Chapter Twenty-Six

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Merlin heard the sound of someone's steps on the wet, leaf-covered ground. Turning around, he saw Arthur approaching him. This time the golden-haired king was wearing a warm smile instead of the cold, angered expression from their last conversation.

Arthur seemed to look for words before gesturing to a stone next to Merlin and saying: "Can I sit with you?"

Merlin nodded wondering what had changed Arthur's attitude.

For a while neither of them said anything. Eventually, Arthur opened his mouth: "I'm sorry."

The words were a little surprise for Merlin because the king rarely apologised. Or perhaps Merlin hadn't just been noticing this new change in Arthur's behaviour.

"It's alright," Merlin answered, "I should've been honest with you."

"No, it doesn't justify me yelling," Arthur insisted. He buried his head in his hands and sighed. "I've been thinking that if I were in your place, I would have done the same thing."

"And if I had been in your place, I would have been angry too," Merlin responded trying to make their conversation lighter. "And after that, I would have made you clean out the stables," he continued with a grin.

"Yeah, I still can't believe that a missing prince was cleaning our stables," Arthur laughed.

Merlin had thought he would never be blessed with the sound of Arthur's laugh again. It made a warm feeling appear in his stomach and his grin widened. Perhaps, everything wasn't lost after all.

"Arthur..." he hesitated. If there were any hope, he didn't want to ruin it. He wanted to tell Arthur what he felt but the fear of being rejected was overwhelming.

"I know," Arthur whispered.

Suddenly, he was closer than before and Merlin's lungs couldn't find air anymore. He too leaned slowly closer. Arthur's gaze bounced between Merlin's eyes and lips. Now they were only inches apart.

"Am I interrupting?" A cold but familiar voice asked. Merlin and Arthur jumped apart and looked towards the voice.

The voice belonged to an angry-looking Keane but that wasn't the only surprise. What surprised them more was the person standing beside him. In the setting sun her black, long hair glimmered when she step forward and gave an evil grin to them.

"Hello, dear brother," she said.

"Morgana?" Arthur asked astonished. "What are you doing here?"

Morgana glanced at Keane. "He was the one who told me you were here. And imagine my surprise when I heard about Merlin's little secret."

Everyone looked at Merlin.

"Hello, Emrys," she stressed the name with clear satisfaction. Although she had put on a faint smile, her eyes glared at Merlin without any mercy.

Merlin stared back. He had hoped that Morgana wouldn't know about him but clearly, his brother had told her.

Keane stepped forward. "I looked for her after you told me about her in the throne room," he said it proudly like he had achieved something magnificent, "I must say that I thought there wouldn't be anyone with more hatred towards you, Merlin, than me. But this candidate comes pretty close with her amount of hate."

Merlin chose to stand up even though every muscle in his body ached and protested against moving. Beside him, Arthur had already yielded his sword. Looking at the golden-haired king with a sword, ready to fight, he realised what he needed to do.

"Morgana doesn't hate me," he said trying to keep his voice steady, "she fears me. My powers."

The golden-haired king beside him gave a glance like saying 'Don't provoke them. But Merlin knew it didn't matter if he annoyed them little, just for fun. In the end, they were still going to try to kill him and Arthur so how could the situation get any worse.

"And Keane, this is the proof of your cowardice. As always, you stand behind people because you lack the courage to–"

Keane interrupted Merlin by a scream of despair: "I'm not a coward!" All attention was drawn to Keane's angered figure. His face turned bright red. Merlin thought with satisfaction that it was more likely from embarrassment than anger.

Arthur stepped a little in front of Merlin to block him from Keane's burning eyes. His hands were around his sword more firmly. White knuckles on the sword's hilt. But even though Keane appeared to be exploding, Merlin knew he would never physically attack them. He wasn't the kind of person to risk his own life in a fight.

Merlin wasn't wrong about Keane but his mistake was to not pay attention to the witch's movements. Before Merlin had time to react, he was already flying backward.

He crashed to the ground painfully. The sore muscles and bruises from previous fights made the sharp pain shoot through his body while he gasped desperately for air.

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