chapter thirty-one!
031. the price he paid

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

   WHEN ODETTE was twelve, she and Arthur used to play hide and seek. He was annoyed, and would roll his eyes, but would always count to ten. He would always peek through his fingers once he finished, narrowing his eyes into the clearing they would sneak off to play in, and spend the next few minutes searching behind rocks and tree trunks for the young girl who would laugh as soon as she found her and take off running▬and he would have to run after her, desperately trying to tag her shoulder. And as soon as he did with his long limbs, she would rush right after him, pushing him forwards with a delightful giggle. She loved playing in the clearing▬a breather in the harsh woods that surrounded their home. Here, the wildflowers were beautiful, the wind gently whispered through the tree branches that were filled with bright green leaves in the spring. Here, there were no bandits, no travellers, no patrol and most importantly, no King of Camelot or any Lord who would find the secret of the blossoming friendship between the Prince and a lowly servant's daughter.

    She loved how the flowers always seemed to bloom when she touched them. Or how the butterflies would settle on her fingertips and the birdsong chirped sweeter at every smile she made. Odette always managed to make friends with the rabbits and show Arthur the little lizard she had found and named Lord Slithertongue. He would make a face and tell her that making friends with animals was a symptom of insanity, but the sixteen-year-old who never found time to spend with his young friend anymore, would always find his days better whenever they got the chance to sneak off. And he would never admit it to her▬never in his life▬but he always found it amazing how every animal seemed to love her with all of their hearts. And she loved them, too, with every breath of kindness.

    Birds would land in her palms. She would find frogs in the creeks and giggled at dragonflies that buzzed close to her nose. She beamed with the sunlight, and was welcomed with open arms by the spring. Arthur had never known someone so kind, so gentle, so warm. And when the wind seemed to just brush up the leaves that would fall from the branches as it grew closer to winter, trickling her neck and her arms with a tender touch▬Arthur realised that there was no one else in this world that was more sweet than Odette. So sweet, that even the forest brightened at her smile▬even the animals cherished her; the flowers tinted the same rose of her cheeks. It was the closest thing to magic that was actually filled with nothing but goodness. There was nothing in the forest floor, in the flower petals, in the birdsong or the way Odette used to smile whenever she made a new animal friend that would ever corrupt a heart that was made of pure love. It was the only magic that was not magic at all, just a girl who held no thought that the world around her could ever be horrible. And yet, it was magical.

    Arthur always knew he never wanted something▬someone▬to take that away from her. To never take away that love for anything that was so wonderfully good▬her kindness, her sweet nature, the bright beam on her face that always reached her eyes. She had always been one thing that was truly right in not just this world, but in his life. Even when he pretended to hate her, and shot quivers of arrows at crudely drawn pictures of her face, and rolled his eyes with a scoff ... she made him believe that the sunrise would bring a better day, deep down.

    And as he watched her pass out food she had scavenged to begging children, the elderly and the sick from his chamber window▬those who could not manage to gather provisions for themselves▬Arthur also realised that just like the forest, and the birds, and the flowers and the animals, people loved her just as much. Children hugged her, the elderly blessed her and even the guards she passed some bread out to who had been standing out in the courtyard all night to stop looters smiled and chuckled at whatever she had said▬a mere servant that for so many, had become so forgettable ... to everyone else, she was more memorable than she even realised.

    She, who must be hungry and thirsty▬just as much as the rest of them were▬did not give any of what she found to herself. She who picked up a bird that was pecking at the old dried puddles near the well and sat down with it in the shade, giving it the left over bathwater tea Merlin had complained to Arthur about this morning.

    And out of everyone, she was the last person who deserved any of this. And it was horrible, how magic was trying to destroy someone so truly magical in a way the evil of sorcery could never even try to compare to.

    Arthur watched her, and they were playing hide and seek all over again. Except all he could do was hide, and never be able to stand with her▬pass out food with her at his side. Be able to gaze at her smile in each others company. And it hurt. Ever since Ealdor, Arthur found himself gazing after her more often. Found himself downing his drinks quickly just so he could ask her to refill it whenever he had a luncheon with Morgana. She had changed something between them in Ealdor▬in such a way that it had never been changed before. And, now, Arthur could not stop thinking about it, about her, about what they could never have. How she had been right: that she will always scrub his floors and clear his plates, and he was always going to ask her to refill his goblets.

    He heard Merlin wandering about behind him like some bad smell▬he heard his boots snuff the stone floor and accidentally kick into Arthur's furniture and walls. His servant huffed, thirsty and hungry▬and annoyed▬as he gathered up his clothes and threw them over his shoulder. Though he quickly noticed Arthur's lack of comments about his loud complaining. Merlin arched a brow, staring at the Prince strangely who hadn't looked away from the window, "What are you looking at?" he asked him suddenly.

    Arthur blinked. He did his best to try and make it seem like his manservant hadn't startled him. He cleared his throat and placed his hands on his hips, turning away from the gaze he had fixed on the young handmaiden in the square. "Er▬nothing."

    He pushed past his servant who leaned back, annoyed at his lack of consideration to where he stood. Merlin eyed him as he went, curious. He smacked his lips and went back to his work, hoping it would distract him from how dry his tongue was getting. Arthur sat down on the edge of his bed, reaching for his boots as he pushed himself to get ready for the day. However, his foul mood doubled the moment he felt something strange on the shoe leather▬he gritted his teeth to see his finger poke through a hole, eaten straight through.

    "That▬" he held back many curses, "▬rat!"

    He rushed to his feet and shoved his boot in Merlin's face, "Look!" he told his manservant angrily. "It has eaten through my boot! Look at it!"

    Merlin wasn't amused by having the stench of Arthur's socks right under his nose. He stared back at his master blankly, "I suppose the rat is as hungry as the rest of us," he replied in a dead-panned tone.

    Arthur clenched his grip around his boot. He lowered it to sneer at his servant, "You think this is funny?"

    Merlin managed a tight smile, "Moderately."

    The Prince chucked his boot at him. He hunched up, startled as it struck his shoulders. "Get it mended! And find that rat!"

    The young warlock rolled his eyes to himself as he watched Arthur rummage around for another pair of boots. As he snatched one out of his cupboard and tugged them on, Merlin pursed his lips and pulled a tunic off the side of his screen, "Have you ..." he began cautiously, not quite meeting the Prince's gaze, "... Have you given any more thought to what Anhora said last night?"

    Arthur stood back up and grabbed one of his swords from his weapon rack. He set the sheathed blade down on the table and started to fiddle with his scabbard, untying the leather belt. "Ah, well▬" he said as he did, "▬he may have escaped last night, but at least we now know who we are looking for. I told my father I will find this Anhora and put an end to it."

    Merlin watched him pass him yet again, lips still pursed. He wrapped up one of Arthur's red tunics with the rest of his dirty laundry he will have to wash with ... well, what was he going to wash it with? Sand? Will he have to travel kingdoms to find a fresh stream of water since every river in Camelot had suddenly dried out? "What if ... if he was telling the truth about the curse?"

    The Prince spun to him at this. His face dropped with a ferocious anger. He scoffed, unable to believe his servant, "You think I am responsible for bringing suffering upon my own people?"

    "No!" quickly said Merlin. Then, he winced and back-tracked. "Well ... not deliberately..."

    Arthur scowled. He watched his servant sigh to himself and turn to face him, admitting: "When you killed the unicorn, I saw Anhora in the forest."

    This only made his frustration grow, "Why didn't you say anything?!" cried the Prince in exasperation.

    Merlin flung out his arms, "W▬w▬It was just for a second!" he stammered over his dry tongue. "A▬and then he disappeared. I didn't even▬well▬I thought I was seeing things. But he was definitely there."

    "That does not actually prove anything."

    Merlin stared at him, annoyed. He surged forward, leaning on the table in the centre of Arthur's chambers to meet his eye, "What?" he let out. "Doesn't it make you think he might be telling the truth?!"

    Arthur made a face, incredulous, "Oh▬because he was skulking about in the forest?" he scoffed and stood up, searching for his leather coat. "It makes me trust him even less!"

    "Why would Anhora appear in Camelot and then lie to you?"

    "We had him cornered. He was trying to talk his way out of it by blaming me."

    His servant shook his head, "Arthur, he can disappear into thin air!" he said loudly. "He did not have to talk his way out of anything▬!"

    Arthur spun back to his servant, his anger hanging on a thin thread. He didn't have time for his manservant and his ridiculous gullibility. "My father has warned me about sorcerers like him," he told Merlin with a stern clip to his words. "They will not rest until our kingdom is destroyed."

    Merlin set his jaw stubbornly, "Well, I believe he is telling the truth."

    "Then, you are a fool!" his stare turned into a scowl. Arthur gestured to the young boy yet again at the sight of it. "You cannot trust a single word a sorcerer says," he continued, hoping that for once, Merlin might actually listen to him. "You do well to remember that."

    He grabbed his coat and slung it onto his shoulders. He could still feel his manservant's glower on his back, "Now, I think I have figured out what Anhora's next move is going to be. And when he makes it▬" he fasted his scabbard to his hip, the blade weighing down at his side, "▬we are going to be waiting for him."

    Merlin watched Arthur leave his chambers. He sighed to himself, slumping against the dining table.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    ARTHUR NEARLY passed her by. He was so caught up in his own thoughts, that as he walked the hallway that homed her favourite window, the Prince nearly brushed on by the young handmaiden who stood sat it. The sight of her jolted him from his troubles, and he slowed to a stop in the hallway. He pursed his lips, all of his tactics on how he was going to find Anhora and make him pay for what he has done to Camelot disappearing the moment he noticed the slump of her shoulders.

    He glanced around them. She had yet to notice his shadow. When he was sure they were alone, he didn't continue on, as he knew he should. With a clench of his palm around his sword hilt, Arthur stepped forwards to be at her side. When she glanced up at him, she didn't say a word. Odette pursed chapped lips and stared back down at the city with a gaunt, exhausted look in her eye.

    He frowned, "Have you eaten?"

    It seemed like a silly question. Arthur has barely eaten himself▬not when he watched his people scavenge for their rations that were dying out as the day went on by. It was a silly question, when he, too, held a dry throat and a hoarse voice for not even a drop of water has touched his tongue since the beginning of the drought.

    Odette shook her head. "I gave my breakfast to one of the younger maids. She needed it more than I did."

    Arthur watched her. He couldn't look away. "That was very kind of you," he said to her▬and it was nothing compared to what he really wanted to say.

    She brushed down her skirts nervously. She didn't meet his eye. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I was making my way to mend Morgana's clothes but, I just..."

    The Prince shook his head, "I know," he told her gently. He leaned against the side of the window, gazing down through the glass himself. He watched his people wander around▬still going about their days despite their exhaustion, and their thirst and their hunger. He often believed they were stronger than any soldier in the barracks, than any noble his father knighted.

    He sighed to himself and had to look away. He felt his chest ache with this terrible guilt▬it pained him and suffocated him, watching his people suffer and being unable to stop it with a snap of his fingers.

    Odette noticed. Without him speaking a word, she understood and she noticed. "You are doing the best you can."

    "It is not enough," he muttered, crossing his arms and pressing his back against the stone of the window. He met her gaze. In front of her, Arthur didn't feel as if he needed to hide any part of him. Even if he did, she would see right through it.

    Arthur clenched his jaw and swivelled his boot on the stone floor. "Do you..." he began in a hoarse tone, "... do you believe what the sorcerer said? That I am the one responsible for your suffering?"

    Odette was quiet for too long. She furrowed her brows and leant back against the wall as well. She looked very tired. "I do not know," she admitted to him. "But I do know that you will do anything in your power to end it."

    "What if I can't?"

    "But you will."

    He managed a little smile at her faith. His chest grew warm at her words, wanting to believe it even though his mind cursed it otherwise. Arthur wanted to be worthy of her undying faith▬he wanted to show to her that she hadn't put her hope in the wrong person. But right now, he was scared he was going to only disappoint her like he has everyone else.

    Hanging his gaze, he pursed his lips and muttered, "I believe throwing all of Merlin's hard work onto you was a little harsh."

    Odette breathed a chuckle. She shook her head. "It was nothing. I merely annoyed Merlin with it anyway."

    Arthur cracked a crooked grin. She blushed at the sight of it, looking down at her fingers that fiddled with her bag. Arthur's smile fell when he noticed, that pain striking him again▬a different sort of ache. He longed for the fields of Ealdor in this moment; to be far from the cold hallways of the castle. He could tell that she did, too. He found himself lost in that feeling, during that night before battle and fighting the urge to lean in and kiss her.

    He couldn't. He knew he couldn't.

    But what also hurt was that he knew Odette wouldn't tell him to ignore it. And it hurt because why should she? Who was he to ruin her life like that? He couldn't give her any stability▬any promise of a future or crown riches. He couldn't give her a better life even if he wanted to. She understood that. She accepted that. And yet he desperately wanted her to say: No.

    Arthur took another deep breath, "You should rest. I must go and check the reserve books."

    As he left, Odette clenched her eyes shut. She shook her head stiffly, huffing a short breath of frustration. Once she did, she glanced around the brick and watched him go, her heart heavy. As if feeling her gaze on him, Arthur met it over his shoulder. He pursed his lips and slowly forced his stare away, disappearing left around the corner. 

    She began to wonder what selfish plea she had made to Fate to treat her like this? Odette has never asked for more for herself. She has always accepted what she had been given and where she will always be. And yet Destiny still humoured and toyed with her, making her start to fall for a Prince▬not just any Prince, but Arthur.

    Perhaps the Fates have finally given her something even she could not hope for. Maybe that was their way of reminding her that her faith had gotten too ambitious.

    And so they gave her sunrise a name, and a smile, and a kind heart. And they hurt her through him.

    That night, Arthur, Merlin and Ronyn went out in search of the sorcerer yet again. The Prince was determined to end his people's suffering▬to prove to Odette that he was worthy of her unconditional faith. She believed he was capable of saving his people from drought and famine, which meant he was going to do everything in his power until he did.

    They hid themselves back underneath the castle floors▬huddled in the hallways close to the grain reserves. While Arthur kept an eye out in the corridor, Merlin and Ronyn kept watch in the store room. It was impractical to have both of them there, but Arthur found himself wary to have Merlin alone without someone there to protect him. As idiotic and brave as he has shown himself to be, Arthur knew he would have no chance up against a powerful sorcerer such as Anhora. At least with Ronyn there with him, he wouldn't have to face the wizard alone.

    What Arthur wasn't expecting was to walk in to check on them, and find his manservant and his best friend asleep, leant up against each other by the centre stone column. He sighed, growing frustrated and angry. Here he was, just as tired, and as thirsty and as hungry as either of them▬but he wasn't going to stop and let himself fall asleep. Not when the lives of the people of his entire kingdom were at risk▬not when Odette was at risk.

    He clenched his hands and stormed over. Grabbing a straw broom, he smacked both Ronyn and Merlin awake. The Lord and servant jumped▬Ronyn fell right over at Arthur's feet. The Prince glowered down at him.

    "Don't you worry about keeping watch," he grumbled sarcastically at them. "You two just snuggle up together and make yourselves comfortable!"

    Ronyn pushed himself to sit back up, "Prat," he muttered.

    Merlin sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He sat up against the stone and smacked his lips. Arthur clenched his jaw, "Stop smacking your lips!" he ordered. "It's annoying."

    "I'm thirsty."

    "We're all thirsty, Merlin!"

    The two friends grumbled to each other before pushing themselves onto their feet. Merlin and Ronyn made their way over to Arthur, peering around his side to stare down the lengthy corridor. They expected to be met with nothing more than a narrowing darkness that played tricks on the mind and made Ronyn often feel a little dizzy. Instead, he frowned the moment light flashed across the stone at the very end▬passing by right; leading towards the grain stores.

    Arthur pulled them back with him as a figure followed. His shadow flickered with the flames, making a careful step down the winding corridor▬hesitant with a suspicious glance over his shoulder.

    It didn't look like Anhora at first glance, but by now, Arthur has learnt that sorcerers could not be trusted with anything: even the form they showed themselves in.

    They waited a breath, making sure that the figure had passed on until they followed at a safe and quiet distance. Ronyn glanced behind them to make sure that they didn't have anybody else on their tail. Arthur carefully unsheathed his blade.

    Following the flames guide▬flickering in and out of existence amongst winding shadows, they stopped right outside the door to the grain reserves. Arthur held up his hand. With a silent gesture, he guided Merlin and Ronyn to one side, and he to the other▬then, they will trap the figure off as they wrapped back around. He went to leave, but he sent the two of them a final side glare, as if to make sure Merlin didn't follow after him this time.

    They stepped into the round room, lit only by the intruder's torch. Ronyn and Merlin slipped around the back of the grain reserve while Arthur surged out to the front. He spun his blade and held it out, "Show yourself," he demanded, "before I run you through."

    Ronyn gripped his own sword, his footsteps inches from the compartments edge. As he and Merlin stepped around, they saw a figure not in draping white robes▬instead, there stood a trembling peasant; a thief holding a shovel in a shaking grip, barely able to form words as he stared back at the threatening blade of his Prince pressed closely to his chest. In his other hand, he clutched a full bag of grain.

    They all lowered their weapons. "Who are you?" Arthur frowned.

    The commoner's bottom lip wobbled. "My name is▬" he stumbled over his mumbling words, "M▬my name is▬"

    "Speak up."

    "My name is Evan, My Lord," whimpered the thief.

    Arthur set his jaw. He fixed the grip of his sword▬trying to stay calm. After a short breath, he nodded to the bag the thief held in his hand, "I see you think you can help yourself to our grain reserves. My father has ordered that looters be executed."

    Ronyn and Merlin slowly returned to Arthur's side, watching on curiously. Lord Vecentia eyed the Prince out of the corner of his gaze, not too sure on what his friend was going to do.

    The thief's knees quivered at the Prince's words, "P▬please, My Lord," he begged, close to tears. "I▬I do not steal for myself! I▬I have▬I have three children! They▬they have not eaten for two days. They▬they are hungry, My Lord!"

    Arthur approached the thief. At each step, he stumbled backwards, terrified. "It is the same for everyone."

    "I▬I▬I know it is wrong to steal!" The looter broke out into a soft sob. He hung his head, trying to hide his tears from the Prince. His breath hitched and his whole body shook. Merlin swallowed hard, unable to watch. "I could not ... I could not bear to see them starve ..."

    Arthur pursed his lips. In a more forgiving tone, he murmured, "And could you bear for your children to see you be executed?"

    The thief shook his head. He sniffled back more tears.

    The Prince watched the man whimper in front of him▬he looked ready to drop to his knees and beg for his life. Arthur found something in his heart ache. This was not some thief▬nor some looter. This was a desperate father who was trying to do everything he could to make sure that his family survived▬that his children would live to see another sunrise. It was only a pity that Arthur had managed to catch him, because he knew that if he had to watch his own children starve, and cry, and ask for food and he had nothing to give ... he would do whatever it took to make sure he could hand them even the slightest piece of crust.

    This man, his children, his wife and whoever shared the house he lived in ... they were Arthur's people. He couldn't ... perhaps it made him weak, but he couldn't take a father away from his children for only trying to make sure they could have a future.

    His father would show no mercy. He would have this man arrested and executed by dawn, and not blink an eye as his family watched and weeped. For a moment, Arthur held this strange, staggering realisation that if he did the same, he would consider himself cruel.

    He swallowed▬his tongue was parched and his stomach was churning with hunger. "Then you should go home," he decided.

    The peasant's gaze darted upwards; his breath hitched again▬yet this time, it was filled with hope. Arthur stepped to the side in order to let him pass. He set his jaw and looked away from the man's surprised stare, "If you are caught stealing again, I will not spare you. Do you understand?"

    The man's face lit up with a wonderful, thankful smile. "Yes, My Lord," he breathed, slumping with relief. "Yes▬yes▬Thank you."

    He set down the bag of grain with the others. Arthur stared at it even after the man walked on, muttering prayers of gratitude to the saints. But something in Arthur made him stop the man before he could go. He hunched up, panicked. But then his shoulders fell in soft appreciation as the Prince picked up the bag of grain and threw it back over.

    The man caught it in his arms. He stared, not sure what was happening▬or what he was supposed to do.

    Arthur thought about his children, and the other starving children▬about every starving pair of eyes that stared back up at him whenever he gazed down that window. And he finally felt as if he had done something to help them. "Use it sparingly amongst your family and others▬it is in times like these that we must help each other, not push ourselves away with fear."

    He could see a proud glint reflect off the man's torch in his friends' stares. He glanced briefly over, and saw Merlin hide a smile to his boots. Ronyn met his stare and nodded▬he was not at all surprised that Arthur made this choice. It made him feel as if he had definitely chosen the right one.

    The peasant bowed his head, the whimpering, breathless look about him gone▬now, there stood a man quite different. "You have shown yourself to be merciful and kind, My Lord," he said in a voice that didn't sound like his own. "This will bring its own reward."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    THE NEXT DAY, a miracle was blessed. With no reason, and no warning, the water had suddenly returned to the underground reservoir. The sand-beds had disappeared, and reports of water flowing through the rivers and creeks reached the city with cheers of joy. Overnight, lakes, dams, rivers, wells and every puddle of water had suddenly returned and every mouth relished the taste of fresh, cool water after two days. Instead of wine and mead, men in the taverns drank tankards full of pristine, wonderful, delightful water.

    Gwen had never known water to taste so lovely. There were lines and lines in front of the wells, and even Morgana with the help of Adelynn had brought buckets from the Upper Town supply, handing out cups to those waiting in line who weren't allowed to take from wells beyond the bridge. People forgot about their twisting hunger, filling their aching stomachs with so much water some even found themselves sick on the streets. But it was a morning where everyone had a smile on their face and prayed in the chapels and in their homes, thankful to the Lord who had blessed them with the chance to live.

    But water couldn't hide their hunger for long. By mid morning, the city gates had been opened to leagues and leagues of travellers from the outlying villages▬so desperate for food that they brought themselves here in hope of aid. The ration stations were hectic with crying children, starving elderly and furious men shoving back and forth once again▬except the line now stretched all the way through the gates and up the slope towards the Darkling Woods. Gwen had no idea how the inns were going to house all the extra people, or how they were going to spread out the already thin rations to more and more people.

    She walked by, down past the crowds and tried her very best to not look at some who were crippled with sickness. So desperate they had eaten whatever they could find, without realising it might just kill them all the same. Guards and knights passed to and fro, doing their very best to keep down arguments and stop fights▬one man was dragged, screaming away from the line after trying to push his way to the front.

    Her own stomach growled at her, begging for food. She had none to give it. And now, she was sure she held no chance at refilling her bag of rations before they ran out.

    She clutched her basket tight, hiding its contents with material she had ready to sew. It wasn't easy to grab what she had found, but now that she gazed at all of these people, she was terrified that she would not be able to pass out the stolen bread, cheese and left-overs from the castle kitchens amongst even a quarter of the line.

    Guinevere searched for Morgana amongst the growing crowd. But instead of seeing her mistress, she caught the attention of the Lord Vecentia who had made his way out to the open to gaze at the line of beggars. She held her breath and pursed her lips, quickly looking away. She hoped that she would be able to pass him without a second glance▬but she knew that hope was too good to be true.

    She had tried her very best to try and act as if nothing had happened. To return things back to the way they had been before. She believed Ronyn had agreed to these terms, and understood why these sudden feelings between them could be not even that▬but it seemed that after years of running away from people, and keeping himself separate from those he knew below him, Ronyn Vecentia couldn't throw himself back into his own patterns. Gwen cursed herself for ever scolding him for it. Her life would be much easier these days if she had not.

    He could not stop himself from subtly stepping forward and stopping her in her path. Turning away to hide their conversation in the shadows of the stone wall. "What have you got there?" he asked her.

    Gwen managed a stiff smile, "Fabric. I am a seamstress▬" she tried to step around him but he just followed, reaching into her basket to pull away the wool. She huffed, annoyed at how easily he figured out her ruse. She eyed him sharply, "Have you no thought of personal space, My Lord?"

    Ronyn quickly hid the food she had stolen as a guard passed on by. She stepped back and bowed her head, eyeing the man as he continued, not giving them even a breath of a thought.

    Once he was gone, the Lord Vecentia stepped closer and whispered, "How did you manage to find all of that?"

    Guinevere relented. She was grateful that her hunger made it easy to ignore how close he stood. Pursing her lips, she didn't meet Ronyn in the eye as she mumbled, "I may have ... perhaps ... smuggled it out of the kitchens?"

    His eyes widened at her. A surprised grin tugged at his lips, "Guinevere!" he scolded jokingly in a light voice. "You troublesome fox!"

    "Keep your voice down!" she snapped in order to hide her want to smile back. Ronyn quickly nodded, pursing his lips and putting on a ridiculously serious face. Her heart fluttered at it.

    "Yes, apologies," he whispered dramatically and she rolled her eyes. "I shall speak in my very, very quiet inside voice for you, My Lady, from now on."

    Guinevere stammered. Her heart seemed to stop beating entirely as she recognised what he had said. She glanced up, startled. She slowly watched Ronyn realise as well, and all confidence wavered from him as his cheeks flushed. "Uh▬" he quickly back tracked. "I mean▬I will▬I did not▬that was not▬you▬uh▬it was not my intention▬that does not mean to say I do not think you beautiful enough to be▬oh, blast the Lord..." he huffed and closed his eyes, growing more and more flushed and flustered by the second.

    Her gaze softened. Despite what they had promised▬what they knew was best for either of them, Gwen's heart warmed as she muttered, "You ... you think I am beautiful?"

    Ronyn met her gaze. It bore into her with such sadness, and yet such tender care. Gwen's brows lifted at it, not sure how she never noticed how gentle the gaze of Lord Vecentia actually was. "Guinevere," he said softly, "you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon ..." he sighed, looking away, "... no matter what reasons keep us apart, you should know that."

    She wished she could be filled with a swell of happiness in her heart▬for as she glanced down, and saw her calloused fingers, and her dirty skirts, and her rushed hair ... and to think that someone looked at that, and found that the embodiment of beauty ... No one has ever called Guinevere beautiful before, with that look in their eyes and that little smile on their face. And it hurt, because all she felt was this aching sadness to know that it could never be.

    Gwen wished she never admitted anything. She wished she still ignorantly hated Ronyn Vecentia with every breath she held. Because now, when she wanted to hate him for everything he stood for: every smile, every gentle look, every little laugh and every ridiculous face he made▬or stumble as he tripped over Arthur's shoes as they walked in the citadel square ... she could not.

    "Ronyn..." she breathed sadly.

    "I know," he nodded, understanding. "I know ... I just ... I just wished for you to hear it before I might lose the chance."

    She pursed her lips. Guinevere hung her head. She fiddled with the handle of her basket, "Thank you, My Lord," she decided to say in the end.

    A sad, gaping silence passed between them. Until Ronyn broke it with a gesture to her basket, "Are you planning to hand that out?"

    She nodded. "Yes." Then, Gwen sighed. "But it is far from being enough."

    Ronyn pursed his lips. He glanced down the long, winding line, and then back to her basket. Something flickered in his gaze. He stood straighter, "I have an idea."

    Guinevere frowned, "Pardon me?"

    The Lord Vecentia glanced around them before subtly leading Guinevere to the side, "I have an idea, come with me."

    "What?" she demanded. "Why?"

    He huffed, already exasperated, "Just▬trust me, all right? I am not leading you to some murder room, Gwen."

    She rolled her eyes, "I was not thinking of that extreme, but you are awfully suspicious."

    "Just come on..." he dragged her with a little chuckle, darting them out of the eye of the guards and into a back pathway between the walls between the Lower Town and Upper Town.

    Guinevere followed, a little incredulous as she gazed upwards at the two stone foundations between them. "Where are we▬?"

    "Shhh!" Ronyn whispered to her before taking her hand and pulling her along at a faster pace. She didn't even stop him, chuckling out her dubious feeling and jogging a little to catch up. Some thrill jolted in her her heart, and her hunger seemed to disappear as she ran quietly with Ronyn through the secret pathway he knew; away from the bridge and back towards the centre of the city.

    He knew this pathway back to front. He was not stumbling over mud and turning his nose up at wooden planks he had to walk across in the Lower Town. Instead, he was helping Gwen leap over muddy puddles and avoid the homes of critters underneath rocks and in the crevices of the stone walls. He pulled her up against it at one point to avoid the guards passing on by, making their rounds on the outer citadel walls.

    Once they were a good distance away from the crowd, Ronyn sent her a childish grin and pulled her close, "When Camelot was first founded by Bruta Pendragon," he said to her in a whisper. "The Upper Town did not exist. Camelot was merely a round fortress for the Roman soldiers to fend themselves against the Celts. Just a wall of stone and barracks." He pointed to the citadel walls, that now as Guinevere focused on them, were remarkably older than the stone foundations on the right. "My ancestor, Octavius, after the lands were separated into the Five Kingdoms, did not want to leave the side of his King, and so he built the Vecentia Manor. Right in the shadow of his dearest friend, and ruler. So he would be there whenever his King needed him. From then on, the Upper Town walls were built▬and as Camelot grew, the walls stretched onwards to outskirt the villages that soon became the Lower Town. But they are all connected. Each and every single one. My great, great, great, great, great▬" he went on, mockingly and Gwen laughed, unable to believe him, "▬er▬whatever grandfather, Lord Gwen Vecentia▬" his voice dropped to a dramatic low tone, as if telling Guinevere a horrible secret, "▬it is rumoured he is the bastard of a Irish King, which makes me a royal▬"Ronyn bounced his brows, grinning. He put his fingers to his lips. "Don't tell Arthur▬used to have a secret guard that he used to gather secret information, even from the King at the time. He built these tunnels in these walls for his men to pass through undetected to every inch of the city ... all the way back to the Vecentia Manor."

    They stopped right in front of an old, oak door. Ronyn▬eyes bright and excited▬held his hand out as if to showcase some magnificent trick. "Ladies first."

    Gwen narrowed her eyes, playful. But she stepped forwards and clasped the handle. With a mighty heave, she pushed it open. The door scraped on old, dusty stone. She coughed as it billowed into her nose. There it revealed a narrow passageway that spread out in lengths of either end.

    "These days," Ronyn continued his dramatic history lesson as he led her inside. He grabbed a torch from the wall and lit it in the bracket of fire that looked as if it had been planted by the door years and years later. "These passageways are known to be used if Camelot is ever invaded. But between you and me, all it ever got used for was for games of tag when Odette, Arthur and I were kids. Come on, this way..."

    Guinevere watched him step forward with a breath of wonder. She has never heard of him speak of his childhood with the Prince and Odette▬not that she has ever asked. But even the young handmaiden, who was her dear friend, mentioned those years much. She tried to imagine a younger Ronyn racing past her with a young boy with blonde hair and long legs, and finally a girl four years younger, desperately trying to catch up. "You used to play in here?" she wondered aloud.

    "Yes," Ronyn reminisced the memory with a happy glint in his eyes. "Arthur used to scare Odette with ghost stories of dead soldiers in here▬she would walk the entire length, left to right, to prove him wrong. And then we would have to get the spider-webs out of her hair, because she is terrified of them."

    Gwen frowned after him as they started walking through the narrow, dark corridors. "You were close, I assume?"

    "Very," muttered Ronyn, and the delight he held started to fall ever-so-slightly. "Odette's mother was my own mother's handmaiden. Ivette used to sing me to sleep to distract me from ..." he trailed off.

    A horrible feeling settled in Guinevere's chest. Careful, she asked, "From what...?"

    Ronyn glanced back at her. The look in his eyes in the gleam of the torch fire broke her heart a little. "From the sounds of my father hitting my mother. Some nights, she would ..." he took a sharp breath, turning to face forwards, so she would see the shattered stare he held, "... she would weep so loud that no matter what I did to shut it out, I would hear it all night long."

    "Did he ..." Gwen felt sick. "Did he ...?"

    She didn't need to finish her question. At the solemn nod Ronyn gave her, she knew. Guinevere pursed her lips, and for the first time, found herself finally started to begin to truly understand Ronyn Vecentia. He was more than just a frustrating boy who often ran from his responsibilities and now a man who bickered with Morgana just to annoy her ... he was also a child with a broken past that weighed him down in each step he took.

    They didn't speak another word for the rest of the journey through the corridors until Ronyn came across a second door. He stopped and muttered, "Here▬" he pushed it open with a lot of effort and sunlight cascaded through into the darkness, making Guinevere squint her eyes.

    When they stepped out, she found herself inside a wonderful garden. Rows of colourful flowers spread out like legions of soldiers of red, yellow, lavender and blue. Multiple fountains depicting many figures of ancient mythology gushed fresh water where they had once been dry. Hedges depicted mazes of pathways where bumblebees buzzed and dragonflies hovered. Birds sang their songs above and from the fingertips of stone fountain busts▬Guinevere felt as if she had stepped out into a miniature heaven.

    "Welcome to my garden," Ronyn managed to force out a cheeky quip▬but Gwen knew what he meant. The conversation they had, he did not want to delve more into it. She respected that, and decided to step forwards onto the pebble pathways with a small smile.

    "Do you grow these flowers yourself?" she asked him innocently.

    "Er▬well, no."

    "Then how is it your garden?"

    "Because I pay for it," Ronyn brushed past her and made a beeline straight for the grand back wall of his manor. As he did, he took a few pebbles from the ground and skidded down left through the hedge maze until he stood underneath a towering line of three windows.

    Gwen wondered what he was doing until he tossed a pebble in his palm, testing its weight, before chucking it▬hard▬up to hit the middle window.

    She blanched, "What are you doing?!" she asked him.

    "Fret not," Ronyn grinned as he chucked a second one, even harder, at his target, "she knows what it means."

    He waited a few seconds. Then, he tossed his third and final pebble, he went to throw it▬

    The window on the second floor flung open furiously and the angry head of Miss Adelynn Vecentia popped out to glower down at her brother, "What?" she demanded. "What do you want, you menace?"

    "Sister!" greeted Ronyn in an awfully cheerful voice. "Fair day, is it not?"

    Adelynn's scowl hardened. "It was, until I saw your ugly face. What are you▬?" she noticed Gwen standing awkwardly a few paces away and her brows shot up, startled. "Gwen?" she raised a sheepish hand to wave up at Ronyn's sister. "How did you get in here?"

    Gwen just pointed to Ronyn who was still tossing his final pebble, as if considering to throw it up at his sister anyway. "Addie," he began, "can you do us a favour and unlock the servant door to the kitchens?"

    Adelynn propped her elbows onto the edge of her window. She considered his request. "I could," she offered. "But what would I get out of it?"

    "A new paint brush set?"

    She rolled her eyes, "No. You always offer that. It is getting old."

    "A new set of paints, then?"

    "Still unoriginal. I would defer from the artistry option."

    Ronyn huffed, rolling his eyes▬he knew exactly what his sister wanted. "I will accompany you to go wherever you wish."

    Adelynn pointed down at him, "For a month!" she assured. "Starting tomorrow. And it will include the markets, Gaius's chambers▬"

    "▬Gaius's chambers▬why on earth would you want to willingly▬?"

    "▬Morgana's chambers and any feast," she listed them off on her fingers, "tournament, banquet, ceremony, the library, casual walk wherever I wish▬"

    "Fine!" Ronyn relented. "If it means you will help and stop annoying me."

    She smiled, "Perfect. I will be as quick as I can."

    She disappeared back into her room and Ronyn glanced back at Guinevere, "Anything that hasn't turn to mould, you can have. Surely there should be enough to share around, then."

    Her eyes widened. She realised what he was doing, and this time, she did feel her heart swell with warmth. Guinevere smiled▬beamed even. "Thank you," she told him, hoping he understood just how much this meant to her.

    Ronyn smiled back at her. He nodded, pleased to see her happy. "It is the least I can do. No," he backtracked, "it is the right thing of me to do."

    Her smile only broadened.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    ARTHUR STARED, glum, at the food Merlin served him. He turned his face up at the stew that spilled out onto his plate▬even if he did have an appetite, he would have lost it the moment he glanced at the sight that was his manservant's cooking.

    He looked away, "I've lost my appetite."

    Merlin stared at him, and then down at the food he made. "You have to eat something."

    Arthur shook his head. He didn't deserve a meal▬not when his people were out there going hungry. Not when it was his fault. How could he manage a bite of anything when he started to realise that ... that maybe he had caused all of this suffering on his people▬his innocent people ... and if he did, what future King did that make him? He might as well starve.

    He slumped back in his seat, sick to his stomach. What King was he ever going to be if he was the reason that his own people are dying? All he did was make mistakes that hurt the people he cares about. He even killed his mother the moment he was born ... if that didn't say something about who he was, and how incapable he was to protect this kingdom, he didn't know what else it meant▬what else it was than the world telling him he was destined to disappoint them all.

    "I can't," he muttered, gaze hung low, "not while my people are starving."

    Merlin set down his ladle, a sad look weighing down in his eyes. Arthur didn't even know how he could eat in front of his servant, who was starving just like the rest of them. Starving, and yet handing him his meal despite it.

    Arthur pursed his lips. He has never felt more ashamed than he did now. "Do you really believe I am responsible for the curse?"

    His servant hesitated. Then, he nodded, "I'm afraid so."

    He appreciated his honesty. Arthur took a deep breath, but it hurt deep within his chest. He glanced sideways towards his window.

    Unexpected, he heard Odette in his mind, as if she was standing right beside him, I do know that you will do anything in your power to end it.

    And what if I can't? he said to her miserably.

    But you will.

    He clenched his hands and set his jaw. What did she see in him that was so great? How has she not lose her belief by now? She should have.

    And yet ... Odette hasn't.

    Arthur rubbed at his brow, frustrated. I have faith in you, her words in Ealdor came to the forefront of his mind, and suddenly, Arthur wished he had her in the room with him. Had her to speak to instead of flood his mind and make him want to give up, knowing that he will never be able to become the man she thought he was.

    And yet fill him with stubborn determination, because he wanted to be. He knew what she would say right now, if she were beside him. She would tell him that he had made a mistake, but would hold no anger, because she would then say that she knew he would only remedy it▬because that was all that there was left for him to do. He did this, and so now, to protect his people, he had to fix it. He had to do the right thing.

    Arthur's hand dropped and he decided, "We are going to the forest first thing in the morning. Maybe we can pick up Anhora's trail. Whatever it takes."

    He noticed Merlin fight back a smile. "Okay," he nodded before reaching forward to push his plate closer, "but you have to eat. You won't be able to help anyone if you are too weak to pass the test."

    He closed the lid of his pot and took it away from the table, setting it down on the dresser by the door. Arthur sighed, knowing he was right and leaned forward, grabbing his spoon to pick at the ... strange meat within the sauce. He glanced up at Merlin who's gaze snapped away to the wall, finding the imperfections in the stone brick suddenly very interesting.

    Arthur eyed him for a moment, suspicious▬until he remembered what an idiot of a servant he had and it was not the most surprising thing that Merlin would drift off into a daze staring at a random wall.

    He held his breath and took a bite of his food. He frowned. There was something ... not quite right about it. He couldn't quite explain it. It wasn't too bad of a taste and yet ... Arthur chewed hard at the meat, having never tasted anything of such a unique texture.

    The Prince tossed the meat with the sauce, "What kind of meat is this...?" he muttered as he swallowed, trying to pick at the after taste. "It has a very strange texture."

    Merlin glanced at him. He looked strange. In a quick, curt voice, he told him: "It is pork."

    Arthur made a face, "This is not▬" he pointed his spoon at the stew, "▬pork. It is far too stringy." He took another bite, not minding it. "What is it? It is, um ..."

    He dropped his spoon into the bowl. As he realised, he suddenly wanted to throw the meal across the room at his servant. Arthur scoffed, smiling sarcastically with a full mouth▬too proud to spit it out. He forced himself to swallow, and once he did, he resisted the urge to shiver. He locked his gaze with his manservant who hunched up, recognising that he had figured it out.

    "It is rat, isn't it?"

    Merlin held his breath. He went to say something, but decided better. He nodded, "Try not to think about it."

    Arthur groped for his water and drank the rest of it in one mighty swallow. Even then he couldn't get rid of the taste▬the thought he had just eaten the rat that had been terrorising his chambers for the past week and a half. Merlin winced at his glare and shuffled forward, hesitant as he reached to take Arthur's plate▬

    He quickly stopped him, "Oh, look at me," he began and Merlin pursed his lips, knowing exactly what he was doing. Arthur smiled, vengeful, "I am being rude. Here I am stuffing my face with this ... delicious stew ... when you are hungry too!"

    Merlin gaped. He shook his head, "Uh▬"

    Arthur stood up and pulled out his chair, "Come on▬" he walked around and grabbed his manservant by the shoulder before he got the chance to run away. "Take a seat."

    "No▬"

    He shoved Merlin down into his chair. Arthur leaned in close, glowering at the boy who gulped audibly down at the meal in front of him. "Eat," ordered the Prince.

    He watched as Merlin slowly leaned forward, lifting a spoon of the practical joke he decided to give Arthur. With a wince, he threw it into his mouth. Merlin almost gagged, but he forced it down into his throat▬he made a very strangled noise, as if he also swallowed some bile with it.

    "Delicious, is it not?" asked Arthur, admittedly enjoying this.

    Merlin had to give himself a moment. He shivered and nodded, sarcastic, "Yes," he cleared his throat. "It is ... it is actually pretty tasty."

   Arthur grinned, "Well! I am glad you like it, Merlin▬" he marched to where he had set down the entire broth. Picking it up, he pressed it, loudly, down in front of his servant. He opened the lid, "▬because there is plenty more."

    His servant paled with terror.

    There was a knock on the door.

    Not breaking his glare, Arthur muttered, "Enter."

    Merlin sat up immediately as soon as he saw who it was. At the look on his face, Arthur turned around▬he stiffened, quickly rushing to lean against the table and clear his throat when he saw Odette hesitantly peer inside. "Odette!" he greeted. "How▬? A pleasure, it is."

    Her gaze landed on the scene before her, and she stared, incredulous.

    "Erm..." in the end, she shook her head and moved on. "I▬er▬well, I do hate to ask but Morgana was wondering whether you might have anything to eat?"

    Arthur gaped. He stammered, glancing back at the broth sitting on his table. Merlin held no hesitance. He just smiled through a full mouth. He reached out a finger and slowly pushed the stew forwards for Odette to take.

    He swallowed and his smile turned into a grin. "Believe me," said Merlin, quite mischievous, "it is very delicious."

    Arthur set his jaw, but found himself smiling as well. Odette stared, fearful at their crazed smiles.

    She eyed the stew. She didn't trust them▬at all. "What is in it?" she asked warily.

    "Pork," the Prince and the manservant said together. They held matching grimaces.

    Odette shuffled on the spot. She rocked back and forth, as if she knew, deep down, they were lying. Then she walked over and picked the pot up. Giving them final, dubious glances, she left.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    a/n: are u even soulmates if ur future husband doesn't give you rat for food without you knowing?

    no but like I love that interaction because like Arthur is here like uhhhh while merlin is like: this is the perfect chance for payback - i have no regrets. here u go odette. take it! it is delicious ... you will love it *evil smiles*

    and then arthur just goes along with it because they're all still chaotic children nothing has changed. the scene when morgana asks for it just makes me laugh every time because arthur's reaction is literally so brother coded like my brothers would do the exact same thing.

     u know what? they probably have.

    they're gonna be married and out of nowhere odette will realise and she'll be like YOU GAVE ME RAT FOR FOOD?!?

    also I love the scene between ronyn and gwen it's so cute.