“Well, I’m not,” complained Lance. “If anyone cares.”

“Right,” Merlin said, pausing a moment before adding, “Princess, you should probably leave before I begin. Healing spells can get a bit . . . messy.”

“Messy?” Guinevere asked, wrinkling her nose. “How so?”

“It’s best if you just take my word for it,” Merlin said delicately.

Guinevere blanched, hastily bobbing a curtsey and giving a formal farewell.

After she was gone, Arthur felt the tension ease from his shoulders. Sard, she was exhausting. She acted like—well, like a princess, he supposed.

“Finally,” Merlin muttered.

Arthur glared. The wizard had no right to undermine him like that in front of his future wife.

“What? I didn’t see either of you making her leave,” Merlin retorted. “Now shut up and let me concentrate.”

Merlin muttered the spell, wand aimed at Lance. Lance’s wound faded to a thin pink welt, and the wizard’s knees buckled.

Arthur was there in an instant. Merlin stared up at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted. And Arthur was overcome with the strongest desire to press his lips against the wizard’s, as though they were both dying, and the only cure was each other. He could feel his heart racing, and wondered if Merlin could feel it, too.

“You can set me down now,” Merlin said. “I’m fine.”

Arthur released the wizard, who pasted back on that signature smirk. He felt like a fool for rushing over, as though rescuing a swooning maiden, instead of an arrogant ass who had felt the need to insult one.

“You didn’t have to antagonize Guinevere like that,” he said harshly.

“Are you kidding? She never shuts up, she’s offended by everything, and she speaks as if she’s reading off a scroll.”

Lancelot snorted.

“Merlin,” Arthur warned, quietly furious. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“You don’t want to hear it, or you don’t agree?”

That was it. He’d had enough of the wizard’s mocking. Merlin had hit a nerve, and instead of backing off, had scratched deeper and deeper.

“You forget your place,” Arthur snapped, “apprentice.”

He’d never spoken to Merlin like that before, and he didn’t know which of them was more surprised. The room went silent and cold. The wizard stared at him in disbelief, as though the blow had been physical. Lance shifted awkwardly, trying to melt back against the wall.

A storm gathered in Merlin’s eyes. The air crackled and fizzed, and the candle flames stretched to an unnatural height. The glass bottles on the shelves trembled and clinked like chattering teeth.

Arthur’s stomach twisted, and he wondered for the first time what would happen if the wizard lost control.

Then Merlin took a deep breath, and the crackle of magic disappeared, everything returning to normal. They glared at one another in the uneasy silence. And then Merlin dipped into an exaggerated, sarcastic bow.