“But you’re not—” he began, confused. And then the gate guards got a look at him, and it was all “My lord Gawain! The whole castle has been waiting!” which was exactly what Emry had been counting on.

CHAPTER 14

When his father sent for him the day after his cousin’s arrival at court, Arthur wasn’t surprised, just resigned to whatever it was he’d unknowingly done wrong this time. Perhaps one of his tutors had a complaint, or he had annoyed Lord Agravaine with his questions regarding land grants in the latest council meeting.

Or maybe it was nothing at all, and Gawain’s arrival was simply making him paranoid. As children, they’d been pitted against each other so often that it had turned them into enemies instead of allies.

Though they weren’t children anymore, Arthur still couldn’t forgive his cousin for all of those years he’d gloated over small, useless victories. And he certainly couldn’t forgive him for staying silent as his younger brother betrayed Lance, taking away everything his friend had worked for as well as his future.

He was dishonorable, Arthur thought. And a man without honor was as morally bereft as his word.

At least Gawain had no interest in the wizard’s workshop. For that, Arthur was thankful. The tower room was the one place in the castle where he could still find peace.

Even if he wished Merlin would snap out of his funk. He supposed the lad was embarrassed from nearly fainting after performing the healing spell. It was nothing to be ashamed of. That was a piece of risky, impressive magic, and Arthur hadn’t quite believed Merlin would dare, much less manage it on his first go. But he had. And whenever Arthur remembered catching the young wizard in his arms, he felt his own cheeks go warm.

So he didn’t talk about it. Even though he really did want to say thank you. The way Merlin had helped Lance—at his own expense—it meant a lot. There weren’t many in the castle who would have done the same.

Arthur paused outside the door to his father’s rooms, taking a moment. It wasn’t often these days that he came to visit this corridor of the castle. His mother’s old chambers were just down the hall, cloaked with a sense of disuse.

He glanced away, swallowing thickly. Trying not to think of her. Because if he started, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop.

It was just a room now. Just another empty space.

Even so, the lack of guards outside made him ache with loss.

Steady, Arthur told himself, taking a deep breath. You’re the crown prince of Camelot. You should be able to handle seeing a door.

“Enter,” called his father, and his guards crisply flung open the doors.