the other hand had been seen dancing with a few eager young men and was now returning from a dance with Lord Lancelot, one which she had been the most eager for.

As Uther was determined to find a bride for his son, he had not seen fit to invite other lords and as such, there was a distinct shortage of men, leaving a few noble ladies to remain seated for a period of time, some longer than others. Despite the pity Merlin felt for these forlorn ladies who watched their peers dance happily, there was only so much dancing he could take and found himself on the wall soon, close to where Gwen was seated.

As he decided to sit with her, he found himself trapped between a house plant and the drinks table. There was only one way out and it was currently blocked by none other than Lancelot (who also seemed to tire from his multiple dancing ventures) and Prince Arthur (who had yet to dance with a lady), both absorbed in conversation. Merlin hadn’t planned on eavesdropping but he had no choice.

“—must dance! You cannot tell me not a single lady here has not caught your eye?” said Lancelot with a disbelieving expression. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“They are all as equally vapid and vainglorious as the next,” he said coldly. Merlin decided he disliked this man. The prince hadn’t even made the effort to get to know these ladies and concluded they were a great burden. He was clearly a prat.

Lancelot seemed to share Merlin’s thoughts but expressed them in a more polite manner. “Speak to them, Arthur,” he urged. “I hope you haven’t forgotten what Leon has suggested.” Arthur looked at him, affronted and shook his head firmly. Lancelot sighed. “You may find you are surprised by the women present. Why, I can recommend the lovely Lady Guinevere! She is the most beautiful lady I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Merlin preened and promised to relay this excellent praise to Gwen. “She’s sat there,” continued Lancelot and Arthur turned to look.

“Oh. She is tolerable,” conceded Arthur haughtily and Merlin doubted he was going to like the rest of his assessment. “But not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by the other lords, as she is now.” It took all of Merlin’s restraint not to deck that motherfucker right there and then. Even Lancelot looked disapproving.

“Arthur—”

“You had better return to the ball and enjoy these creatures, for you are wasting your time with me,” interrupted Arthur and with a firm nod, he departed. Merlin waited until Lancelot followed him before storming out of his hiding place.

“We leave now,” he gritted out to his sister and it was a testament to his barely restrained fury that no one argued and readied to promptly leave.

///

“The prince said that?” asked Hunith, scandalised. They had returned home to find the younger girls still up and eager for news. Mithian had attempted to put them to bed initially but Kara wasn’t satisfied with her story-telling and finally, Gwen took it upon herself to help her sister out, leaving Hunith and Merlin to enjoy a late night’s drink in each other’s company.

Merlin made a face of disgust and took a long sip of his wine. “He probably thinks he’s so much better than everyone because he’s the prince. What a clotpole. At least his friend was a much better character,” he sighed. “It is good he has shown interest in Gwen and that she seems to like him too. They seem to make a good couple.”

Hunith frowned. “She will have a lot of competition from all the other young ladies. Lord Lancelot is regarded quite the catch.” Merlin waved a careless hand.

“Gwen is no match for them.” His mother smiled at his optimism. “Maybe she will have one of those romances she always reads of.”

“It is what we hoped for her. And we cannot ignore the fact that Lord Lancelot has an impressive fortune,” added Hunith and Merlin nodded. “But I fear the King may have other plans.”

“What do you mean?”

Hunith refilled her goblet as she answered him. “The other mothers were quite jealous to hear that the King smiled at darling Guinevere. He may intend for her to become the next princess.” Merlin disagreed almost immediately.

“No. No, you’ve got this wrong,” he said, shaking his head, causing his mother to laugh. “Absolutely not, I disapprove.”

“Dearest, if the King wishes—”

“No! Gwen will not marry that, that prat ,” said Merlin, frustrated. “He is intolerable and not even the slightest bit handsome and Gwen deserves much better in life.”

She laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. “We do not know what Uther’s design is, but keep an open mind. You may find Prince Arthur surprises you.” Merlin did not think so.

///

Arthur leaned back in the carriage and sighed, attracting the attention of Leon and Lancelot, who were casually conversing. They were en route to the ball being held by Lord and Lady le Fay and Arthur decided he hated balls. He had only attended one — the one thrown in his honour, no less — and yet they were tiring and simply vexing.

Though, nothing was more vexing than the list in his hands. He glanced at it and sighed yet again, causing Leon and Lancelot to turn to him, fully abandoning their conversation. “What is it now?” asked Leon, surprising himself with his impatience as well as Arthur. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is everything alright?”

“I am fine.” Arthur waved him off but Lancelot pursed his lips.

“A ‘fine’ man does not sigh twice in a row. Was this because of your meeting with your father?” he guessed tentatively. Arthur rubbed a hand over his face and nodded by a minute degree.

“Father was… unimpressed by my behaviour at the last ball,” he said after a few minutes. “He took the liberty of making a list of eligible women I should dance with at least once in this one.” He handed the list over to them who scanned it quickly.

“Lady Morgana le Fay, Lady Guinevere Emrys, Lady Mithian, Lady Elena Godwyn, Lady Sophia Aulfric and Lady Vivian Olaf,” read out Leon and looked up at Lancelot. Of all, he had only known Lady Morgana and that was on the account of her regular visits to the palace. She was a princess in all but name, not as Arthur’s future bride, but as his sister.

He smiled and nodded. “They are all quite pleasant. Though I must admit, watch your toes with Lady Elena,” he added with a quick glance around, as though afraid of being overheard in their private carriage. Arthur shook his head.

“I do not wish to dance with any of them!”

Leon laid a comforting hand. “You do not have a choice, Your Highness.” That was what he needed — a reminder of his station and of his duties. Arthur took a deep breath and nodded with a resolute look in his eye.

///

“I do not understand why we must go to this ball,” stated Isolde as she stubbornly evaded the nursemaid, who was trying her level best to get the girl into her dress. “We didn’t have to go to the other one!”

“Really, Isolde, this is so fun,” said Kara, rolling her eyes. She eyed Gwen’s dress wistfully as she stepped into her own, a hand-me-down of Sefa’s. “I’m so excited to dance again.”

“Why didn’t we go to the King’s ball, if we’ve been to every other one?” asked Sefa and Mithian hummed with interest as she helped pin her curls.

“That ball was for debutantes because the King was looking for people to become the next princess. This one is for everyone, like the others,” she said and Isolde stomped her foot as she now leapt on the furniture.

“I’m not going! I want to go riding!”

Just then, Hunith came into the dressing room with Gwen in tow and gasped. Isolde quickly stepped down and stood patiently as the nursemaid hurried to dress her before she changed her mind. “What is the meaning of this! You wish to go riding, young lady?” Isolde hung her head, nodding glumly. Hunith took pity on her and softened her tone. “There are times in the day for riding and times for dancing. It’s much too dark now, isn’t it?”

Gwen gestured to the window helpfully, which showed that the sun was close to setting. “Besides, a young lady must have many interests, not just riding.” Hunith patted her hair and smiled. “You are an excellent rider — I wonder, are you just that good at dancing?” she asked with a playful grin. Isolde nodded at once.

“I’m brilliant at everything. Just you see!” Isolde ran off again and the nursemaid sighed. Her brief reprieve was over.

“Make haste!” came Merlin’s voice from below and the women hurried to finish dressing. They were met with a disappointed Merlin who ushered them into the carriage at once. As Hunith passed at the end, he hissed into her ear, “The longer he waits, the more he charges!” His mother gave him a guilty look and Merlin sighed, the temporary anger leaving his frame.

A short while later, they were standing in front of the le Fay mansion, which was thankfully less opulent than the castle was. Merlin cast an approving glance over the decorations as he helped everyone out.

“I’m glad these are more appropriate to your tastes, Merlin,” joked Gwen, over her arm to him. Merlin nudged her slightly but led them inside.

“Lady le Fay has always had great taste.”

“Oh!” Merlin spun to find Lady le Fay beam at him. “I do like you,” she said and with a sly wink, she continued, “I’ve always held onto the hope that one day, the Houses le Fay and Emrys will become one.” Merlin’s eyes widened and Gwen gasped but Lady le Fay slipped away before he could answer her.

“I suppose I must find a lord, seeing as you’ll no doubt be searching for Lady Morgana,” said Gwen, smirking, and left in a similar manner, leaving him to roll his eyes.

///

“I have yet to see a more displeased expression,” came an amused voice and Merlin turned slightly to find Lady Morgana le Fay approach him by the drinks table. He quickly brushed her fingers against his mouth, not taking his eyes off the dance floor. “Lord Emrys,” she smiled and followed his eyes. “What has gotten you glaring so intensely?”

Merlin didn’t have to answer because Gwen chose that moment to waltz past, dancing with the one person he hated ever-so-much: Prince Arthur. Morgana raised an eyebrow. “And what has my cousin done to earn your ire?” Merlin cocked his head.

“Cousin?”

Morgana shrugged slightly. “Distant, but whenever he complains of how vexing I am, I like to remind him of our relationship,” she smiled, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Merlin smiled too and finally directed his attention to Morgana. “So, what has dear Arthur done to you then?”

His smile slipped off and he sighed. “He’s the very definition of a hypocrite!” Morgana snorted in an unladylike manner and hurried to disguise it as a cough. Merlin was emboldened by this and continued, “He made the most awful remark about Gwen and yet here he is—” he broke off to gesture at the couple, where Arthur was politely engaging Gwen in conversation. “He said that Gwen wasn’t handsome enough to tempt him.”

Morgana made an appropriately shocked expression and gasped. “Dear Gwen is so beautiful! How dare Arthur say that about her?” Merlin nodded, slightly mollified by her strong tone. “I do despise him,” she admitted after some time. Morgana stepped as close as she could to Merlin without causing scandal and dropped her tone. “He’s always been distant around ladies and I assumed it to be some misguided chivalry but it’s the way he acts around us, as though we are lesser.”

Merlin wrinkled his nose in disgust. The more he heard about Prince Arthur, the more he hated them. “It wasn’t until I heard what he did to a friend of my sister’s that I truly disliked him.” Morgana paused as a few ladies approached them, batting their eyelashes in Merlin’s direction. He smiled politely but made no further advances and their expressions wilted as they left, leaving her to continue. “You remember Morgause?”

He nodded at once. Lady Morgause le Fay was Morgana’s older sister and had been the talk of the town when she decided to leave the kingdom to become a knight for King Cenred. Lord and Lady le Fay had been shunned from society for a season until Queen Ygraine herself had come out in support of Morgause’s choices, rescuing the entire family from permanent disgrace. Now, even after the Queen’s death, the le Fay’s had maintained their previous high status and moreover, Morgause had served as an inspiration for numerous ladies past the age of marriage as a different future to spinsterhood.

“She is quite the heroine to my sister Isolde,” said Merlin honestly. Morgana smiled.

“I’ll be sure to tell my sister of her fans. She knows of this man — a boy, really — who used to be a knight here in Camelot. One day, he was stripped of his knighthood by Arthur and forbidden from setting foot in the castle,” said Morgana, keeping one eye on Gwen and Arthur, who were close to finishing their dance. Merlin’s eyes widened.

“Stripped, forbidden, my, what did he do? Plot regicide?” he joked. Morgana simply shook her head.

“He made the mistake of going to the tavern with the other knights and rightfully winning Arthur’s fortunes. Of course, he felt cheated so how does he react? Like a child who cannot share.” Merlin shuddered, unable to contain how repulsed he was. The prince was nothing like he assumed. He hadn’t had great expectations, but to find Arthur a hypocrite, a sore loser and more importantly, a dishonourable man left Merlin wishing he had never laid eyes on him.

Morgana lightly touched his hand, drawing him from his thoughts. “I should dance now — it would be improper for the hostess not to.” Merlin bowed respectfully as she departed and Morgana turned to add, “Keep Gwen away from him, will you?” He nodded immediately. Arthur could offer up Camelot for his sister but Merlin wasn’t going to even entertain that thought.

///

Arthur bowed to Lady Guinevere and lightly kissed her hand, looking deep into her brown eyes, which sparkled with delight. His initial assessment had been quite incorrect and a dance with the lady had informed him that he couldn’t be more wrong. Lady Guinevere was perfect — she was just as pretty as a Queen should be yet lacked the arrogance that came with such beauty. She was well-read, well-spoken and graceful, all admirable qualities and most importantly, she seemed kind enough to turn a blind eye to Arthur’s… preferences in bed-partner.

He made up his mind. Lady Guinevere Emrys was going to be the next Princess of Camelot. But this wasn’t a lawless land, where Arthur could simply declare his intentions to her and marry within the next week. No, Arthur needed to seek the permission of her father, or in the absence of, her brother.

The very brother who had been not-so-subtly glaring at him for the past half hour.

Arthur wasn’t blind: he felt the dislike and disgust emanating from the man before he’d even seen the pure rage in Lord Merlin Emrys’ eyes, but Arthur didn’t know why. As far as he was aware, they had yet to meet. So why did the lord hate him so much?

Determined to find out, Arthur walked up to him. Now, as customs stated, the lesser lord of the two bowed first and introduced himself. As Prince, Arthur rarely was in this position and so, as always, he stood expectantly in front of Emrys. He didn’t bow. The utter fool simply raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, waiting for Arthur to speak. A mere lord expected him , the prince , to introduce himself first!

Arthur decided he hated the man. But this was a social situation and if there was anything his father had taught him, it was to avoid a scene. So he inclined his head minutely and Emrys, the buffoon, mimicked his gesture. Arthur paused — was Lady Guinevere really worth it?

“Prince Arthur,” said Emrys coldly. Arthur raised an eyebrow. What had he done to annoy him so much?

“Lord Emrys.” Arthur’s smile was tight as he slowly lost the fight to remain pleasant and not cause a scene, dammit ! “A pleasure to meet you.” He internally snorted: there was no one more annoying in the five kingdoms than the man in front of him.

Emrys nodded slightly. “Likewise.” He looked pained as he repeated the sentiments. Arthur took a deep breath and considered broaching the topic he was actually interested in (Guinevere) rather than these useless pleasantries (which he had no interest in) but apparently, Emrys had other ideas. “Why were you dancing with my sister?”

Arthur was taken aback. He simply blinked in response as he comprehended the fact that someone had directly asked him, the prince, to explain his actions. His perfectly honourable actions, might he add. “It is a ball,” he said dryly and Emrys had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“I know that,” he snapped. Arthur lightly pinched his forearm, hoping to discover this was all a strange dream and people still treated him with respect, at least to his face. “I remember you finding Gwen tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt you,” said Emrys in what Arthur assumed was a crude imitation of him.

He frowned. When had he said tha— oh. Now he remembered. “That was a private conversation!” Apparently, Emrys had the decency to look ashamed. Arthur cast a wary eye around, now fully aware that even lords lacked qualities like honour and valour. “It is none of your business what I say in private!”

Emrys’ head shot up and the dislike returned. “You have no right speaking of my sister in that manner! In fact, you are forbidden from dancing with her.” He nodded firmly and Arthur spluttered at him.

“Who are you to forbid me from anything?” This was the wrong thing to say as the lord’s face contorted into an expression of pure hatred. But Arthur was never one to cower and so he held his head up high. “I will, in fact, be dancing with Lady Guinevere if I so wish.”

Emrys narrowed his eyes and turned on his heel, leaving Arthur to glare at his retreating back. How dare he leave without being dismissed? Arthur was the prince around here, thank you very much!

///

Arthur had quite a difficult time forgetting the obscene manner in which he had been treated and sought the opinion of his closest friends. Lancelot and Leon were both in agreement that Lord Merlin Emrys overstepped his boundaries, if only to shut him up.

“I mean, how dare he speak to me in that manner?” asked Arthur for the umpteenth time. The ball had ended a little over an hour ago and since then, the only topic of conversation had been Lord Emrys’ audacity. “I am the prince of the realm and it is an honour for any family if I dance with their daughter. Yet he forbids me from dancing with his sister! He who eavesdrops unabashedly! Who’s he to tell me anything? Me!”

Lancelot made to interrupt despite Leon’s firm head shake. “It’s most likely because you speak like that, Arthur.” Leon slapped his forehead as Arthur slowly raised an eyebrow. Lancelot changed his tracks immediately. “I simply mean, you’ve never enjoyed other lords bowing to your every whim and regularly wish more of your citizens would be honest. Now, do you really want to be treated like the prince of the realm?”

Arthur frowned. “No, I suppose,” he admitted after some time. “I do dislike the constant deference, but it is not Emrys’ place to decide how he treats me!” added Arthur fervently.

“No, it’s not,” agreed Leon soothingly whilst adding in an undertone to Lancelot, “Don’t. Just let him have this. He’ll find another problem soon enough and Lord Merlin won’t be a concern.” Lancelot nodded.

Arthur went quiet and stared out of the window in his room as the others talked quietly. The exchange with Emrys had been infuriating, make no mistake, but he found he wasn’t that upset. Why? “There’s something about him,” he said, half to himself. “Something I’ll find out.”

///

It was a fine morning a few days after the le Fay ball and the Emryses were dining together as a family ought to, with everyone loudly proclaiming what their intentions were with the day, when the footman interrupted.

He held out a platter with a few envelopes on it to Merlin, who gestured for his sisters to carry on talking as he surveyed the post. It mostly consisted of bills and other letters of financial importance, apart from one, which was addressed to a particular Lady Guinevere Emrys. He flipped it around to try and get an indication of the author but to no avail.

“—and I wish to buy three new dresses— brother, are you listening?” demanded Kara, drawing Merlin from his observations. He smiled apologetically as he handed the missive to Gwen. She opened it at once and the table grew quiet as they waited for her to explain.

“It’s Lady Morgana,” she said after some time. “She wishes for me to accompany her to the palace.” Gwen looked up, surprise evident on her face. Merlin frowned and looked at Hunith, who was beaming. “Oh, and she has a note for you too, Merlin.” Gwen handed the letter back and he quickly read it.

“Darling Gwen,

“In a bizarre turn of events, I find myself invited to the palace. There was an explanation or other in the way of King Cenred inviting King Uther for tea, or whatever the kingly equivalent of tête-à-tête is, and our dear king wishes for my presence to keep his son in line. A wise decision, I must say. However, if I am to be subjected to the horrors of Prince Arthur, I wish for you to keep me company. Please do not deny me this simple request and join our perfectly chaperoned gathering (I mention this fact on account of your dear brother).

“I look forward to dining with you,

“Yours, as ever,

“Lady Morgana le Fay”

“Oh my, Gwen’s been invited to the palace!” Sefa squealed in excitement and jumped with Kara as their mother tried to calm them down. “You have to go!”

“You may not,” said Merlin at once with pursed lips. The table quietened yet again as he dismissed the footman and Gwen frowned.

“But why not? It is chaperoned—”

“I do not wish for you to spend time with the prince.” Merlin spat the last few words and Mithian raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you dislike Prince Arthur so? Even at the last ball, you seemed quite cold to him.”

Hunith laid a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Dear, if Gwen wishes to go, we mustn’t stop her. She is close with Lady Morgana.” Merlin looked unconvinced. “It is likely she will not even spend much time with the prince.”

“I quite like him,” admitted Gwen and Kara gasped.

“Oh my, we’re all going to be princesses! We can have pretty dresses every day!”

Merlin glared at her until Kara looked close to tears and Mithian took it upon herself to direct her younger sisters out. It seemed her brother was in a mood. “What do you like about him?” asked Merlin with a grimace. “He is, he is insufferable! What’s wrong with Lord Lancelot? He is much more agreeable.”

Gwen shook her head slightly. “The prince has shown an interest in me, something Lord Lancelot hasn’t yet.”

“But he likes—”

“Do not!” shouted Gwen, tears springing to her eyes. “I thought that too,” she added in a quieter tone, “but I fear Lord Lancelot simply doesn’t feel that way. Prince Arthur does and I don’t wish to throw it away.”

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I don’t want Arthur to break your heart.” Hunith cleared her throat and waited until both of her children looked at her.

“One meeting at the palace isn’t going to affect your futures,” she said pointedly. “Gwen was invited by Lady Morgana for tea. She isn’t going to accept Prince Arthur’s proposal. Besides, do we want to forbid Lady Morgana from getting something she wants?” Merlin shook his head.

“She’ll march down here to drag Gwen away. Very well,” he sighed again and Gwen beamed. She hugged him and left the room at once, finding herself face-to-face with her sisters, who were all shamelessly eavesdropping by the door.

///

The next morning a letter awaited Merlin as he joined his family for breakfast. A quick glance had him frowning and Hunith looking expectantly at him. “What is it, dear?” she asked once it became obvious she wasn’t going to get an answer from just looking at him.

“Gwen’s taken ill,” said Merlin with a shake of his head. “They’ve sent for the royal physician but…” Mithian took the letter from his loose hands and read it out loud.

“Dearest brother,

“I find myself quite unwell this morning, but it is no great concern — a mere sore throat, no more. Lady Morgana has been playing the role of a nursemaid most exceptionally and I am to see Gaius this afternoon, on the orders of the Prince. I tell you this so you do not worry about my reticence nor my absence tonight.

“Your dear sister,

“Gwen”

“I don’t think you need to look so concerned,” said Isolde as she speared her potato. “It is just a cold, most likely.” Sefa turned to her, appalled.

“Just a cold? That’s how Mrs Palmer died!”

Kara paled. “Gwen’s going to die?” she asked, looking fearfully between Merlin and Hunith, the latter of which frowned.

“Gwen will be perfectly alright. She has the best care in the kingdom! Now, eat quickly. We must collect a few dresses from the modiste today. Merlin, dear, you must eat as well,” she added as her son kept staring at his plate.

“I’m going to see her,” decided Merlin and immediately, his mother began to argue.

“Is there the need?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “She’s unwell, mother. You cannot expect me to abandon her. I’ll stay with her until she is well enough to return.”

“But you’ll miss tonight’s ball!” despaired Hunith. “It is Lady Emilia’s after all and I hear King Cenred will be in attendance. It would be quite poor for you to not show.”

“Gwen won’t be there, neither will any of the royal party if her letter is any indication of the situation there,” said Merlin dryly. “I highly doubt my absence will be noted.”

“How will you travel?” asked Mithian, once again giving her mother fuel.

“Mithian raises an excellent point. Gwen had at least a carriage given by the palace. I do not believe you will rent one—”

“Of course not,” said Merlin, affronted. “Carriages are not the only method of transport. I shall walk there. The distance is only a few miles and it is a fine day.” He nodded and the resolute expression told Hunith his decision was final. “Make my excuses to Lady Emilia, will you, Mother?”

Hunith sighed as he exited with a smile. “When do I not,” she muttered, stabbing her potato and playfully glaring as the girls giggled.

///

Arthur walked into the breakfast parlour and stopped dead in his tracks. In front of him stood none other than one Lord Merlin Emrys, who looked as though he had fought (and lost) a battle to get there. His boots were caked in mud, as was his outer robe and his trousers had plenty of noticeable rips. Even his cheek was adorned with a scrape, not to mention the dried mud in his hair. Frankly, he looked a sight.

Arthur blinked at him and it was only when Lancelot and Morgana came in and the latter remarked loudly that Arthur shook himself from his shocked reverie. “Lord Emrys, what a pleasant surprise!” She cast an appraising glance at his appearance and raised an eyebrow. “I hope this haste was not due to concern over Guinevere’s well-being?”

Emrys bowed, showing he was perfectly capable of acting like an honourable member of society when he so wished. Arthur decided he hated him even more. “I have no doubt of how attentive my lady is, but a brother worries.” Morgana smiled at once.

“I suppose you should like to see her?” she asked and Emrys nodded solemnly. “The last time I went, Gwen was resting. She had had a fitful night and was quite feverish.” Emrys paled and looked eager to leave but Lancelot cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Lord Emrys, may we offer a change of clothes? You appear quite travel-weary.” That was an incredibly polite way to put what his appearance was but Lancelot was quite skilled at that. Emrys glanced sheepishly down himself and shook his head.

“Please, I insist you call me Merlin. And I would like to see my sister first, if that is possible.” Lancelot apologised at once even though Merlin assured him that his foresight was admirable. As Morgana gestured for them to follow her, Arthur whispered to Lancelot as he passed.

“He looked like he walked here! Or even jumped in every puddle of mud he came across! Whatever happened to travelling like civilised people, in carriages?” Lancelot glanced at him with a disapproving expression, but it was nothing compared to the hate in Merlin’s eyes as he clearly heard the remark.

///

Merlin sat by Gwen’s side and held her in his arms as Morgana fluffed the pillows behind her. Gwen croaked her thanks and smiled weakly at him. “I’m glad you came,” she managed finally, gratefully accepting the glass of water offered by Morgana. “I didn’t want to worry anyone but I—” Gwen broke off as hacking coughs attacked her.

Merlin laid her back down and shushed her. “Just get better,” he said, kissing her gently on the forehead. “I’ll be here with you until you’re healthy again, do not worry.” He squeezed her hand and stayed until she drifted off to sleep, tired from her restless night.

As he reluctantly left, he noticed two figures by the window into the room. One was a rather anxious looking Lord Lancelot and Merlin couldn’t help but wonder if he did indeed have some affections for Gwen which he was shy to show. The other was a certain Prince Arthur, who was staring at him with an odd look in his eyes.

Merlin shook himself mentally and left Gwen to rest. Outside, Lancelot stood eagerly for the latest news and looked appropriately distraught to discover she hadn’t improved much. “The physician will be visiting tonight,” he promised and Merlin smiled. His eyes flicked onto Arthur, who had still been keenly observing him up until that moment and suddenly looked away. “May I suggest we adjourn before breakfast?”

Morgana eyed him critically and nodded sharply. “Arthur’s clothes will fit you well. A servant will bring you a clean set for you after a bath.” Merlin reddened and tried to refuse but Morgana frowned. “You cannot pretend you are comfortable like that?” She raised an eyebrow as he shrugged, trying not to catch the prince’s eye — he had no intention of finding out how much he disapproved. “We will arrange chambers for you.”

Merlin hesitated. “There’s really no need. I can send for a servant to pick up my own things…”

“It would be quite poor of us to not even offer these small comforts, my lord,” said Lancelot warmly and finally, Merlin decided to forgo his reservations. A servant bowed and began walking, expecting him to follow.

///

Arthur paused for a few moments in front of the closed door. As per Morgana’s orders, his manservant George had been dispatched promptly with a set of Arthur’s clothes. He wasn’t quite sure why he had willingly offered his finest clothes but he decided it was because Morgana would frown at him otherwise. Of course. No other explanation made sense, after all.

He was also not quite sure why he was waiting outside Lord Merlin’s chambers. Was it simply to ensure the lord didn’t get lost on his journey back to join the group or was it something else? Who knew? Certainly not Arthur. After dithering for a few more moments in a manner that was quite unbecoming, a phrase his old governess had often branded him with, he squared his shoulders and knocked sharply.

“Coming!” yelped a voice from inside and he chuckled quietly as he heard a small crash and a muffled, “Ouch.” Soon enough, the door opened and Arthur lost the ability to talk.

In front of him stood Lord Merlin dressed in Arthur’s softest purple tunic and dark breeches. That wasn’t the surprise — after all, Arthur himself had approved of the ensemble — but it was the way he looked. The breeches, which always restricted Arthur’s movement, fit Merlin perfectly, highlighting the usually hidden strong calves the man had. And the tunic — all Arthur could say was that purple was not the colour of royalty, but of Lord Merlin.

Vaguely, he noted the increased period of silence and looked up to find the lord suspicious. “Your Highness,” he said in a flat tone. “I wasn’t expecting your arrival.”

Arthur cleared his throat once and again as he tried to come up with an excuse. None came and he decided to just go with the truth. He really had nothing to lose. “I wanted to make sure you found your way back easily.” Something in Merlin’s face softened and he tilted his head, looking hesitant.

“That is… thoughtful,” managed Merlin eventually. He stepped aside, allowing Arthur entry. “I thought a servant would come,” he muttered, shutting the door behind him. Arthur cleared his throat, having wondered the same thing.

“Yes, well, I didn’t see the need to disturb them,” he said honestly. Surely they had better things to do than lead errant lords back to sitting rooms? But no, that was why they had footmen. At Merlin’s sceptical glance, it seemed he had realised this too and now Arthur needed a distraction. He cast his eye around Merlin’s chambers yet found himself inexplicably drawn to the lord’s face.

Merlin regarded him with a slight twinkle in his eye, something Arthur couldn’t force himself to look away from. It was captivating… he was captivating. And Arthur didn’t know why. Belatedly, he realised the lord was talking and tried to bring his attention to his words and not his lips. His perfect lips.

What was happening to him?

“Never thought you would be this considerate,” quipped Merlin and Arthur rolled his eyes although happily welcoming the change of pace.

“Is this your opinion of me?” he challenged in return. Merlin didn’t answer but instead folded his muddy clothes into a neat pile and placed them for a servant to collect. Just when Arthur thought his words would go unanswered, Merlin spoke.

“I don’t know what my opinion is, if I’m being honest.”

Arthur blinked. He hadn’t expected a serious response but in hindsight, his question had been unusually forthcoming. His father would have been disappointed: a prince was supposed to subtly assess what society painted him as, not ask them outright.

Merlin looked at him expectantly and Arthur shook himself out of his thoughts. He was supposed to lead. He gestured for him to follow and decided to consider the lord’s words at another time. One where said lord wasn’t standing beside him in his distracting attire and even more distracting lips.

///

The journey from his chambers to one of the dining rooms was by no measure a great distance but the silence of his companion made Merlin feel quite uncomfortable. And it wasn’t a welcome silence: Merlin had plenty of questions he wished to ask the Prince (Why did you really come to escort me? Why was my sister tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt you? What is your opinion of me? ) but he couldn’t form the words required. It didn’t help that he maintained a brisk pace and Merlin struggled to keep up whilst continuing to eye the decorations with disbelief — how much extravagance does one need?

Soon, they paused in front of the required area and Arthur coughed. “I’ll leave you here,” he said finally.

“You will not be breakfasting with us?” The words slipped out before he even registered what he was saying and based on Arthur’s momentary surprise, it was too late to take back. Merlin wanted to amend his sentence, if only to sound less desperate, but didn’t get the chance.

“I have to train with the knights,” said Arthur, sounding contrite. Or maybe it was Merlin’s imagination. In any case, they nodded awkwardly to each other and the Prince departed, leaving him to enter the room.

Inside he found Lord Lancelot sitting with an elderly couple he did not know. Upon seeing him, Lancelot rose to his feet and acknowledged him. “Lord Merlin, a pleasure to see you looking comfortable.” Merlin smiled almost immediately — Lord Lancelot had quite a charming countenance and interactions with him didn’t puzzle Merlin like a certain Prince had.

“Please, Lord Lancelot, you must call me Merlin.”

“Then I am simply Lancelot,” he countered easily. “May I introduce Mr and Mrs Percival?” Merlin shook Mr Percival’s hand and smiled at his wife. “This is Lord Merlin Emrys, Lady Guinevere’s older brother.”

They bowed to him. “A pleasure, my lord,” said Mr Percival. Merlin repeated the same pleasantries and looked around as he sat in his seat. His eye caught Morgana’s empty seat and Mrs Percival noticed his inquisitive looks.

“Lady Morgana likes to breakfast in the comfort of her own chambers,” she clarified. Merlin nodded along as he sipped his tea. The Emryses had breakfasted already but society deemed the city dined later. Unfortunately, Merlin’s stomach didn’t agree with society’s rules and was still quite full from his earlier dining endeavour.

Lancelot and Mrs Percival engaged in light conversation, their topics ranging from the frequent bouts of good weather they were having to plans for the rest of the season, with Mr Percival smiling along when necessary. It seemed his wife spoke enough for both of them. Merlin tried to politely respond when the time called for it but he found it difficult to push away the interaction he had had with Arthur.

He set down his cup and resisted the urge to sigh. Although Merlin wasn’t a stickler for every inane rule, it was considerably disrespectful to sigh in the middle of one’s story. His troubled expression wasn’t missed by the keen Mrs Percival nor the concerned Lancelot, the latter of which politely called out to him.

“Is everything alright, Merlin?” He looked up and attempted a smile but it came out more like a grimace. He wasn’t going to convince anyone with that and Merlin decided he might as well be honest.

“It’s the Prince. I’ve had rather a strange encounter with him and I’m quite confused,” he admitted, lightly running a hand through his slightly damp hair. “I suppose I’m struggling to understand him.”

Merlin looked at his dining companions and found them pondering his words. “Arthur can be difficult,” agreed Lancelot with a light chuckle. He helped himself to more pastries as he considered his answer but Mrs Percival came to his rescue.

“The prince is intriguing,” she said, delicately spreading apricot jam onto her scone. “As a boy, he was quite different.” Merlin looked up, interested.

“You’ve known him since childhood?”

“I am the late Queen’s aunt,” said Mrs Percival and bit into her scone. Judging by the surprise on Lancelot’s face, this appeared not to be common knowledge. “I was rather estranged from her father due to his disapproval of my marrying below our station.” Here, she paused and smiled at her husband, who beamed in response. “Although I have never once regretted my decisions, it was unexpected yet not at all unwelcome when dear Ygraine, God rest her soul, reached out to bend the broken bridges of the past. More to your question, I’ve seen Arthur since the day he was born.

“Despite what he may appear now, Arthur was a very compassionate boy. He disliked hunting, wishing instead to peacefully fish and had quite an eye for flowers,” continued Mrs Percival with a nod as Lancelot looked quite surprised. “Nothing like what he is now.”

“What happened?” asked Merlin and she chuckled.

“My lord, have any of us retained our childlike innocence and curiosity after learning of our responsibilities?” He nodded slowly: though his father had tried not to burden him with too many problems too early on, Merlin too could remember distinctly when his primary concerns shifted from enjoying himself to taking care of everything. “As the prince of the realm, Arthur has simply struggled for a longer time and more intensively,” she said nonchalantly. “Sweet Ygraine died when the boy was only a few years old, which isn’t easy for any child.”

Merlin stared into his tea, his mind still reeling from the discoveries. This meeting was revealing quite a few unknown details of the Prince’s life and he now regretted his hasty assessment from the last ball. Was Arthur really as stuck up, as arrogant, as intolerable as Merlin assumed him to be from just two short meetings? Or had he been wrong?

The long silence was broken by Mr Percival clearing his throat. “I cannot pretend to know Prince Arthur too well, but he does not share the similar resentments of his fellow class to me.” He nodded significantly and slipped back into his usual reticent self. Merlin sighed internally and promised himself to not allow his previous incorrect interpretations of Arthur’s behaviour colour his current opinion of him.

///

Luncheon was a quiet affair which Lady Morgana did join but Lord Lancelot had to slip out of due to a request from the Prince, who was once again dining separately. After ensuring Gwen received her light meal of soup and she managed to swallow some down, Merlin turned to Morgana. “Will my lady allow me the honour of accompanying her for a turn about the gardens?”

“A proposition, my lord?” asked Morgana with a playful twinkle in her eyes. She laughed as Merlin’s eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “I would love to: the honour is mine.” Merlin nodded but didn’t hesitate in asking Mr and Mrs Percival to join them too, which made Morgana laugh again.

Once they were outside and on their first circuit, she joked, “Is my lord so diligent to ensure my virtue stays untainted?”

“Contrary to what the lovely Lady le Fay believes, I do not think the Houses of Emrys and le Fay must become one.” Morgana grimaced and apologised for her mother’s words but Merlin stopped her. “No, she is not wrong to think that. In fact, I’m sure Lady le Fay only speaks what society presumes, given our closeness and your friendship with Gwen.”

Morgana stopped in her tracks and looked at him, her expression unusually concerned. “I hope I have not led you on, my lord. I do not intend to respect the ton’s presumptions and I hope it is not too late to declare plainly of my wish to remain, as ever, a dear friend of the House of Emrys. Nothing more.”

He laid a reassuring arm on her hand and smiled. “Morgana, you need not fear. I have always seen you as I do my dear Gwen. I will, in fact, be the most happiest of all when you choose your suitor. Provided he is deserving of you,” added Merlin with a serious nod which brought Morgana’s smile back.

“Well, Merlin, I regret to inform you that such a man may not exist. I suppose I shall simply have to settle,” she sighed loudly but the corners of her lips twitched.

“Never.”

They continued their slow pace coupled with a pleasant conversation concerning the beautiful displays of flowers, the unfortunate side effect of Gwen’s illness being the fact that they would not be able to learn the latest scandal of Lady Emilia at her ball and a natural progression into the type of match Merlin sought. “I am not too sure. I suppose I’m not too picky.”

“But you must have some qualities you are searching for in a bride?” Morgana waggled her eyebrows expectantly which made Merlin shake his head in disbelief. “Seriously? Not even the fact that she must be a woman?”

“I really am not too concerned with anything, Morgana. A good person who respects me and loves me is enough.” Merlin picked another daisy to add to his bouquet of flowers for Gwen — she had expressed her wish for some given how dreary her room had become and Merlin and Morgana were determined to spruce up the area.

“I wish you luck in your search then.”

///

They returned with a pile of flowers in their hand only to find Lord Lancelot setting down his own bouquet rather shyly at Gwen’s bedside. Merlin and Morgana shared a knowing look but before they could say anything, the doors to her temporary chambers opened again, this time admitting Prince Arthur. He led an elderly man inside, who was none other than the Royal Physician, Gaius.

He pushed past them and began opening his bag whilst asking Gwen how she was feeling. The others hovered further back to allow him some room and though Lancelot looked rather anxious during the assessment, Merlin felt less worried. Gwen was much more lively compared to the sight he had been greeted with that morning and even Morgana reassured him that her pallor from the night before had almost completely disappeared.

Still, it was only after Gaius smiled and declared his verdict that Lancelot breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m happy to say Lady Guinevere is well on the path to recovery. A day’s rest is advisable, although she need not remain confined to her bed. These tinctures will further improve her minor symptoms.” Merlin nodded immediately and Gaius started preparing the medicines. “You will experience drowsiness, my lady, though it is expected,” he warned and as promised, Gwen’s eyelids began to droop soon.

As they prepared to leave her once more, Prince Arthur reached suddenly for Merlin’s shoulder and he paused, uncertain by the action. Arthur too looked surprised by his own behaviour but quickly shook himself. “I, uh, I just hope it goes without saying that you and your sister are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay,” he said slightly roughly. Merlin blinked for a few seconds and then broke into a tentative smile.

“That is a generous offer, Your Highness.” After a few more seconds of hesitant staring, the two bowed at the same time and exited the chambers, trying not to look at the other.

///

Arthur set down his quill and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was dinner time, and that usually wasn’t a cause for great concern, except it also usually didn’t consist of a certain Lord Merlin dining with them. He had made his excuses for breakfast and luncheon but both Leon and Lancelot had looked unimpressed when he expressed his plan of avoiding dining with the lord for the rest of his stay.

No, Arthur didn’t have a problem with the lord, per se. Contrary to his earlier misgivings, Arthur decided Merlin was simply a strange creature who wasn’t worth the effort to hate. Therefore, he decided to be neutral in his interactions with him. And then Merlin walked out wearing his clothes and suddenly, Arthur had a new problem.

This wasn’t new. Arthur had frequently admired a servant, a squire, a guard and what else as a young boy but the difference in stations, in age, were enough to dissuade his more… explicit thoughts. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the same reservations with Lord Merlin. The man was close enough to Arthur’s age and station that now, his previous disrespectful behaviour was almost endearing .

Therefore, Arthur was rightly afraid of embarrassing himself in front of Merlin. And he rightly decided to avoid any potential embarrassing situation by limiting their interactions. But there was only so much he could control and now, Arthur sighed and pushed his letters aside to ride into battle. At the dining table, he greeted Mr and Mrs Percival with a firm handshake and a polite smile, in that order, and nodded at Lancelot and Leon, their guest of honour given his father’s empty space. Morgana demanded a full bow which Arthur didn’t entertain and instead she received an eye roll. Thankfully, he found Lord Merlin’s seat empty and hoped briefly that he decided not to grace everyone with his presence.

Arthur’s hopes were dashed a second later, when the aforementioned lord appeared with his sister at hand. Lady Guinevere was dressed in what were clearly Morgana’s clothes but the smile she wore was hers as she regarded everyone at the table with a polite curtsy. “It is a relief, my lady, to find you well enough to join us,” smiled Arthur as he kissed her hand. As Lancelot took his turn, Arthur’s eyes flicked onto Merlin and he froze.

Like before, Merlin was once again dressed in Arthur’s wardrobe and like before, Arthur’s clothes fit him like a glove. Once seated, he forced himself to look away when Merlin caught his eye and raised a questioning brow but the image of the way the fabric rippled when he flexed his arms to reach for a glass was imprinted in Arthur’s mind. It certainly didn’t help that Merlin dropped his fork on more than one occasion and when he returned, his cravat had loosened enough to reveal a tantalising strip of flesh. Arthur tugged at his own collar in an effort to focus on something other than how flustered he felt.

Why was he suddenly so hot?

“Your Highness?” His head snapped up and he berated himself for losing track of the conversation. Morgana looked expectantly at him as she speared a potato and Arthur cleared his throat, trying valiantly to put aside the prevailing thoughts of what Lord Merlin would look like with his tail coat off, and grimaced politely. “Lord Merlin was asking which one of the Bard’s plays you are partial to.”

Arthur swallowed his chicken and smiled at Merlin, who was surveying him keenly. He wondered what play the lord would be a particular fan of as he answered, “I do appreciate Romeo and Juliet.” A small surprised sound answered his statement but he took no note as he continued. “I believe it an excellent description of how love can conquer all.”

A derisive snort escaped Lord Merlin and Arthur raised an eyebrow. What was the meaning of that? Merlin sipped his wine and chuckled humourlessly. “A depiction of love conquering all? Your Highness, am I to believe we are discussing the same work by the Bard?” Arthur blinked, taken aback by his response. Never, in all his years, had anyone dared to address the Crown Prince of Camelot so flippantly. To tell him to his face that he incorrectly interpreted something was unfathomable.

Yet it happened and Lord Merlin seemed to not be finished yet. “Romeo lamented that he would never know love again after losing Rosaline and it was not even a week later he laid eyes on Juliet, who he decided was the love of his life. What shallow love is this, sir, that can conquer all?”

Merlin took a long breath and politely asked Lancelot to pass a dish whilst Arthur gaped. At Morgana’s unsubtle cough, he cleared his throat a few times and tried to come up with a fitting reply. “Well, is it not love which brought two fighting families together? Is it not love of the purest form which ended a blood feud unaffected even by royal command? How can you disregard these facts, my lord?” Arthur tried not to look too satisfied at Merlin’s prolonged silence. He took a long sip of his wine as he shot a smug grin at Morgana, who had been eyeing the exchange with great interest.

“Their love hardly solved any great feud,” remarked Merlin casually. Arthur spluttered, his hand accidentally connecting with his goblet in his astonishment at the statement. Red wine spilled, staining the pure white cloths as dark as the grave of Romeo and Juliet. Lancelot hurried to offer his handkerchief and Arthur moved aside to allow the servants to clean up his place as he listened to Lord Merlin’s latest great idea. “The Prince of Verona had it under control when he declared that under the pain of torture will the Capulets and the Montagues fight. Had Romeo never attended the Capulets’ ball, Tybalt wouldn’t have any reason to fight Romeo and the Prince’s law would have held.”

“Tybalt asked for it!” Arthur paused and tried to reign in his frustration. A part of him enjoyed the repartee between him and the lord but another part desperately wanted to win the argument. “I mean, another disagreement was destined to happen. The families hated each other and anything, from the servants to the lords and ladies arguing amongst themselves would lead to a larger fight. Is it not the young lovers’ death which put a definite end to the feud?”

Another period of silence followed his words and Arthur wondered if Merlin had given up. Had he won? Strangely, he didn’t feel as satisfied as he thought he would be. But it seemed Merlin had another card up his sleeve. “Their love may have ended a feud, yes, but it would have never survived the tests of a relationship,” he said with a sad look in his eyes. Arthur frowned: was Merlin talking about something else? “It was not realistic for them to marry after not even three days of meeting each other. They would have never lasted had it not been for their timely demises.”

“No one ever thought anything would bring the two families together,” said Arthur softly, “but they did come together. Love can achieve great feats if it’s given the chance.” Merlin finally looked up from his plate and the hesitant smile on his face was worth far more to Arthur than winning their argument. He tried not to beam proudly but settled for a polite nod of his head.

Morgana cleared her throat loudly again, drawing everyone’s attention. “I do hate to interrupt, but Gwen and I wish to retire for the evening.” Arthur turned to her sharply, intent to insist they at least stay for dessert when he realised that dessert had indeed been served and he had in fact eaten half of it already. Where had the time gone?

The men rose instead and Guinevere and Morgana left with a small curtsy. Lancelot and Merlin talked amongst themselves politely while Arthur hurriedly finished the rest of his meal, still stunned he had somehow missed multiple dishes being served. It was a blessing his father hadn’t been there to witness his behaviour.

///

Merlin knocked on his sister’s door and beamed when a beautiful sight greeted him. Gwen smiled back at him, looking as well-rested and healthy as ever. She hugged him briefly before gesturing him to a chair and closing her door.

“I take it you are feeling far better?” asked Merlin, laughing as she ran across the room to smell Lancelot’s bouquet. She nodded and began braiding the flowers in her hair as he watched. “Better enough to return?”

“I must admit, though I was in bed for most of the time, I have enjoyed our stay here,” said Gwen, weaving a ribbon into her curls. “It was quite refreshing to hold an actual conversation with Lord Lancelot than to simply smile my thanks.” She hid a small smile but wasn’t quick enough to escape Merlin’s sharp eye.

“The two of you spoke yesterday? I didn’t notice—”

“Dear brother, you seemed to be deeply engrossed with the Prince night last! I doubt you would have even noticed if we had all left, as long as your dear Prince Arthur was still there for the two of you to argue,” shot back Gwen. Merlin closed his mouth and ducked his head, slightly ashamed of the way he conducted himself last night. It had been amusing to watch Arthur respond to his casual remarks but now in the morning, he realised how improper his behaviour had been. That was the Prince of Camelot, for gods’ sake, and his sister’s potential suitor! Whatever must he think of them?

“I can assure you that won’t happen again,” said Merlin stiffly. Gwen took one look at his mortified expression and burst into laughter.

“That’s a shame: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Morgana more elated than when the Prince almost slammed his fist in rage.” Merlin began laughing too at the memory and tried to convince himself that the exchange wouldn’t have any lasting impact.

“We should head down,” he said finally once Gwen finished her hair. She looped an arm around his and the two departed, arriving at the breakfast parlour to find everyone already in attendance. He bowed and grimaced. “I apologise for our late arrival.”

“Nonsense,” said Arthur immediately. Merlin turned to him, stunned by his determined tone and he cleared his throat. “I simply mean your arrival is well-timed. We were just going to start dining.” He began to sit down and Merlin hurried to stop him.

“Your Highness, we must deny your kind offer. My sister is feeling much better and it is time we returned.”

Lancelot frowned. “You must stay for breakfast!” Merlin and Gwen shared a look but ultimately he shook his head sadly.

“We cannot encroach further on your kindness.” Lancelot nodded and settled for kissing Gwen’s hand goodbye as she blushed. Arthur repeated the gesture and finally, Morgana hugged her fondly.

Merlin shook Lancelot’s hand and bowed to Morgana before turning to Arthur. “I will offer a carriage for your journey home,” he said and as Merlin looked ready to argue, he continued, “please, I insist.” Merlin smiled and accepted the offer begrudgingly as he shook Arthur’s hand. When he pulled away, he noticed Arthur flex his hand but before he could wonder about it, Gwen returned from bidding Mr and Mrs Percival goodbye, ready to leave.

///

They arrived close to luncheon and Hunith’s euphoria at their unexpected arrival quickly morphed to stress when she discovered they had yet to eat. To the chagrin of their cook — Mrs Cook — they decided to brunch instead. Along with the unhappy mutterings of Mrs Cook as she complained of not enough warning and how her one scullery maid took the day off, they were regaled with tales from Lady Emilia’s ball the night before.

“What’s the latest news of Lady Emilia?” asked Gwen eagerly while her mother was busy fussing over Merlin. Hunith often disapproved of gossip in front of the younger ones, especially since Kara had quite the mouth on her.

Mithian glared as Kara tried to unsubtly eavesdrop as she replied, “Another suitor asked for her hand! And she told us what Lady Owen and she did in be—”

“Dears, what are you talking about?” The two girls immediately fell silent and turned to face their mother with innocent expressions. Hunith narrowed her eyes but without proof, she smiled instead. “It is a shame you could not attend the ball but I am more relieved to find you well, Gwen.”

Merlin waved a casual hand as he helped himself to the freshly baked bread Mrs Cook hastily made. “I hear there’s another one coming up where all of the guests from the previous one will be in attendance. Seriously, how many balls does a season require?”

“Brother,” sighed Kara, laying a small hand on his and patting him consolingly. “There are many things in life you won’t understand.” Sefa burst into laughter which went ignored, safe for the death glare Kara sent her. “For instance, yesterday, I danced with the love of my life.”

“Oh really?” humoured Merlin as Sefa, Isolde and Mithian shook their heads at once. Kara brightened and launched into a dramatic retelling of how she locked eyes with an unknown knight of King Cenred’s and simply knew she had to dance with him. One dance later, Kara knew what true love was. Merlin hummed along, gasping and smiling as necessary until she finished with a dreamy sigh.

“Merlin, we’ve heard her describe Sir Mordred’s handsome smile at least five times now!” cried Mithian as her younger sisters, sans Kara, agreed desperately. “I don’t think I can handle any more.”

“No, let’s hear about how Dame Morgause promised to teach me sword-fighting,” Isolde butted in and was once again met with loud disagreements. As Isolde, Sefa and Kara argued amongst themselves as to whose story was worth Merlin and Gwen’s time, Mithian turned to her older siblings.

“So Gwen, tell us how you wrapped the Prince around your little finger,” she declared loudly and the smaller fight disappeared as everyone collectively decided this was definitely worth their time.

Gwen rolled her eyes but her grin was wide as she gestured towards Merlin, who was yet again avoiding her gaze for the second time that day. “I’m afraid the Prince was too busy engaging in a serious discussion with Merlin here to notice me.”

“It wasn’t like that,” muttered Merlin but Gwen was on a roll as she recounted the entire conversation much to the delight of her sisters. Hunith made no attempt to stop her even after Merlin sent her a pleading look.

“Let them have this one, dearest.”

///

Arthur leaned back in his chair and sighed. He had tried valiantly to put the events of the past week away and to concentrate on many other pressing matters such as the knights’ training sessions or his duties as the Crown Prince of Camelot but he found himself consumed by his thoughts. Specifically, his thoughts concerning Lord Merlin.

Everything about the man was intoxicating. His bright grin when he thought no one was looking, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he was about to make a joke, his tempting form and his stubborn nature — everything about him was ingrained in Arthur’s memory. He hoped this was a temporary thing, that he would forget these little details about Merlin after he left, but no. His hand still cherished the second’s worth of contact even a week later and late at night, Arthur wondered where else the lord’s hands could make contact with him.

Leon cleared his throat pointedly, drawing Arthur reluctantly from his thoughts. The present situation consisted of Lancelot frowning at him, concern evident in his eyes. “Is everything alright? You haven’t spoken much these past few days, Arthur.”

“He is fine,” said Leon shortly, sounding quite unlike himself. Then again, the man had to deal with Arthur’s daydreams during training and basically did his jobs for him. No wonder his patience had worn thin. “Arthur is now prone to being lost in his musings. I’d advise you to adapt to it, Lancelot.”

Arthur rolled his eyes but decided he was going to work this out. He couldn’t allow Lord Merlin to distract him so! “I must admit, I am struggling to draw my attentions from a certain… person who has captured my interests.” He tried to remain vague but the knowing expression on his friends told him it was of little use.

“Just say your heart is fixated on Lord Merlin,” said Lancelot with a teasing smile.

“It’s not obvious! The lord and I are shaping up to become good friends,” he argued. Arthur refused to admit his internal battles had been so clear that even Lancelot and Leon could pick up on it. The two men shared an exasperated look and raised their eyebrows until Arthur caved. “Fine! Yes, I appear to have feelings for Merlin.”

“Just… feelings?” said Leon dryly. At Arthur’s confused look, he expanded, “We were all there, Arthur. At dinner, we all bore witness to how you and the lord blatantly flirted with one another.”

Arthur spluttered slightly and turned to Lancelot, hoping he would be less direct. “It was rather obvious, Arthur. I’ve never seen you like that with anyone.” He still disagreed resolutely.

“I would have argued that way with anyone.”

“Even Lady Guinevere?” Arthur began to voice his agreement but paused. No. He would have smiled politely and let her express her opinions but he wouldn’t have disagreed. Leon nodded at his hesitance.

“What about any other lord? You wouldn’t have behaved in the same way then either, would you?” No, he wouldn’t. “So why did you with Lord Merlin?” Well there was but one answer to that question.

“I… I love him,” said Arthur, tasting the words. It felt right. He did love Merlin. His obsession, his desperation, these were all the symptoms of love. But how could he? Lord Merlin most likely preferred the company of women but moreover, his social standing was so beneath Arthur’s! It was one thing to marry a woman of a lower station and raise her to a princess but a lord? That too one as decidedly poor as Lord Merlin Emrys? He voiced these thoughts aloud and was met with equal expressions of denial.

“Firstly, he evidently returns your feelings, Arthur. No man, lord or otherwise, would speak in such a spirited manner in the presence of the fairer sex if he were concerned with their opinion of him,” said Leon, his eyes serious. Arthur nodded slowly. Even at dances, though Arthur had not paid close attention before, Merlin seemed to only dance to appear polite. Never more than once with the same lady and never close enough to warrant rumours. “As for his standing,” he continued, “I do not believe that is your biggest concern. You are a man wishing to marry another man. Society will be far more interested in that.”

At Arthur’s frown, Lancelot decided to assist Leon. “I’m sure what he means is that after your marriage, once everything works out, your families will unite and finances will not be a great concern. Do not allow such a simple hurdle to block your love, if it is true.”

“It is true, I do love him.” Both Leon and Lancelot smiled brightly and called in a servant to pour them wine to celebrate the occasion. As Arthur sipped from his goblet, he decided he was going to declare his affections.

///

Merlin rolled his shoulders and decided to take a leaf out of the absent Prince’s book and refused to dance. This meant many a hopeful lady approached him with her dance card held eagerly out and left with a despondent expression. Their disappointment didn’t last long as they captured another potential target.

His abstinence had no particular objective but it did mean the ball was more bearable. Gwen was once again off with Lord Lancelot, who had appeared alone much to the excitement of the party as they wondered why the Prince had refused to attend. Merlin decided the prat was busy reading Romeo and Juliet and was wondering why he had interpreted so wrongly. Mithian had taken a liking to Morgana, who now needed a new best friend, and the two toured the gardens together. They had pointedly left Merlin out of their group but becoming a wallflower was growing on him.

As ever, another lady approached him but upon closer inspection, it was none other than Dame Morgause. Merlin courteously bowed to her, a gesture she repeated, and to her companion, who was a young boy with a bright smile and a brighter knight’s uniform. “Lord Emrys, may I introduce Sir Mordred?”

Merlin greeted him politely. “A pleasure, Sir Knight. I have heard a very favourable account of you from my youngest sister.”

“Meeting Miss Kara was entirely my good fortune.” Merlin’s smile grew, delighted by Mordred’s pleasant personality and charming countenance. Kara hadn’t been exaggerating about his handsome qualities.

“Mordred is a sweet talker,” confirmed Morgause, her smile slightly dimming she continued, “though it is a consequence of the hard life he has faced.” Merlin turned to Mordred, his sympathies apparent on his face. Morgause gestured for him to speak as Mordred ducked his head shyly.

“It is no great matter,” he began, “and I do not wish to speak ill of the Prince, my lord.” Merlin’s attention was drawn and he listened raptly as Mordred slowly added, “But I cannot disregard the fact that Prince Arthur had made my life a living misery.

“I was the orphan son of Lord Cerdan and Lord Eldred graciously took me in upon my parents’ passing, shaping me into the man I am today. However, it appears that I bring misery to those who show me kindness, because Lord Eldred passed soon after, leaving me alone once more. King Uther once more helped me by making me a knight of Camelot, a position I could not be more grateful for.” He paused to accept an offered glass of wine from Morgause. With a quick apology, Mordred pressed on. “I resolved to become the very best knight possible as a way to express my gratitude. I volunteered for patrols, I followed the king at all times to protect him, I even regularly helped the servants with their chores to make sure I helped every citizen of Camelot. My efforts paid off and I was soon regarded as the most chivalrous knight. One day, that all changed.”

“Why?” asked Merlin immediately, hooked by his story. Mordred gulped and looked unable to continue his story but Morgause stepped in.

“Mordred doesn’t go to the tavern. Ever. But the Prince forced him to one day and through a game of fair gambling, accused him of stealing from the royal coffers and disgraced him in front of his fellow knights and citizens.”

“I was stripped of my knighthood,” he said, nodding when Merlin expressed his horrified shock. “Banished, never to return. I knew it was what I deserved though. It was too ridiculous to hope for a happy life, especially after the life I’ve lead.” Mordred sighed, a tear slowly rolling down his cheek. “When Dame Morgause convinced me to turn to King Cenred, I was hesitant: I didn’t want to take advantage of another king, but I’m glad she forced me to.” He turned to her with a small smile and was rewarded with a pat on his curls, which made him laugh. Merlin watched the exchange with a fond smile but he couldn’t put aside the rage he felt on Mordred’s behalf. No one deserved that!

A pair of young ladies approached them and Mordred immediately promised both of them a dance in the gallant manner of a knight. He bowed apologetically as he made his exit. Morgause turned to Merlin with a serious expression. “My sister tells me yours is hopeful for a match with Prince Arthur. I brought Mordred so you could see just what sort that Prince is.”

“Thank you,” said Merlin gratefully. His earlier dislike was unjustified because he should’ve actually despised Arthur. “I have no intention of connecting our families in any way.” Morgause bowed politely and made to leave but her sister appeared with Mithian in arm.

“Merlin, I have excellent news,” smiled Morgana. “Mother wishes to invite you to our country home!” At Merlin’s surprised expression, she hastily explained further. “Her design isn’t to set up a match for us, but she has seen the love blossoming between Gwen and her beau, Lord Lancelot. Mother is convinced a week away from these ambitious mamas is what it will take for Lord Lancelot to propose.”

“Then I am incredibly grateful for Lady le Fay’s kind invitation and happily accept,” he said and both Morgana and Mithian beamed at him.

“It is a shame I cannot attend,” said Morgause. “I hear King Cenred wishes to return to his lands tomorrow. If you will excuse me, I must convey this news to my mother and face her disappointment as usual,” she added with a dry chuckle.

///

Arthur looked out of his window and smiled as he finally saw the sight he had been waiting for with little patience. Lord Merlin stepped out of a plain carriage and helped his sisters, Lady Guinevere and Lady Mithian, out.

Though the women were adorned in their finest silks, Arthur’s eye was fixated on Merlin’s olive-green tailcoat, which accentuated the slightness of his figure. His gaze drifted down the lord’s back and lower until he forced himself to look away. It was quite improper to ogle like so.

With the Emryses arrival, their party was finally complete and Arthur followed his servant, Elyan, down to the library where they were gathered. Here, Lancelot was already amusing Lord le Fay whilst Morgana was receiving the Emryses with a bright smile. Arthur greeted Lady le Fay with a courteous kiss on her hand and she blushed, rolling her eyes at his antics.

“Don’t waste your charms on me, Arthur,” she said with a laugh. “Instead, start thinking about your princess!”

“Indeed I have, Lady Vivian.” She raised her eyebrows but before she could force the answer out of him, Merlin approached them with a silk basket in hand. Arthur decided to slip away and speak with him later but for a second, it looked as though Merlin was glaring at him. He shook his head, certain he had imagined things.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully on account of the sudden downpour outside. Lady le Fay lamented loudly of how her plans had been ruined by the weather but soon, she announced that a local operatic singer to entertain them after dinner, leaving everyone free until it was time to dine.

Arthur closely observed the others and once he was satisfied that Merlin was alone in the private library of Lord le Fay’s, he took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and entered. Inside, Merlin was curled up in the armchair with an opened book balancing on his knee. He chewed his lip as he scrutinised the page in front of him and Arthur reminded himself to stay on track. He could admire the work of art every day for the rest of his life if he focused now.

“Lord Merlin,” he called weakly, attracting the other man’s attention. Suddenly, his mouth was very dry and Arthur looked around desperately for some water. His pleas went unanswered and more importantly, Merlin stared at him expectantly. He had to speak now. Still, when his mouth opened, nothing came out and Arthur struggled to remain calm. Why was this so difficult? He took another deep breath and finally, the words spilled from his lips.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

///

Merlin blinked, certain he had misheard. Did Arthur just… propose to him? He had come into the library intent on reading a few poems to pass time and revelled in the quiet atmosphere. Well, he had been revelling until the door opened, revealing Prince Arthur. Merlin had hoped he wasn’t going to stay long but it seemed that was not the case.

His prolonged silence, on account of his shock, disbelief and downright confusion, appeared to be sufficient encouragement for Arthur to continue. He spoke of how desperately he longed for Merlin’s touch, a sentiment he did not share and was frankly quite surprised that the Prince even felt this way given their previous encounters had been nothing but respectful; how he wished to spend the rest of his life with Merlin, a sharp contrast from their last meeting where they argued passionately; and ended with a lovely mention of how only Arthur was capable of rescuing the Emryses from their apparent poverty because, “Why else would you rent a carriage everywhere or encourage your sisters to choose wealthy matches?”

Throughout the doomed proposal, though Merlin thoroughly detested the man, he couldn’t help but feel pity: Arthur seemed to have deep affections for him but Merlin couldn’t reciprocate the sentiments and regretted having to reject him. That was until Arthur suggested Merlin was practically whoring his sisters out; a statement which had him leaping to his feet in outrage, his forgotten book falling to the floor. Arthur didn’t appear to notice anything amiss and continued to ask, nay, he had all but assured himself he deserved Merlin’s hand in marriage!

“Good sir, I beg you, stop!” That worked as intended and Arthur finally stopped expressing his concern that his decision to marry into such a family would be a mark upon his honour. Merlin paused slightly to make sure he was composed enough to answer but it was a difficult action, especially since Arthur straightened and smiled, as though ready to hear his acceptance of this absurd proposal. “You must forgive me if I misspeak as I have never been trained in the event of being on the receiving end of a proposal, but I understand I am to thank you for your sentiments, even if they are not reciprocated.

“But I am unable to, Your Highness, because I have never wished for these sentiments! I do not want your favourable opinion of me — the one you have begrudgingly assigned me, given how much it must pain you to associate one so high and mighty as yourself, good sir, with us mere lords! I apologise if I cause you pain with my words but I am led to believe it will be no great problem for you to forget me given my family’s destitution and how we are forced to dishonour our women!”

Merlin’s hope of cold civility had long been sacrificed for seething rage as he almost shouted his answer. He had little regrets though and was in fact proud of himself for not marching up to the Prince and slapping him across his face. The same face which also struggled with composure and flushed an ugly shade of red as he attempted to conduct himself with the propriety Merlin had forsaken.

Eventually, Arthur said in a tone of forced calmness, “Is this the answer I have the honour of receiving? And in such a manner? I suppose I must not enquire behind the reason for such uncivilised conduct, lest Lord Emrys takes offence yet again!”

Merlin’s eyes flashed in anger. “I suppose I must not enquire why the Prince of Camelot has chosen to condescend himself so much as to associate with the likes of us! Why, good sir, have you chosen to ridicule me in this manner and then question why I have answered like so? I am fully aware of what you think of me and my sisters—”

“And what is that?” asked Arthur shortly. “How is it you are aware of my opinion of you, Lord Emrys?”

“It is obvious you dislike us deeply,” said Merlin flippantly. “Gwen is after all, tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt you and—”

“This again?” Arthur crossed his arms as he narrowed his eyes. “I have yet to meet a respected member of court declare more proudly than yourself of their knowledge gained by eavesdropping like a coward!”

“The fact remains! You have yet to change your assessment of her and though that should have been my first indication of what your character exactly is, I foolishly hoped that was not all. But then I saw for myself that you are completely unlike the respectable members of court you so clearly value!” Merlin sneered as Arthur furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean Sir Mordred and his great misfortunes of course! Or is it too much for me to expect Prince Arthur to remember every poor soul he ruined the life of?”

Arthur huffed an incredulous laugh, which sought only to enrage Merlin further. “Sir Mordred’s great misfortunes?” he repeated contemptuously.

“Only you would regard a man so flippantly after stripping him of his livelihood! You are the reason he believes he is incapable of love, of stability, of happiness and yet you are here seeking your own desires as was ingrained into you from your birth. Tell me, how often has daddy dearest told you to pursue whatever you fancy?” spat Merlin, his lip curling as Arthur backed away. “When a child is granted their every wish, they become unrealistic, irrational, impossible or in a simpler word so you may understand, Your Highness, plain foolish! You seem to forget the society you live in, the one you are to rule one day: will they accept your choice of spouse? Or do you intend to hide me away, like you did with Sir Mordred? For even if I feel the same way about you as you I, nothing upon this earth can force me to live as your mistress!” Arthur’s lips became thinner throughout his speech until the moment he finished.

“So this is your opinion of me?” he asked disdainfully. “I suspect you wish for me to thank you for being so thorough in your explanation of my faults! Why, it seems everything was my mistake! It was my mistake, was it not, that Sir Mordred turned into a lying cheat? It was my mistake, was it not, that we were born into a society which frowns at people like us? It is also my mistake that your family is so decidedly beneath my own and yet you expect me to somehow rejoice in the inferiority of your connections!”

Merlin raised his eyebrow and he found himself oddly calm all of a sudden. It seemed his composure had returned and he decided it was better late than never. “Prince Arthur, I mean no disrespect when I ask you: in all seriousness, did you think it would help your case if you addressed me and my family in such an ungentleman-like manner?” Arthur, who had been silently fuming, stared back at him, startled. He waited, expecting a response, but Arthur remained silent. “In another world, had I shared your feelings, there is no possible way this proposal would have convinced me to accept your hand. You shame everything I hold dear, you offer no explanations for your cruel actions and moreover, you seem to hold an idealistic view of the future you wish for us to share.” Arthur’s astonishment became more apparent as his expression morphed from disdainful confusion to mortification. But Merlin wasn’t finished.

“When I first formed my opinion of you — arrogant, conceited and supercilious — I worried I had been hasty, but now I see I was fully informed when I made my judgement. I had been generous , in fact. Though this proposal is a surprise, I can safely say that upon my first meeting of you, I could have assured you then that you were the last viable option whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.”

“My lord, I ask you to stop,” said Arthur, his countenance a sharp contrast from before. He was now incredibly pale and his eyes, which had been glaring at Merlin, were now studiously fixed on the floor. His hands too couldn’t keep still and in short, it appeared as though he were ready to run out. “I have heard enough to comprehend your feelings and I am wholly ashamed of my behaviour here this afternoon. Forgive me for taking so much of your time and please accept my best wishes as I take your leave now.”

With that, Arthur marched purposefully yet quickly out of the library, leaving Merlin to collapse back into his armchair, utterly stunned by the events of the past hour.

///

For the rest of the short day, Merlin determinedly avoided Arthur and was glad to find that the Prince had taken a similar course of action. Dinner was an unremarkable affair as he conversed politely with Lady le Fay and Mithian on either side of him. He pretended to take no note of the Prince who sat a few seats down his right. The conversations kept his mind quite occupied but when the prima donna took centre stage to soothe the guests with her aria, Merlin’s mind used the singing as the perfect background to consider the proposal.

He simply couldn’t believe it. It was so unexpected! The Prince had been rude at first, and then decent, and then expressed his deep affections! But the more Merlin wondered, he found he wasn’t offended by the gesture. Yes, he despised the man for his words and actions, but somehow, Merlin knew there must be an explanation. It was this explanation his mind worked endlessly on throughout the singing and even into the night.

When he awoke the next morning, he still felt troubled from the day before. Merlin politely bowed out of the late breakfast and after assuring everyone he felt quite well and merely wished to tour the woods, he left quickly, once again pretending to take no note of the Prince who keenly observed him. Once out, Merlin found himself able to breathe easily. The previous day’s heavy rainfall had left a pleasant freshness in the air and he drank it in as he took in his surroundings, comparing those to his home.

It was on his fourth or fifth circuit of the same path that he noticed a figure in the distance. Wondering who this new arrival was, Merlin abandoned his route and walked until he regretted his decision, for in front of him was none other than Prince Arthur. Merlin hoped to make his excuses and leave but the Prince stopped him with a pained expression.

He held out a letter and Merlin accepted without a second thought. “Will you do me the honour of reading this, sir?” Arthur did not wait for Merlin’s agreement and instead bowed shortly before retreating into the distance once more. The encounter was incredibly puzzling but Merlin was more intrigued by the letter in his hand. Tearing it open, he noticed it contained two sheets of letter paper, written quite thorough with small penmanship. The envelope too was written in full with the same close hand and Merlin began both his journey back and the letter.

“Be not alarmed, my lord, when receiving this letter for this will not contain a repetition of any of the sentiments I expressed the night before. I have no intention of renewing those words, not when they disgust you so. Though my actions last night have been so horrifying that I struggle to forget them and am reminded every time I close my eyes of the disappointing manner I behaved in, I beg you read this with a clear view of me. It is too much to ask, yes, but Lord Emrys, I fear I cannot think of another way to answer your reasonable questions and I hope I can rely on your strong sense of justice to not judge a man prematurely.

“Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. One, of course, was the unfair and untrue assessment I had rashly handed your dear sister, Lady Guinevere Emrys, and the other is my supposed mistreatment of a certain respected Sir Knight, Sir Mordred. I hope to offer an explanation, as you have wisely suggested yesterday, and I can only desire that this will show me in a more favourable light.

“Of the first, I must simply say, my lord, that you are wholly correct. Prior to the ball thrown in my honour, I expressed to my closest confidants my dislike of the division between nobility and peasantry. After the events of the previous night, you are no doubt aware of my preferences and how I seek the company of men. It was both my disdain for the strict separation of the classes and the crushing knowledge that I may never openly declare my affections that placed me in an unhappy mood that evening. Whenever my eye caught upon a lady, no matter how well-respected, pleasant or handsome she looked, I only took note of the fact that she were a responsibility of mine. Another duty I must fulfil for my people, another dragon to slay. I cannot pretend to know you, sir, but I am sure this feeling is not one I alone am privy to. When I laid eyes on your charming sister, I was determined to remain as disagreeable as possible, if only to assure myself that I did not need to always pander to society’s expectations of me. It is my greatest regret that Lady Guinevere was directly affected by my struggles. After I had the pleasure of dancing with and engaging her in polite yet interesting conversation, I realised that despite my childish determination to condemn myself to an unhappy life, I had the chance to live a few of my desires. Lady Guinevere would make an excellent queen, of this I was sure, and it is a credit to your highly respectable mother and father that she is also a woman of immense kindness as to ensure that the company I prefer to keep can be arranged. It is these qualities of herself that make her the most handsome woman I have the honour of making acquaintance and I hope you will accept my humble apologies for how I have spoken of her before. I wish her the very best in her every endeavour and regardless of what our shared future ends up as, I should like her to know that she may very readily rely upon me for any difficulty she faces.

“As for the second offence, I must first state I do not know the extent of what Sir Mordred has conveyed to you upon your meeting, though if your words were any indication, I am led to believe it is a most distorted account of the truth. I will lay only the facts at your feet and I trust my lord will wait before deciding his standing on the matter. Sir Mordred Cerdan was initially simply Mordred, the only son of Lord Cerdan, and remained so until the premature death of his father. Lord Cerdan, as your father may have no doubt shared with you, was a respected if not smaller member of court and so it was an easy faith in him shared by a few more older members that prompted Lord Eldred to take the orphaned son in. From there, I have heard that Lancelot and Mordred became good acquaintances until the death of Lord Eldred, upon which my father conceded to offer Lancelot a home at my request. It was also at my behest that Mordred came to the castle to be trained up a knight, for I did not want Lancelot to feel his only friend was snatched away from him alongside his father. To his credit, Mordred became a good knight and I enjoyed training him up when I took over from my father and it was this good opinion of him that was shared amongst all the knights which prompted us to invite him to an informal gathering held at the tavern. I did not stay long but my short stay was plenty of time for me to participate in some unfortunate gambling and Sir Mordred emerged quite the victor, an attribute of his good fortune, we surmised. However the next day, I was made aware of an exceedingly large amount missing from our royal treasury. This amount was so great that my father’s then ill health, which I have made every effort to conceal from the public for fear of upset, took a turn for the worse. With such drastic consequences, I was urged by both our advisors, councilmen and by my own conscience to find the culprit. It was to my horror I realised that our newest, model knight was in fact responsible: his winnings from the gambling were mixed with the stolen money, evidenced by the size of the cash bundle hidden in his bed chamber. We held a private trial for while we sought answers, I did not wish to publicly shame a man without knowing the full truth. I then found out that Mordred had quite the taste for a lavish lifestyle, developed from his inheritance from both his father and Lord Eldred. When that money ran out, he had to resort to these methods to supplement his way of life. I was also made aware that he does not have any luck on his side, but has in fact a young boy who assisted him in stealing my men’s money that night. With such evidence and his own confession, I dealt Mordred a fitting sentence wherein I stripped him of his knighthood but I did not demand he return his unlawful winnings, only the money from the royal treasury, and I asked him simply to never return to my castle. Given his address, I understand he has found employment as King Cenred’s knight and though I suppose I should rejoice the fact that Sir Mordred appears to be a changed man, I must express my concerns that he is a very shrewd individual and this sudden switch in character is not without its own machinations. I know not what he intends to achieve though, unless it is to dishonour me, in which case I find he has been quite successful.

“You may rightly wonder, my lord, why I did not express this night last and I must confess it is because I did not have the same control over myself as I did after a few moments of introspection. A wise man as yourself may question the veracity of my statements and I can offer you Lord Lancelot, whom I have had the immense privilege of relying upon during these times. I have taken the liberty of informing him of his involvement in my letter so you may freely request a meeting.

“I can only add, Lord Emrys, that I wish you well and remain, as ever,

“Prince Arthur Pendragon”

The letter slipped from Merlin’s hands as he finished reading it but he made no attempt to pick it up. He could not believe it. The entire contents of the letter had evoked wildly different emotions from him: at first, eagerness and then sympathy and pity as he read about Gwen. But then when he came to the part about Sir Mordred, Merlin nearly stopped reading from shock. The situation was completely unlike what he had imagined! And to think he had seen Sir Mordred as the victim!

Merlin blinked a few times, realising belatedly he was in front of the le Fays’ home and shook himself out of his stupor. He was still numb from the facts he had just learned but had the presence of mind to pick up his letter and head inside. He, however, lacked the attention required to sidestep his sisters, who were walking arm in arm.

“Brother!” Mithian’s voice sounded annoyed and then morphed into concern as she no doubt noticed the faraway look in his eyes. A few moments later, Merlin found himself sitting in an armchair in the main library, facing his two suspicious sisters. “Are you alright?”

Merlin hesitated for just a second before the words left him in a frenzy. He spoke of the unexpected proposal, of his vocal rejection and of the letter he received that morning. As Gwen and Mithian surveyed the letter, their own surprise growing with each line they read, Merlin hastily gulped down some water.

“Oh my,” said Gwen at last. Merlin snorted by her reaction, or lack thereof.

“Oh my indeed. I keep thinking that it cannot be true — I have spoken to Sir Mordred myself and he appeared most charming!” Merlin massaged the bridge of his nose as he described their quick conversation but paused when Mithian frowned.

“So he came to you and immediately began telling you his story? A tragic backstory isn’t quite what someone chooses as an introduction.”

“No,” agreed Gwen, “unless they intended to paint a certain version of themselves. Sir Mordred must have sought to spread this story of himself before his truth came out.”

Merlin listened to their theories, still shocked by the revelations, but more horrified by his own actions. He had accused an honest man and sided with a criminal! “I have never known myself until this day,” he said quietly, drawing silence from his sisters. “I was abhorrent with my words and… horrible!”

Gwen laid a comforting hand on his shoulder as Mithian shook her head. “It is what you were lead to believe.You cannot blame yourself—”

“But I must!” Merlin stood up from his chair and began pacing, agitated by his actions. “I accused him of ruining livelihoods and I called him a disgrace! I, who did not seek to at least ensure the one I protect deserved my kind words. I am disgusted with myself now.”

Mithian and Gwen shared a look but did not say anything as they waited for their brother to sit once more. “Merlin, listen,” said Gwen firmly, “that was an honest mistake, which I am sure the Prince recognises. And as for your behaviour, you must simply apologise.”

Merlin, who had been resting his head in his hands, looked up, an expression of fear evident. “Apologise? How— what do I say? What if he is disgusted by me? As he should be—”

“My god, it is true, you do love each other!” said Mithian with an exaggerated eye roll. Merlin spluttered. “Why else are you so desperate for him to maintain a good opinion of you?” she challenged.

Silence followed. “He is the prince?” The reason was weak and they all knew it given how often Merlin rarely respected the nobility, let alone the aristocracy or the royalty. He cleared his throat. “I simply do not wish for anyone to have an unfavourable opinion of me. I do not like the Prince.” Sceptical faces blinked back at him.

“Whatever you say, dear brother.”

///

It was the third day of their sojourn in the country and Lord le Fay suggested a few rounds of billiards for the men whilst the ladies practised their music. It was a welcome suggestion and soon, Lancelot, Arthur, Merlin and Lord Gorlois gathered by the table.

It was a relaxed game of which Arthur soon emerged the victor and was rewarded by praise from all. All except Merlin, that is. He had not intended to be disagreeable, but was in fact distracted. Every time the prince took his shot, he had a habit of flexing his fingers — Lancelot joked it was this subtle action which often led to his victory — and Merlin found his attention stolen by it. He had never appreciated how perfect his hands were and now he was paying the price.

“Merlin, are you playing to win, my friend?” asked Lord Gorlois after their third round. Merlin was so far behind that in any other situation, he would have been mortified by his poor show. It was no consequence as of now though because his eye was caught by Arthur’s crooked smile as he spoke quietly with Lancelot. The sight was so breath-taking that Merlin completely forgot everything around him and drank it in like a starved man.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion. Merlin was so abysmal in all of his normal daily tasks — playing a game of cards, conversing, eating, walking — as he could only focus on Arthur. His golden hair, his twinkling eyes, his subtle dimples, everything about Arthur was so distracting and Merlin made a fool of himself as he observed him keenly, as though he had never seen Arthur before.

And then, things went even more south than before.

///

The next day, with the weather finally looking promising, Lady le Fay encouraged the men to spend the day hunting. While Arthur did not strongly oppose the suggestion, it appeared Merlin was quite unhappy. Then again, Arthur was not sure about him given his strange behaviour of the previous day. He wondered if the lord was struggling to return to his usual conduct because of his abhorrence of Arthur.

Nevertheless, they had a successful hunt despite Merlin’s frequent interruptions and as they headed home, Lancelot gestured to the lakeside, where it seemed that the ladies were taking a reprieve. They dismounted and sent their horses away as they approached the women, bowing politely and remarking upon the favourable weather and what plans they had for the rest of the day.

Arthur engaged Lady Mithian in polite conversation and found her to be just as charming as her siblings. It was after a particularly witty comment that evoked a sudden outburst of laughter from her and also caused her bonnet to free itself. The wind picked it up and blew it straight into the lake.

“Oh no,” said Lady Mithian sadly as she watched her bonnet sink. “I did like that one: it was a present from my brother.” She sighed and turned back to Arthur. “Well, I suppose it did not like me as much as I did it.”

Arthur pressed his lips and bowed once before stepping away. He intended to retrieve it, naturally, and so pulled off his tailcoat and cravat until he stood in just his undershirt and breeches. Without a second thought, he dived head first into the water as his companions gasped.

It didn’t take long to locate and rescue the silk bonnet, which he placed on the side of the banks and began to pull himself out as Mithian expressed her gratitude.

///

Merlin, who had sternly forbidden himself from even looking at Prince Arthur, was speaking to Morgana about his sister, who was now blushing as she spoke quietly with Lancelot, when he heard a splash. Fearing an accident, his head whipped to the lake, only to find a captivating scene.

Close to the lake were some abandoned clothes and Mithian’s bonnet, but that wasn’t the part which drew and held his interest. No, for in the lake was none other than Prince Arthur. As he pulled himself out, Merlin watched hungrily, noticing the way his transparent shirt clung to his body, giving him a clear view of what was normally hidden. His muscles rippled as Arthur stood and walked around and Merlin gulped, transfixed by what he saw. It was only when Mithian nudged him sharply, her bonnet now in her other hand, that he realised his mouth was still hanging open.

Merlin shook himself and prayed no one else had noticed his momentary lapse in composure before heading inside. He had an urgent problem to deal with first.

///

“Merlin.”

He awoke with a start, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness of the room. Suddenly, the window opened, revealing a bright moon which illuminated his surroundings. In front of his bed stood Arthur, in the same wet shirt from before.

In just the wet shirt.

“Ar— Your Highness?” corrected Merlin, slightly puzzled as he climbed out of bed and stood in his sleep clothes. He forced his eyes to stay on the prince’s face but the temptation to let his gaze drift downwards was consuming him. “Is something the matter?”

Arthur didn’t answer him but instead began advancing closer. “Yes, Merlin,” he breathed once he was close enough so that Merlin’s entire field of vision was filled with him. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Merlin didn’t have time to question this statement as the next thing he became aware of was the feel of Arthur’s lips on his. He hesitated for less than a second before kissing him back with equal fervour. A hand snaked around his back and Arthur continued pushing back until Merlin felt the wall press against him as well yet neither of them broke the kiss.

Small moans escaped him as he ran his fingers through Arthur’ silky hair, the very hair he thought of constantly, and tugged his head back until Merlin pulled away to kiss his neck as Arthur gasped. “Oh god,” he sighed, his rough voice urging Merlin on. “You have no idea how long I wanted this.”

“Me too,” murmured Merlin, his other hand gripping Arthur’s neck and pulling it closer when he felt it was too far. Arthur pushed himself in and Merlin gasped when he felt his hand run down the front of his body and into his trousers.

All of a sudden, a loud clatter interrupted them. Merlin sat up and opened his eyes, finding himself once again in his bed but with a distinct lack of Arthur. The sunlight filtered into the room, revealing a sheepish looking Gwaine, his servant, who apologised. “I dropped the vase,” he explained, gesturing to the broken glass.

Merlin flopped back onto his bed as he realised it was just a dream. A very vivid dream which evoked a very physical response from him. He attempted to cover up the evidence but Gwaine raised an eyebrow. When he realised what Merlin was doing, he broke out into a wide grin.

“Did I interrupt your special dream, my lord?” he asked teasingly. Merlin rolled his eyes and didn’t answer him, instead enquiring about the day’s activities as he tried to put his dreams aside.

He was in trouble now, wasn’t he?

///

Merlin put down the letter, his heart skipping a beat in dread. The group had convened for an early breakfast, intent on promenading later, and it was at the breakfast table when the footmen delivered a few letters. When he recognised his mother’s handwriting, Merlin had been confused but never would he have guessed the subject of her letter.

Mithian craned her neck to read it whilst Gwen tried to subtly gauge Merlin’s expression but they did not need to because Merlin readily handed the letter to his sisters to save them the struggle. He watched their eyes run down the lines, the horror becoming more and more apparent, until they looked at him with thinly veiled fear. Little had his mother known the effect of her letter.

“Dearest Merlin,

“My child, I hope you will forgive me for not inquiring of your health or happiness for I am afraid I have some troubling news. Because of your and your sisters absences, the little ones had become most disagreeable until I suggested they travel with the Revenant, who was on his way to King Cenred’s lands, and they visit your Aunt Alice. I had hoped a change of scenery would improve their mood and so they departed the day before last. Late last night, I received an urgent letter from Alice which prompted me to pen this missive posthaste. I beg you, as soon as you’ve read this, you depart and stop Kara from eloping with the knight she has spoken oft of.

“Forgive me, my dear, for placing such a burden on your shoulders. It pains me to watch you struggle but I am more terrified of Kara’s future. I have included the letter she left Alice in the desperate belief that it might aid you.

“Stay safe, my sweet bee,

“Mother”

Merlin fished for the second letter and smoothed it out on the table so everyone could read it at once.

“Auntie Alice,

“This is ever so exciting! By the time you’re reading this, I will no longer be Kara Emrys but instead Lady Kara Cerdan, for I will have fulfilled the very reason I am alive for! I will have married my love, Sir Mordred. Is this not the most joyous news of late, auntie? I know you must be so disappointed for our hasty ceremony, and I know I described only yesterday of how I dreamed of being wed in a palace alongside Gwen, but Mordred assures me the Gardens of Avalon are even more extravagant. My wedding will be the grandest occasion ever to happen! How I wish I could see the look on Sefa’s face when she realises that I am married before her! If you could send a watercolour of her reaction, it would be a very pleasing wedding gift.

“Please inform my mother that she is to expect my husband (gosh, I cannot believe I am able to write that word!) when we return.

“This will be the last time ever I will sign off as, 

“Kara Emrys”

“This cannot be,” whispered Gwen at last. She searched the envelope and then scrutinised both letters yet again, as though hoping for a final note declaring the previous messages to be an elaborate joke. “This can’t be happening, Merlin!”

Her outburst drew the attention of the rest of the table and Lord le Fay noticed the three Emrys’s pale expressions. “Is anything the matter? Lord Merlin?”

Merlin cleared his throat and stood up. This wasn’t a matter he could keep secret and, more importantly, it was crucial to save Kara, regardless of what it meant for their honour. “I’m afraid my sisters and I will have to leave early.” Lady le Fay, Morgana and Lancelot immediately and in unison expressed their disagreement with his statement but he shouldered on with an apologetic nod. “I must stop a wedding, you see. My youngest sister, Kara, appears to have eloped with… Sir Mordred.”

Shocked faces greeted him but Merlin was most interested in Arthur’s reaction. The Prince’s face was impassive except for the way his eyes widened by a small degree. But Merlin didn’t have the liberty of freely assessing his expressions for time was of the essence. “Would you like us to leave at once?” asked Lancelot, half rising out of his chair. Merlin shook his head firmly.

“Please, I must ask you all continue to enjoy your stay.”

“It is not enjoyable at all, my lord, knowing of the struggles you will face,” said Morgana but Merlin wasn’t convinced.

“It is within my control. I simply ask for a male chaperone so I may send my sisters back home as I leave for the Gardens of Avalon.” Lord le Fay nodded and barked a few orders at the waiting servants, to which Merlin was grateful for. Though Mithian and Gwen looked unhappy, they didn’t argue. “My lord, my lady, I must ask you forgive me for this unfortunate obstacle in our plans—”

“Lord Merlin, please, there is nothing here for you to worry about,” assured Lady le Fay. “Now make haste: your sister’s virtue is at stake here!” Merlin didn’t need any more prompting as he picked up his tail coat and left to wait for a carriage to be readied. It was here that Prince Arthur met him, armed with his own tail coat and a determined look.

“Your Highness, you need not come,” said Merlin stiffly. Despite the gravity of the situation, he couldn’t help but remember his vivid dreams from the morning and Merlin struggled to maintain his composure, especially once he realised where exactly Arthur’s hands had been in his explicit fantasy.

Arthur seemed to misinterpret his struggles. “I understand I have offended you deeply, my lord, but I ask you let me join you.” He paused and continued after clearing his throat. “I feel responsible for this situation; had I never left Mordred free, your sister would not be in this position. Please let me rectify this now.” Merlin’s constitution was already weak but when faced with Arthur’s pleading eyes, it withered away completely. He nodded at once and Arthur rewarded him with a crooked smile, a dimple appearing on one side.

If Merlin had ever the ability to think rational thoughts, he no longer could.

///

Having Arthur by his side proved to be quite fortunate. Once Merlin bid his sisters a goodbye and informed Gwen of his plans to stay overnight at The Lady of the Lake Inn en route and if there was any development, she was to send an urgent messenger to the tavern, he returned to see if his carriage was ready yet. Here, Arthur suggested — in a manner most unlike himself — that they travel on horseback, to cover more distance.

Merlin noted this change and more importantly, the fact that Arthur was making a conscious effort to improve his manner. He dared not think it a result of his words, for what was the chance Arthur still regarded him as he once did given his harsh words?

As expected, a normal two and a half day carriage ride was reduced to a one and a half day ride on horseback. They spent the entire day riding, stopping only once for a quick picnic in a clearing and another to fill their bottles with the fresh river water. Night soon fell and they sighed in relief as the inn was in sight just before it became too dark. Once they handed off their horses, both Merlin and Arthur went inside. It was here that a rather strange possibility made itself known.

“My lords,” greeted the innkeeper, Mr Kilgharrah, “I have unfortunate news. I can only offer one room for men of your standing.” Merlin and Arthur shared an alarmed look.

“There isn’t another?” asked Merlin desperately. Mr Kilgharrah shook his head, though it seemed a smirk flashed on his face for just a second.

“We should take it,” said Arthur with an apologetic grimace. “It is too late to ride to another tavern.” Merlin sighed and nodded.

“I suppose we may sleep on different beds,” he agreed.

Mr Kilgharrah personally guided them upstairs to show them their room, but once he opened the door, they realised their predicament was more dire than expected, for the room only had one bed. “Dinner is being served, gentlemen,” said Mr Kilgharrah, interrupting their thoughts. “May I lead you there?”

As they headed downstairs again into the large dining room, Merlin resolved to offer up the bed to the Prince, on account of the fact that it was already most kind of him to help Merlin rescue Kara and he could hardly be expected to sleep on the floor after such kindness. Dinner was a quiet affair as Merlin found his heart was only filled with concern for Kara and what her condition was like, especially after finding out that Sir Mordred was not a respectable knight. Arthur didn’t seem to mind his reticence and directed the conversation to light topics, like the paintings decorating the dining room.

“I particular admire that painting over there,” commented Arthur, gesturing to a faraway portrait of a young woman with his dessert spoon. “Her expression leads me to believe she is longing for something.”

Merlin turned in his chair to assess this expression. The woman sat at an ordinary table but did indeed tilt her head to stare longingly out of the window. “Not something, someone.” It was a look he recognised, for it was one he often saw on his face of late. Arthur looked curious but didn’t press.

“I agree,” he remarked, “though her dressing indicates she is a married woman. Who else could she be longing for?” Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“Marriage isn’t always a happy ending for all. I thought you were familiar with that prospect?” He trailed off, leaving Arthur to blink rapidly as he constructed his response. Merlin pressed his lips and apologised, fearing he had overstepped.

“No,” interrupted Arthur as he poked the remainder of his cake. “You are right. Society does not support all of our happinesses.” He pushed away his plate and smiled. “Shall we retire?” Merlin nodded, still regretting his careless words.

Once they entered their room, the reality of the situation made itself known again. “I will take the floor,” declared Merlin readily, hoping Arthur would agree with equal promptness.

He did not. “Don’t be a fool, Mer lin,” he said, rolling his eyes. At Merlin’s surprised look, Arthur’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean to disrespect, but I can’t agree to that.”

Merlin paused for a second more before breaking into a wide grin. “You are being a clotpole if you disagree.” Arthur huffed a short laugh, his dimple making itself known in the candlelight and Merlin gulped. He tried not to stare — he really did — but the room was too small to look elsewhere. “You must not sleep on the floor either, then.”

“Nonsense, neither of us will. Let’s share the bed.” Merlin’s head whipped towards him, his expression a mixture of shock, vehement denial and tentative hope. “We have a long ride ahead of us, not to mention the complication of having to stop a marriage: we must both be well-rested for such an adventure,” said Arthur, his tone leaving no room for disagreement.

He picked up the fresh set of sleep clothes left by a servant and retreated behind the screen to change, leaving Merlin to fan himself slightly as he considered the mere possibility of sharing a bed with Arthur. Nothing good would come of it, he thought to himself, yet he was so excited. “Besides, it is far too cold and so we must share body heat wherever possible,” added Arthur casually and Merlin was certain his heart was going to stop from anticipation.

Arthur stepped out and gestured for Merlin to get changed as he headed to bed. He took his time getting changed simply because his mind was painting vivid scene after vivid scene of how the night could go. He tried to remind himself of what they were going to face tomorrow but not even the prospect of duelling Mordred for Kara’s virtue was enough to distract Merlin from his sinful thoughts. He could just imagine Arthur’s hand wrapping around—

“Are you coming?” Merlin jumped and knocked the screen over, revealing his half-clothed self. He scrambled to pull his shirt on and prayed Arthur hadn’t noticed his hardness, a product of his excitement when he heard Arthur’s voice. Merlin cleared his throat a few times and looked up to find Arthur staring at him, his face bright red. They looked away awkwardly when their eyes met and instead Merlin claimed the empty spot on the bed, which put him right in front of Arthur. A position he was grateful for because he could not handle having to hide his state all night from him.

///

Arthur watched Merlin retreat to change and sighed a huge breath of relief. He had aimed to sound unconcerned when suggesting they share a bed but inside, he felt as though he could explode from the desire that ran through him. He couldn’t possibly sleep by Merlin’s side and not sleep with him!

The only thing that kept him in check was Merlin’s actions. It seemed the lord still hated him because why else would he be so disgusted by the very prospect of a single room or the same bed. Arthur pulled his thoughts away from there for if he began wallowing in pity, he would be useless.

Time passed and yet Merlin did not appear, leaving Arthur to confirm the fact that he hated him so much as to delay the night in order to spend less time by Arthur’s side. His mind told him it wasn’t so but his heart was convinced this was the fact. After another minute, Arthur decided it was time to sleep and called, “Are you coming?”

He had forgotten how clumsy Merlin was though and his call was answered by the clattering of the wooden screen. Arthur was now able to stare right at his (rather well-defined if not pale) chest. Thankfully, Merlin had had the time to put on his trousers because Arthur could not stop his wandering eyes. He froze as he recognised the bulge in the aforementioned trousers and decided to stop ogling at the man’s body when he cleared his throat a few times. He flushed deeply as he brought his eyes back up to Merlin’s equally red face and they averted their gaze until Merlin tucked himself in front of Arthur’s body.

He had taken the space next to the wall because he preferred sleeping on his left but now realised what the position meant in terms of the proximity between his hard length and Merlin’s backside. Arthur resolved to correct this problem by sleeping on his stomach. It was uncomfortable, especially with the bed’s unusual firmness, but it was better than whatever consequences that would no doubt come otherwise.

///

Merlin could not sleep. That was to be expected, given he was lying less than an inch away from the man he could not stop thinking about, but it was not that (for once). On the other hand, it seemed to finally sink in how dangerous Kara’s situation was. Merlin was no expert in societal gossip, but he too knew what it meant for a young unmarried woman to be in the unchaperoned company of a male stranger. Not only was Kara’s virtue at stake, but so was the honour of the Emryses. Who would marry his other sisters now?

If he could break off the marriage before word got out, it would be ideal but Kara wouldn’t agree. And there was the small issue of her beau being none other than Mordred, a man who did not seem to particularly mind whether or not he behaved in a manner pertaining to a knight. Would he agree to calling off the marriage or would there be a duel? Merlin’s gun was as rusty as his skills and he had no intention of maiming the man, no matter how dire the situation was.

Sleep didn’t come easy to him, understandably. And judging by Arthur’s unsubtle fidgeting, he wasn’t the only one. Nevertheless, he laid absolutely still, in the hope that he would just slip into unconsciousness. But it seemed his corpse-like state had led to another unexpected outcome.

“Merlin,” called Arthur, his voice rough from disuse. Merlin held still, reminding himself he was meant to be deep asleep. Arthur cleared his throat slightly, the bed shaking as he rotated. Merlin kept his eyes shut but felt the man’s hot breath on his neck and resisted the urge to lean closer. “I— Are you asleep?”

The compulsion to snort was high but Merlin breathed through it. “Well, I hope you are anyway, for I don’t think I can say any of this otherwise.” Arthur paused for such a long time that Merlin fully accepted the possibility he would not continue. And then, he did. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

What had he said?

“About society’s expectations of me,” he clarified helpfully. “You are right. My… outward preferences would never be accepted by anyone, not even my father, but…” Arthur trailed off and sighed whilst Merlin wished dearly he would come closer and whisper in his ear. He then forced himself to focus — Arthur was opening up to him! “I could never hide you away,” he confessed quietly. “I loved you too much.”

Merlin was certain he could never love a man more than he did right then. And he threw it away with his callous rejection. Could he ever undo his mistake?

///

Arthur wrapped his arm around his pillow and pulled it closer. He had often dreamed of having Merlin in his arms and today, his pillow had finally gotten the memo and even smelled like him. Arthur wasn’t going to let it go now.

He ran his hands up and down the pillow, surprised it had somehow developed the same physique he had admired the night before. It was an image he could never forget and now his pillow rewarded him with the same abs. It even had the same silky curls he often dreamed of running his fingers through and Arthur didn’t hesitate.

Suddenly, his pillow began squeaking and pulling away. Not on his watch. Arthur made an offended sound and reclaimed what was rightfully his. As he tightened his grip, he realised his pillow had a new addition. A hard length.

Well, well, well.

Had Arthur been slightly more awake, he would have questioned why his pillow was shaped so much like the man he desired, but no. He was intent to sleep for a few more hours and would prefer it if his pillow remained where he wanted it.

Anyway, he wrapped his hand around said hard length, hoping it was all that was required to inanimate his pillow again. Instead, it gasped and screamed, in a voice identical to Merlin’s, “ARTHUR!”

He finally wrenched his eyes open to find a thoroughly scandalised and slightly debauched Merlin — the lord, that is, not his pillow — gape at him. Arthur was confused until he realised just exactly who had been playing the part of his pillow. He scrambled away, colliding roughly with the wall but the pain from the collision wasn’t anywhere near as painful as his mortification.

“You must forgive me!” shouted Arthur, hoping his face would stop burning up. “I did not— I mean I… it was a mistake!”

Merlin cleared his throat multiple times, looking just as embarrassed. “It isn’t a problem, Your Highness,” he said quietly. Arthur averted his eyes, unable to look at him without seeing just exactly what he had done to his ‘pillow’. “We should get ready to leave.” Arthur agreed at once.

///

Merlin decided the only way to deal with the events of the morn was to ignore them completely. Sadly, this was easier said than done given how frequently his mind replayed the sensation of Arthur’s fingers tracing his chest, massaging his scalp, slipping lower and lower—

“Focus,” he said aloud, hoping it would work if he just spoke to himself. It did not and moreover, the other patrons of the inn eyed him with as much subtlety as they could manage whilst consuming their breakfast. Arthur firmly kept his eyes on his own coffee.

Just then, a servant appeared with a letter on his tray. Merlin dismissed him with a smile and tore it open, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

“Dear Brother,

“The situation has not improved. When Mithian and I arrived evening last, we were to discover Mother in bed, taken ill from Kara’s deplorable actions. Overnight, she has struggled to improve, though Gaius has called to deliver a few medicines so you need not worry too much.

“Mithian travelled with Lord William and Lady Freya to collect Sefa and Isolde from Aunt Alice’s but it appears that our situation has become common knowledge. I fear the servants overhead your declaration at the le Fays’ and it is no secret that they talk.

“To cancel the wedding now would be worse than death for us, Merlin. As much as I hate to even consider the thought, I believe Kara’s marriage to that despicable man is needed. But you are more informed here, brother, and I simply ask of you to bring back Kara before Mother takes a turn for the worse.

“Yours, 

“Gwen”

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, attracting his companion’s attentions. “Is anything the matter?” he asked, once again prompting Merlin to sigh.

“The wedding must go ahead.” At Arthur’s displeased expression, Merlin showed him the letter. His face grew grim as he skimmed it and eventually nodded, though still unhappy. “I can’t accept Mordred, not after I have seen his true character, but I cannot condemn my sister to a cursed existence.”

“Let us go and marry Sir Mordred and your sister.” They finally locked eyes as they left the breakfast hall and headed to the reception, to pay Mr Kilgharrah. On the way, Merlin noticed a small calendar, detailing which room was free when. To his surprise, when he looked at yesterday’s notes, he saw the opening in a few rooms. Drawing Arthur’s attention, they both turned to confront Mr Kilgharrah, who looked quite unconcerned when faced with their accusations.

“I did say, my lords, that there were no rooms fit for men of your station ,” he said silkily. Arthur’s face contorted into an expression of fury and was only stopped from committing a gross act by Merlin’s sudden hand resting on his shoulder. Kilgharrah eyed the motion and the look of surprise shared by the two as he smirked. “Your rooms, forgive me, your singular room cost one shilling.”

Merlin shoved a shilling and a thruppence into his scaly hand before bidding the innkeeper a cold goodbye. “What a creep,” he muttered under his breath. He was overhead by Arthur, who was startled into a laugh and the two broke into wide grins as they collected their horses, ready to ride once more.

///

Their search hadn’t proven to be fruitful until Arthur suggested they take a brief reprieve to regain their strengths. It was at the small cupcakery where Merlin was purchasing a slice of fruit cake for the two to share when he heard Kara’s distinct laugh.

His head whipped around to find Kara sitting with none other than Mordred, who was smiling along to something she said. With the knowledge he had now, Merlin could see the restrained way Mordred smiled and the way he kept to himself. Neither of them were disagreeable qualities, but it did explain his eventual reveal.

Merlin turned back to inform Arthur of what he saw only to find him holding his hand. As he stared openly at the connection, Arthur hastily let go, leaving Merlin to miss his touch. “You looked as though you would drop the plate,” he explained.

Merlin shook himself and instead thanked him whilst directing them towards his sister’s table. There, Kara was positively delighted to see him and immediately hugged him tightly as she launched into a new and eager explanation of the past few days. Mordred, on the other hand, was in a cool stare off with Arthur. Merlin stopped Kara with a mere glare and instead demanded they leave at once, causing Mordred to morph into his pleasant but fraudulent character as he offered the rooms they were staying at as a meeting place.

Once inside and safely away from prying ears, Merlin barely restrained himself from slapping Kara. He settled for shaking her until she looked close to tears, but that wasn’t enough to melt his anger. Not any more. “HOW DARE YOU! How dare you dishonour our name, your own sisters and yourself as to stoop so low! I am ashamed to call you my sister!”

Kara burst into tears and though Merlin regretted his harsh words, and he was well aware the fault was not truly hers, he couldn’t find it in himself to take back what he said. He had travelled for two days with little food or rest, abandoned his family when his mother took ill and dragged the Crown Prince of Camelot behind him because of her actions. He informed her as such, making sure she realised, finally, the consequences of her foolish decisions. This was the problem with ignoring all of her misdemeanours as childish antics: at one point, they start having real repercussions.

Eventually, Merlin finished his tirade and turned away, disgusted by her. “Go to your room, assuming you ever stayed in one here.” Kara, who had dutifully stood and sobbed during his speech, finally looked up.

“No,” she declared, drawing his attention. “You cannot shout at me so when I have done a great thing. I am to be married, brother! The first of our family! Something not even Gwen has done, despite it being her duty—”

“You will not speak ill of Gwen!” Merlin advanced, his hand raised but stopped when Kara flinched horrifically. He didn’t want to hurt her. He was annoyed, yes, but it was still his baby sister. Instead, he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. “Kara, leave now before I do something I regret.”

Kara disagreed, still intent on informing Merlin the error of his ways. “You yourself agreed Sir Mordred was a respectable match! You all but gave us your blessing!”

Arthur seemed to note his rising fury and stepped in. “Kara! You will listen to your brother and leave now!” Kara pouted and marched away, not bothering to curtsy. He offered his bottle of water to Merlin, who accepted it with a grateful smile, and turned to his problem: Mordred.

“Sir Mordred,” he said coldly. “What are your intentions with Kara? This is unlike yourself, given your history filled with cheating and stealing.” Mordred merely smiled politely at Arthur’s sneer as he eyed Merlin.

“I am not aware what you mean by—”

“Do not lie, Mordred!” cut Arthur, disgusted. “Lord Merlin is well aware of your true nature.” Mordred’s courteous expression dropped almost instantly and was replaced by a sly smile.

“I suppose that makes my job easier,” he said, his tone low and amused. “You’re right, Arthur. I do not usually propose to the first woman who approaches me. But what if that woman has a well-sized dowry behind her?” Mordred paused and pretended to consider his statement. “It is not surprising then, is it?”

“You intend to marry Kara for her money?” asked Merlin, disbelieving. Though he knew what Mordred’s true colours were, he still couldn’t fathom the fact that the man readily owned his dishonourable traits.

Mordred shook his head and clucked. “Merlin, you are mistaken. I had intended to marry Kara for her dowry, until I realised that the girl loved to exaggerate. You should have seen my face when Morgause told me of how little your fortunes were actually.” He laughed at Merlin’s horrified look. “I must say, you hide it well, but I found out and decided Kara wasn’t worth my time. Why, you arrived just as I was going to abandon her!”

Arthur advanced and grabbed the knight by his collar, yet still Mordred didn’t look alarmed. He merely stared pointedly and remarked, “Quite unbecoming of a prince to lay a hand on a knight of another king’s. Grounds for a conflict, is it not?” Arthur promptly let go of him and settled for glaring.

“You cannot abandon her!” Merlin tried not to sound too desperate but he couldn’t help the fear inside him from leaking into his words. “Her honour! She’ll be regarded a loose woman!”

Mordred shrugged, looking unconcerned. “That is unfortunate, isn’t it?” He paused for a long time, smiling as Merlin drank some more water. “Though I suppose I can be persuaded to marry her.”

“What are your demands?” gritted out Arthur. Mordred took his time as he drew a chair and sat in it.

“My lifestyle has led to a number of debts. If they are settled, then we are on the right track,” he began. “Of course, I shall require an upfront for I have a few more… businesses I wish to visit before I return. And the wedding expenses will have to be covered. Not to mention the yearly amount I require to take care of your dear Kara. The more you love her, the more you shall offer me.” Mordred paused and quickly calculated a final sum, grinning widely as he presented it. “£10,000 for now and £150 a year.”

Merlin’s heart dropped at the figures. His father had set aside £5000 for each of the girls’ and Merlin had cut his own expenses at every corner to add a £1000 to each account. He couldn’t possibly pay Mordred £10,000! But neither could he condone Kara’s fall from grace. He wanted to reason with the knight, attempt appealing to any shred of humanity he had, but didn’t get the chance.

“We accept your terms,” stated Arthur. Merlin tried to draw his attention, to say that he couldn’t possibly pay such an amount but Arthur paid no note. “I will personally see to that as long as you swear to marry Kara.”

“Arthur, I can’t ask you to—”

“Merlin, you need not worry,” he said, his eyes staring deeply into Merlin’s. “I see Kara as my own sister. This is no trouble for me.” He turned back to Mordred and nodded expectantly.

If Mordred was surprised by the quick acceptance, he did not show it. Instead, he shook Arthur’s hand, then Merlin’s. “You have a deal.” Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, once again beyond grateful for Arthur’s presence. He did not know how he could pay back this generosity but as Arthur congratulated him with a firm handshake and subtle brush of his thumb on Merlin’s palm, he decided it was a problem for later.

///

The wedding was a very quiet affair, with only the officiant, the groom and bride and Merlin and Arthur in attendance. Even so, Kara was convinced a grander wedding could possibly not exist and spoke animatedly of how she loved the flowers/wines/clothes and whatever else. Though Merlin was still displeased with her decision to elope, he couldn’t help but share her enthusiasm. It was the first marriage of many for the Emryses, after all!

As promised, Mordred married Kara and soon, they rode back to Camelot in a carriage purchased by Arthur as a wedding gift: Kara nearly hugged him in her excitement. “Not even you have a carriage, brother!” she cried often and Merlin knew then that she would never change. The return journey was three days long and this time, when they begrudgingly stopped at The Lady of the Lake Inn, Merlin and Arthur almost threatened Mr Kilgharrah to ensure they all got separate rooms, much to Kara’s exasperation.

“I am married, brother! It is no longer forbidden for me to spend time with my husband.” She looped her hand around Mordred’s and beamed. Merlin looked unimpressed and she leaned in to whisper, “Besides, I have wedding duties to fulfil!”

“You will engage in no such behaviour when I am here,” said Merlin firmly.

Kara did not give up. “Please, Merlin! Pretty please?”

“The physical appearance of the please makes no difference to my decision, Kara.”

Arthur watched the scene with great interest and when she finally accepted her fate and retired to her single room, he remarked with amusement, “Do you not hold the same strict standards for yourself, my lord?” At Merlin’s raised eyebrow, he added, “We did share not a room, but a bed too.”

Merlin blushed deeply. “We had no choice.”

“I don’t think Kara would see it like that. Two unmarried men in close contact…” Arthur’s voice became even lower as he finished with, “And wandering hands.” Merlin looked up to find Arthur’s pupils nearly fully dilated. He pulled away before he did something stupid and inappropriate, like snog him senseless. Mordred did not deserve to be present for such a special moment.

He did however use his wandering hand to gently and subtly stroke Arthur’s, winning a small smile from him.

///

“Mother!” Kara almost leapt out of the carriage but was stopped by Mordred’s sharp tug and glare. She shrugged it off and waited until they pulled to a stop before running out to hug her mother, who stood out front, though she leaned heavily on Gwen.

Hunith sighed in relief once everyone exited the carriage in good health and apparent happiness but her relief soon morphed into indifference for her youngest child. She turned away when Kara attempted to hug her and instead, coldly remarked, “Gwen, I see your brother has returned. Let us go inside now.”

Kara wasn’t too concerned as she instead dragged Mordred behind her to show her husband off to her sisters, who smiled and greeted him politely. Mithian approached the Prince and her brother, curtsying and began leading them inside, when a foot man quickly stopped them.

“Lord Merlin Emrys and Prince Arthur Pendragon are to come to the palace immediately, King’s orders,” he declared. Hunith looked like she would disagree but she wished her son well and nodded to the Prince as they departed yet again.

///

Merlin paced in the breakfast hall, unsure of what this call entailed. After their arrival, Arthur was taken away immediately and Merlin was left to pace in the decorated hall as he wondered why the King wished to meet him. He wondered if it was the proposal but hoped it was something else. He didn’t particularly want to explain to the king why he turned down the prince.

Soon, he was summoned by a maid to the King’s study and found Arthur waiting outside with an indiscernible expression on his face. Before Merlin could ask him anything, the door was opened by the guards and admitted him.

King Uther sat at his desk with a quill in hand and a serious glare. Merlin gulped but tried not to look too apprehensive as he bowed and stood expectantly. The king gestured to a chair and raised an eyebrow. “So you are the lord who has captured my son’s affections.” Merlin didn’t know what to say and settled for a slight nod. “What does he see in you?” Uther tilted his head as though he was analysing a particularly miniscule insect and Merlin struggled not to squirm in his gaze. “Though you seem to know your place. It is good you rejected him once before.”

“Wait,” said Merlin, unable to stop himself. “You’re… glad I turned him down?”

“Naturally.” The king set down his quill as he rose from his seat and walked around the room. “It is so beneath my son to consider your family. Your father himself was never a successful lord, what with his foolish ways of helping peasants, a single meeting with you told me you were the same, if not worse.” Merlin pressed his lips and took a deep breath as he internally fumed. He did not speak until he was sure he wouldn’t yell.

“My father was a very honourable lord,” he said calmly. “He took care of everyone around him.”

Uther waved a hand carelessly. “I will not have Arthur marry such a family with no money and no superior connections. He is a prince and he will marry a man fit for him.”

Merlin couldn’t mask his momentary surprise. “You have no qualms about his preference for men?” he asked incredulously. The King shook his head, looking like he didn’t even consider that a thought worth his time.

“If Arthur believes he will find love like the one I shared with my Ygraine in a man, then he shall. I, however, will not tolerate him being you.” Uther stopped his circuit of the room and stood in front of him, forcing Merlin to look up. “I have spoken to Arthur and he has informed me that he will not consider my advice and fully intends to propose again if you so suggest you share his affections.” He once again paused to look disgusted at the notion of Arthur falling in love with someone so poor. Had it been another situation, Merlin was certain he would have laughed at the expression. “But you appear to know your place, as I have remarked before. You will not allude so to him and if he proposes yet again, you shall reject him as you did once before.”

Merlin didn’t answer him but instead stared with a hint of a smile. “I will not,” he finally declared. He was terrified of vocally opposing the king, make no mistake, but the thought of losing Arthur forever scared him even more. “I love Arthur. When he stands by my side, I feel finally complete. As though I have been searching my whole life and now I have found my true self. No one, not even you, Your Majesty, can convince me to abandon that.”

Uther looked taken aback for just a second and made to interrupt but Merlin wasn’t finished yet. “I did indeed reject him and I have never regretted an action more. I judged a man too soon and too harshly and I was near convinced I lost my one chance at true happiness until you told me otherwise. To throw it away again would be a fool’s action. I am not a fool.” The king sighed and stopped him before Merlin could carry on explaining his deep love for Arthur.

“I had thought you reasonable, but it appears you are as much an emotional, lovesick man as my son. What you lack in assets, I suppose you make up for in love.” Merlin took some time as he absorbed the statement and eventually beamed.

“So you approve of our union?”

Uther sighed yet again but made no attempt to hide his small smile. “It appears I do.”

///

Merlin knocked on his mother’s door and entered, finding his mother still in bed, though she looked much more lively than two days ago, when he had returned. “Merlin.”

“Mother, are you well or should I come another time?” Merlin sat by her side and clasped her hand as she smiled brightly.

“Nonsense, I am perfectly fine to meet with my son, who has finally made time to see his mother. Who knows when his lordship will be free again,” she remarked and Merlin bowed his head in shame.

“I’m sorry Mother, but these past few weeks have been chaotic,” he said with a sigh. “Kara insists on calling upon all of our neighbours to show off her husband, Lord Lancelot has been calling on us almost daily and I must be present while he and Gwen talk for hours on God knows what and I have spent many of my evenings trying to convince Isolde that Dame Morgause’s offer of teaching sword-fighting is not one to take up on.” Hunith squeezed his hand in return as she regarded him with pity.

“My son is so grown up. I’m sorry dear, I know you are trying your best.” Merlin simply stared at her with sad, soulful eyes until she caved and hugged him, ruffling his hair. They stayed like that for a while until he pulled apart.

“You could make things easier and start talking to Kara again. I know she acts as though it doesn’t bother her but I see the way she deflates after you ignore her.”

“It pains me too,” admitted Hunith, patting his hand absent-mindedly. “I hate ignoring her too, but pretending that nothing bad has come from her actions isn’t going to help her. She very nearly ruined our family and she’s incredibly lucky you were there to ensure the marriage went ahead.”

“It wasn’t me,” said Merlin quietly. Hunith looked at him sharply. “Arthur, he paid off Mordred’s debts and convinced him to marry Kara with the promise of yearly payments for taking care of her.” She stared at him, stunned.

“The Prince didn’t mention that in his letter.” Now it was Merlin’s turn to look surprised.

“What letter?”

Hunith fished around in her bedside table’s drawer until she pulled out a sheet of paper dated yesterday. “The Prince rightly assumed that you hadn’t had the time to inform me of the latest topics of interest, such as his unsuccessful attempt at proposing to you.” Once again, Merlin looked sheepish. “Maybe you should read what your lover writes about you.” Ignoring Merlin’s futile explanations that they were not, in fact, lovers and had not, in fact, seen each other for the past few days so he did not, in fact, know what they were, Hunith handed him the letter.

“Dear Madam,

“Please forgive me for attempting to discuss the contents of what I wish to convey via a letter and not by calling: I am no longer allowed to leave the castle unless I rectify the mistakes which inevitably happened in my absences.

“Though we are to formally meet, I hope to write to you not as the Crown Prince, but as Arthur Pendragon, a man who had foolishly asked for your son’s hand in marriage without even following basic courtesy rules such as asking you for permission. You may or may not know that I was unsuccessful in my attempt and I now realise that was good fortune, simply because I can now plead my case in front of you, in the hopes that you allow me the honour of once again proposing to Merlin.

“Madam, your son is truly the reason I am now the man I am. When I first met him, his dedication to speaking his mind out surprised me. Though I was not impressed then by his words, I realised that there was no one in my life who I could rely on to be so honest. Merlin captured my heart with his passion for his interests, his quick-wittedness and, in short, his diligence to maintaining his honour and your family’s unblemished name. He sees the good in men yet acts fairly when required and it is these great qualities, a clear credit to your excellent upbringing, I might add, that have captivated me.

“My previous proposal failed because I did not list any of these out. I took his acceptance as my birthright and Merlin kindly and respectfully informed me of the error in my ways. I now like to think that experience has changed my behaviour. Merlin makes me a better man. I regret to inform you, my lady, that I am unable to offer your son anything near as worthwhile, for Merlin is perfect, in my eyes. I am certain you will agree. All I can say is, if granted the honour, I will love and cherish him with all my heart, for all the time I have left on this earth.

“As soon as my confinement is over, I wish to call upon your family. In the meantime, I beg you, please write to me to give me your answer. My affections for him are unchanged but one contrary word from either of you will silence me on the subject forever.

“Yours, as ever,

“Arthur Pendragon”

Merlin read through it once, and then again, his eyes refusing to move from the sentences proclaiming his wonderful qualities. He had never once thought of himself in that manner but was that how Arthur saw him? Hunith's smile grew as she watched her son trace the paper with care, if only to feel the ghost of Arthur’s hand.

“Dearest, would you like to know what I wrote back?” Merlin nodded at once, hoping she had not kept in mind his previous bold declarations of what he thought Arthur was. “Well, I made sure to explain my astonishment, given your assessment of his character—”

“Oh, Mother!”

“But,” she continued with a twinkle in her eyes, “I also mentioned that I could hardly deny someone who spoke of my son so highly. I must say, his love for you is special. It is not unlike how your father regarded me and it is my greatest wish that my children experience the same love. The two of you have my full blessings, Merlin.”

///

Merlin put down his newspaper and sighed. He hadn’t seen Arthur in three whole days, nor had he written to him and Merlin felt quite restless now. He had tried to subtly question Lancelot and the lord politely told him he wasn’t too sure but the situation was not too dire. Still, Arthur remained uncommunicative.

Perhaps he had changed his mind. What if he had found another?

Merlin physically shook his head in an effort to not entertain such useless thoughts. That was not going to be the case, he told himself. Just then, the sound of hoof beats interrupted his musings and he glanced at the clock. It was just before lunch-time, and was close to Lancelot’s daily calling time, except the hoof beats sounded different. It sounded like… there were two horses.

Sure enough, out of the window, he saw two figures hand off their horses and walk up to the house. Merlin abandoned his newspaper altogether and all but ran out of his study to the main hall. There, he found Lancelot who was already in conversation with Gwen and Arthur.

Merlin just stared, transfixed by his bright blue eyes and wide smile, the one which fully highlighted his dimples. It was only when Mithian cleared her throat that he jumped and instead greeted the prince, offering a pleasant walk in the gardens. Once they were alone with only the trees for company, Merlin stopped and turned to him.

The awkward silence which plagued their walk was broken by Arthur’s apology. “It appears I cannot leave for a fortnight and expect everyone to carry on as they were. I mean, Lord Agravaine thought it wise to order knights off the patrols!”

“And you’re complaining that your job requires your input?” asked Merlin with a raised eyebrow. “Never pinned you down as one to be satisfied by just standing around looking pretty.”

Arthur didn’t rise to the bait but instead used it to his advantage. “With the right man, I would be so easily satisfied.” It worked as intended as Merlin blushed deeply. Arthur smiled and tentatively reached for his hand. He slowly brought it to his lips and kissed it whilst maintaining eye contact. “For instance, this is enough for me.”

“Ah, but Your Highness, that is not the case for me,” said Merlin once he was able to use his words again. Arthur smirked and asked him to elaborate in a deep whisper which yet again stole his ability to speak for a short time. “I mean, I have had some sinful thoughts about you and I can promise you I will not be satisfied until we have tried them all.”

Now it was Arthur’s turn to blush and as he gulped, Merlin’s eyes dropped to follow the action. “I can assure you, my lord, I too have had some vivid dreams. They involve you, me and almost no clothing.” He pushed Merlin against a nearby tree trunk and pressed himself in, hoping to show him how excited he was from their conversation. Instead, he discovered Merlin’s own arousal and they gasped at the same time.

“Marry me,” blurted Merlin and Arthur readily agreed before throwing his head back to laugh.

“Did you turn me down so you could propose?” His eyes glittered mischievously and Merlin couldn’t take it any more as he reached forward to capture Arthur’s lips. It was a tentative gesture but once they pulled apart, they discovered they quite liked kissing. Arthur kissed him this time and pushed his hand into Merlin’s hair, finally celebrating as he felt the curls he wanted to for so long! Merlin didn’t back down and ran his hand down Arthur’s body, drinking the moans that spilled from his lips.

Suddenly, the sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the silence of the gardens and Arthur pulled away instantly. He righted his clothes and assessed Merlin’s appearance, unable to hide his grin as he realised that the lord looked so debauched because of him, and instead turned to face the new arrival.

Guinevere blinked back for a second before her jaw dropped open in a decidedly unladylike manner. “Merlin!”

Merlin held his head up high, unaware of his disturbed hair and nodded politely. “Gwen, good to see you.”

“What were you two doing here?” she asked with a teasing smile.

Arthur and Merlin shared a look before he decided to help his lover out. “I am the prince and I do not have to answer to the likes of you.” Gwen turned expectantly to Merlin.

“I am your older brother and I do not have to answer to the likes of you.” Gwen rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Now I have two prats for brothers,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. She then smiled. “I’m glad you two have worked everything out though.”

“I am too,” agreed Arthur as Merlin nodded, his mind already planning out the next few fantasies.

“Is anything the matter? Where’s Lancelot?” asked Merlin, looking around as though the lord would miraculously appear. He narrowed his eyes suddenly. “You weren’t engaging in sinful acts with him, were you?”

“Unlike yourself, brother, I intend to protect my virtue until my wedding night,” stated Gwen. Arthur burst into laughter and not even Merlin’s shove was enough to stop him. “Lancelot has left to speak with Mother. He intends to propose.”

Merlin stopped glaring at Arthur to smile. “Oh that’s wonderful! Congratulations, Gwen.” Arthur too expressed his happiness and she accepted them with a wide grin.

“I have not known happiness until this moment,” she declared simply. Then, Gwen frowned. “You won’t give him a hard time, will you, brother, when he comes to you?” Merlin shrugged.

“I have to protect my sister.”

“Then I must ask you, Your Highness, of your intentions with my brother,” countered Gwen. She offered her arm and the two began touring the gardens as she no doubt continued her thorough assessment. Merlin watched the scene and sighed happily. What Gwen said was true for him too. He had not known happiness until this moment.