Chapter 1


From the Angry waves of the Great Seas of Meredor to the gentle peaks of the Mourning Mountains, there sat a land, full of amazing creatures capable of amazing feats, a land of prosperity and virtue, where honor stands above all else. The people lived in harmony, their differences embraced and shared, knowledge being passed from one to another and so on. This magical place was called, Camelot. But as it seems, all good things must come to an end, and honor fell from its pedestal, hatred and suspicion replacing it. No more were differences embraced, the people no longer lived in harmony, and knights had no honor. The people suffered, greatly, and an era of fire was ushered in. It seemed that an orange glow cast on the land, no other color in sight, save for red blood. Hot fire burned infinitely, the heat alone stripping all of their secrets, the smoke blinding the men who enforced it. Mothers ripped from families, fathers condemned for trying to protect them, and children punished for the matter they had no choice in. It was mayhem.


Sunlight filtered through the treetops, its warm rays casting a green tint on the forest floor. A soft breeze swayed the green oaks, limbs dancing. The life was calm, deer grazing on the grasses lining the edge of the forest, birds in their nests so high above, chirping their delights. The forest was a place of serenity where life worked together, each being dependent on the other. There was peace, far from the hustle and bustle of the world just beyond the treeline.

It had always been a place of escape for her. When the castle grew too hectic or the dresses and expectations drowned her. Away from the frivolity of court, was where she was her most free self. There, the King didn't push her to wed, his ward didn't shove her in dresses in corsets. There, she was free to be anything but a Lady. But the time always seemed too short, one duty or another creeping up and taking her away from the safe haven.

"My Lady, we must return to the castle at once. You must prepare for Prince Selver's arrival."

Begrudgingly, she dragged her whiskey eyes to meet the lithe figure of her young maid, Brunilda. Brunilda was not her maid by choice, in fact, she'd rather have no maid, but the King insisted, and she would be a fool to refuse. Even she knew her limits. Curling her arms around her body and pulling her knees tighter to her chest, the young women sighed, "I'd rather rot in the dungeons than have dinner with that royal prick."

"My lady, you are of noble birth and a near daughter to the King, you must marry a man befitting your station." Brunilda almost huffed, annoyed with her lady. Brunilda would give anything to be in her position, rich, beautiful, marrying a Prince. And yet, her lady never seemed to want it, turning down more marriage offers than there were horses in the stables.

"How many times have I told you not to call me 'My Lady'?"

"Far too many." When her lady smirked, Brunilda got irritated. Dealing with the King's ward was far more laborious than the job of any Knight. It was something akin to babysitting a child, a child with a hot temper and seemingly undying effort to make her life harder. "My la- Ayseranwinn, please! The Prince should be arriving any minute, with the songstress Lady Helen. You must be dressed!"

"I am dressed." Brunilda assessed her lady's state, raising a brow at her muddy trousers and the leaves that caught in her hair. "Besides, I'm in mourning."

"Mourning!?"

Ayseranwinn pushed herself off the ground, standing tall and looking her maid in the eyes. "Today Thomas Collins was murdered. I may not have known him, but I know he was a man who deserved not to die."

Brunilda rolled her eyes. "My l- Ayseranwinn, he was a criminal! A sorcerer! Magic is outlawed in Camelot, you have no power to change that."

"I know it is not in my power to sway the King, thus why I must mourn."

"This is ridiculous! You are acting like a child. Is this all to avoid meeting the Prince? Is it really so terrible that you'd wed a future king?" Brunilda was red in the face, her cheeks puffed out like a fish. Ayseranwinn fought back the laugh that bubbled in her throat. Brunilda may be insipid, but she was no fool when it came to her lady. She knew that Ayseranwinn found humor in her anger, which only served to fuel her frustration more. "That's it! I will shove you into a dress and force you to kiss this prince if it's the last thing I do."

And that was how Ayseranwinn, the King's other ward ended up being dragged through the town by her maidservant.


"Ayser, you look beautiful. The prince won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

Said woman's lip curled up in disgust, hands tugging at the low neckline of her dress. With the help of Morgana, Brunilda was able to stuff her lady into a silk dress, compliments of the king, and a corset. A dress that didn't allow for a sword to hang from her waist or a knife to be well hidden. Both things Ayser had suggested in case the Prince got too handsy.

"Morgana, please don't leave me alone with him. I could hardly stand him on our last trip to Nemeth. I can't be trusted not to run him through with my dagger."

Morgana's eyes narrowed on the woman that had come to be like a sister to her. Morgana knew Ayser better than she knew herself. "Where is it?" Ayser feigned shock, surely not knowing what her friend was talking about. "Come on, give it here. I can't imagine the King will be pleased that you brought a dagger to dinner. Where are you hiding it?"

Ayser sighed but smirked at Brunilda's look of pure confusion. With a huff, she reached down into the front of her dress, Brunilda's eyes widening as she did so. And from there, Ayser pulled out a small, but lethal dagger with a gold hilt. "Your father's?" Morgana asked, surprised.

"He'd have been proud that I used it to stab Prince Selver."

Morgana smirked. "No doubt. Now, come on, Arthur is waiting with Selver, can't have them alone for too long, I fear they may start dueling for your honor." Ayser smiled at that, imagining Arthur and Selver battling was like a horse and an ant race. Selver didn't stand a chance.

Against her will, Ayser was dragged down the great halls of Camelot, arm linked with Morgana's. When they had finally made it to the room they'd be dining in, the girls found Arthur, hand clenched into a fist and the other dangerously close to a knife. Sat across from him was the smirking Selver, happily drinking from his goblet of wine. Quickly both stood, greeting Morgana and Ayser respectively. Ayser moved to kiss Arthur on the cheek first, his hand coming to the small of her back and guiding her to the Prince from Nemeth with his teeth grinding. "Winn, you remember Prince Selver, from Nemeth. I understand you two have spent some time together?"

Ayser spared a glance at Arthur, who was practically vibrating as he pushed every word out. Pushing back the confusion, Ayser nodded to Selver, mustering a slight smile. Without warning, he swiped his billowing cape behind him and knelt before her. Ayser took a slight step back, eyes widening at his quick movement, as his hand quickly grabbed at hers and brought it to his lips. "My Lady, you are even more beautiful than our last meeting."

"And you are…" Ayser wasn't sure she could force any nice words out. "Welcome to Camelot," Arthur smirked at that, he and Morgana moving to their seats. Selver smiled wolfishly as he pulled Morgana's chair out for her, while Ayser and Arthur merely plopped in their own seats. "I'm starved."

As she and Arthur poised their forks to eat, Morgana raised her brows and cleared her throat. Both Arthur and Ayser dropped their forks, looking at the woman that was like their sister, and sometimes their mother. "I believe Prince Selver has a few words he'd like to say."

Arthur rolled his eyes. It didn't matter what Prince Selver said to charm Ayser, Arthur knew she'd reject his proposal like she did the last eight men. It was a cycle, a man of noble birth thinking he could have anything in the world would come and wine and dine her, offer her titles and more money than she could ever wish for. She'd respectfully decline, or rudely decline, it depended on how the wine and dine part went. And they'd be forced to leave in embarrassment. Clockwork. Arthur was surprised that no spurned princes declared war on Camelot yet.

"Thank you, Lady Morgana. Now, we've known each other for how long Ayseranwinn?" Ayser looked entirely bored, as she swirled the wine in her cup, head resting in her palm.

At the sound of her name, she sat up suddenly. "Um… I can't say. It feels like forever..."

Selver chuckled, and Arthur could see the faint blush taint his cheeks. It was surprising actually, considering Selver was a pompous prince who never was bashful, but Arthur was in no place to be calling anyone pompous. "I'm glad you feel the same then. You and I have a special bond, don't you think?" Morgana awkwardly shifted in her seat, preparing for another one of Ayser's blow-ups. They'd become frequent at dinners like that. "And to waste away a bond like the one we have would be a tragedy. How would you feel joining me on my journey back to Nemeth? It's absolutely beautiful this time of year. The trees are just blossoming and ladies wear their springtime dresses. Though I can't say they're as beautiful as yours."

Ayser was beginning to think that Selver was more of a woman than herself. The trees are blossoming? Springtime dresses? If Ayser was going anywhere with him, it'd be the see the strong knights and ride their fastest horses. Ayser felt awkward, and broke eye contact with him, looking at her dress. She couldn't deny that while she hated dresses, and more importantly, corsets, this dress was one of the most beautiful things she'd worn. The fabric of light grey danced across her skin, plunging at her bare back and trimming of gold glimmered in her whiskey eyes. She'd noticed that it showed too much skin, feeling uncomfortable under Selver's leering eyes, but even more so under Arthur's hot gaze.

She turned to look at him, the man she'd grown up with and played swords in the courtyard, eyes wide at the prospect of leaving Camelot. Forever. Selver's proposal was not of marriage, not by any means, but it certainly suggested it to come in the near future. Camelot was her home, Morgana her best friend, Arthur her confidant, Brunilda her annoying little sister in a way. The thought of leaving them saddened her. But she knew she couldn't turn down the Prince's offer, not outright at least. Uther was already furious enough with her as was. After she'd whacked the last Lord on his arse, he'd given her his cold treatment and told her that she would marry, whether she liked it or not.

"Your offer warms my heart, Your Highness. But can't make any rash decisions, and I'll have to consider it. You see, Camelot is my home, and the prospect of leaving it, for a year or even a month, leaves me uneasy."

The rest of dinner was eaten in silence, so much unlike Ayser's normal dinners with Arthur. Morgana and Ayser retired after dessertwas served, the threat Uther had given looming over their heads. It was times like these Ayser wished Brunilda could be married off.


The next morning, Ayser was in trousers yet again, much to Brunilda's dismay. Her muddied boots traipsed around the market in the lower town, whiskey eyes watching with delight as playing children whizzed by her feet. The market was one of Ayser's favorite places, her nostrils filled with the delicious aromas of food vendors and flowers, eyes scanned a place vibrant with color and life.

She'd successfully avoided the Prince from Nemeth and was hiding out in the place she was sure he wouldn't venture to. A large crowd had formed around the produce vendors, drawing Ayser's eyes as the people laughed with delight. Weaving her way through the crowd, Ayser frowned at what she saw.

Arthur had gotten into it with a peasant again, swinging his mace, poised to kill. The dark haired boy lay on the ground fear in his eyes, but much to Ayser's delight and surprise, Arthur's weapon caught in the sickles hanging from above. Arthur was out of sorts, he thrashed widely and tripped over his own feet, something Ayser thought rather odd. Arthur had always been an excellent fighter, mindful of his surroundings and good on his feet. But this Arthur was just making a fool of himself.

Ayser watched the whole thing with disappointed eyes, frowning when Arthur whacked the young man over the head with a broom, sending him tumbling to the ground. The guards hauled the young man to his feet, facing his Prince. As Arthur's eyes narrowed on him, Ayser pushed her way through the crowd, stepping in front of the brave young man. Stupid, but brave nonetheless. "Wait! You've made him pay enough Arthur. Let him go." Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Ayser just continued on, "Anyone able to disarm you is sure to be pardoned. You don't want to be known as the type of prince that throws people in dungeons just because they are better than him."

"He is not better than me." To prove Ayser wrong, just like she knew he would, Arthur turned to his guard with his hands on his hips. "Let him go. He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one. There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it."

Ayser grinned as Merlin swiftly took off, Gaius trailing after him. "You can't do that in front of everyone, Winn. I'm a prince, and you're just my father's ward."

There was a fire within Uther's Ward that was paralleled by none other. Ayseranwinn was a force to be reckoned with, and that was when she was just even-tempered. An angry Ayser was a dragon, ferocious and hardened. Ayser's face went red, her nose crinkling, and Arthur knew he was in trouble. The young woman paid no attention as he tried to backtrack, advancing on him as he backed away.

"Oh is that all I am? A little lady of the court to sit by your father's side? You seem to forget that I've bested you, Arthur Pendragon. In more ways than one! I don't care if you're crown Prince, I wouldn't even care if you were the King of the world. You're a royal prat who thinks he can just beat on his people!"

"He insulted me! I was defending my honor!" Arthur yelled back with equal ferocity. The two of them together was a sight behold. It seemed as if whenever Ayser was angry, so was Arthur. Their tempers separate, a thunder and lightning, but together, a hurricane.

"How can you defend something you don't have?! You're a prince, you're supposed to be above petty little fights."

"You question my honor!? Where is your grace? You've got to be the most infuriating woman! Why can't you be more like Morgana?" A resounding slap echoed in the marketplace, the vendors freezing, eyes wide at the scene. Ayser stormed away, leaving Arthur with a gobsmacked look on his red and raw face.


"Aren't you coming tonight?" Ayser sat on the edge of Morgana's bed, her head resting on her knees as she tucked them close to her body. A day had passed since Arthur and she fought in the square, and Morgana had surely noticed the change in her demeanor. The change in Arthur's too. They hadn't spoken and hadn't seen each other. Morgana thought it was for the best, a cool down was always required for the hotheads that were Ayser and Arthur. When Ayser seemed unresponsive, Morgana continued. "You know, I've been thinking about Arthur…"

"I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole." Ayser's head turned at the sound of shuffling feet. It was Merlin, the root of her and Arthur's argument. Though she was sure it was about much more.

Ayser opened her mouth to greet him but was cut off by Morgana. "Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?" Merlin raised his brows, noting the smirk on Ayser's face. He shook his head rapidly, only widening her smirk. Merlin paused with uncertainty, eyes practically popping out as Morgana started to undress. "I mean, the man's a total jouster. And just because I'm the King's ward, that doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it."

Merlin placed the dress on her screen, careful not to look, especially not in Ayser's presence, who he was sure would flay him. "No, it most certainly doesn't." Ayser sighed, Arthur, not being her favorite talking subject at the moment.

"Oh, you're at odds with him anyway. Gwen, what do you think?" Merlin, floundering, lets out a high pitched 'Mm-Mmm', nearly causing Ayser to fall out of her seat with laughter. Her shoulders shook and tears escaped her eyes. A good laugh was just what Gaius ordered. "If he wants me to go, then he should invite me, and he hasn't." Ayser watched as Merlin searched for a way to get out of the situation. "So do you know what that means?" Another 'Mm-Mmm' from Merlin. "Where are you?" Morgana looked around the room, searching for Gwen when all she saw was Ayser. Merlin stood tall, a cloak covering his face and body.

"Here." Ayser grinned, watching as Merlin squirmed and longed for a way out.

"What does it all mean, Morgana?" Ayser rolled her eyes when Morgana turned around again. The King's other ward always had a flair for theatrics.

Morgana sighed and pulled her dress on. "It means I'm going alone." Ayser raised a brow as Merlin put down the cloak to leave, knowing Morgana was going to need Gwen. "I need some help with this fastening." Merlin's face at that moment was probably one of the funniest things Ayser had ever seen in her life.

"My heart bleeds for you, Morgana. Woe is me, how will you ever survive without a strapping young man at your side?" Ayser fell back on the bed in a dramatic movement, her voice exaggerated.

"Gwen?" For a while it was silent, and Ayser lifted the arm covering her eyes to look at Merlin. Who was still there, whispering wildly to Gwen. With a smirk, she covered her eyes again.

"I'm here." Gwen turned to Merlin mouthing 'what are you doing here?' Merlin sighed in relief and motioned that Morgana needed assistance dressing. So with a nod, Gwen was rushing over to help her lady, leaving Merlin a blushing mess. The embarrassed boy left the three women, just as Morgana came out from behind the screen, wearing a new dress.

Morgana hit Ayser's leg with the back of her hand, forcing her to sit up. Holding up a maroon dress with gold trimmings. "So it's whether I wear this little tease… or give them a night they'll really remember." Gwen smiled as her lady twirled with the dress pressed against her. Brunilda, who had appeared out of nowhere, grinned, wishing her lady was more like Morgana. "Oh! Brunilda, doesn't Ayser have a dress just like this one?"

Just as Brunilda opened her mouth to respond excitedly, Ayser interjected. "No! I don't have anything like it, it's so beautiful, Morgana. I don't think I own anything this beautiful." Morgana's eyes narrowed, Ayser would never make a comment on a dress.

"She does, My Lady Morgana. I believe she wore it on the last visit to Nemeth."

"Oh yes, the green one right?" Morgana was far too excited by the idea of her and Ayser matching at the feast. "It'd be perfect, I bet Prince Selver remembers you in that dress. Who wouldn't? Oh, it's so romantic, Ayser." Ayser fought back a gag.

Brunilda was enjoying this too much, and Ayser threw a glare her way. "Ugh, and please that twat? Over. My. Dead. Body."


The great hall was teeming with excitement. Glorious food lined the tables in a display of luxury and wealth. Women huddled in groups, marveling at the lavish tapestries and dresses. Men roared in raucous laughter, clapping each other's backs with wine and ale filling their cups. And then, nothing. The crowd silenced, watching in awe as Lady Morgana and Lady Ayseranwinn entered, the bottoms of their dresses in hand.

The Lady Morgana's dress was a marvelous maroon, sleeveless and it's neckline almost like a triangle up to her neck. Small gold embellishments lined the waistline and neck. She had an unforgiving red on her plump lips, blue eyes dazzling with excitement. Her eyes looked to Arthur in expectancy, hoping to find his tongue rolling out of his head. She was pleased to find he was speechless.

Beside her, was Ayseranwinn, wearing a dress of the same style, only as green as the Enchanted Forest. The golden belt resembled leaves, all linked together in a chain and her collar the same. Small intricate golden leaves were woven into her tawny hair, a style Brunilda was proud to have accomplished. For an oaf of a lady, Ayseranwinn really cleaned up rather well. Most men, knights that she'd sparred with and lords alike, had never seen her so… ladylike. There was a certain grace that Ayseranwinn exuded, that went far beyond that of any lady. She had a commanding air, in battle and not, her presence demanded attention. Ayser looked absolutely stunning.

She floundered under the men's attention, not used to it like Morgana, who lapped it all up like a thirsty hound. Ayser felt exposed, and not in a good way. Glares she was used to, smiles too, but she'd certainly never been ogled like that. Not by all the men in the room. Including Arthur.

Arthur stared at her with an intensity she'd never seen on him before. It was like he saw her in a completely different light like she was a stranger. A queen from across the seas, or an enchanting nymph. Pure Beauty. She wore no makeup unlike Morgana, and he could see plainly that she wanted nothing more than to be in trousers and a tunic. Even though she looked so different, Arthur could see the true Ayser, and that brought the biggest of smiles to his face. Half out of his mind, Arthur walked across the room towards her and Morgana.

It was like he was under a spell. Her spell.

Whiskey brown eyes met icy blue, and he melted a little inside.

And then not only did he melt but he was on fire.

Arthur clenched his jaw tightly as Ayser was whisked away by Prince Selver, who looked absolutely enchanted with her. She, on the other hand, looked less than pleased to see him. Sparing one last glance at Arthur, who she wished to apologize to, Ayser disappeared back into the crowd, losing sight of him. Arthur sighed and instead turned to strike up a conversation with Morgana, who had an expectant look on her face like she was waiting for him.

Prince Selver chewed off Ayser's ear for most of the night, the girl only giving short replies. He mostly talked about his palace, and what he'd give to his future wife. He claimed she'd be the happiest woman in all of the land, and would never complain. Ayser prayed for the poor woman who would be wed to him. And she'd rather die than have Uther marry her off to the Prince of Nemeth.

It was only when the feast was to be served, that Ayser had some reprieve. King Uther, Prince Arthur, the visiting Prince Selver, and the Ladies Morgana and Ayser, where sat apart from the rest at the back of the hall. Uther sat in the middle and to his left were his ward, Morgana, and the Prince Selver. To his right, his son, Arthur, and his ward, Ayser. Ayser had been glad for the separation.

Arthur and Ayser had not talked since the incident in the Lower Town. Like the stubborn headed mules they were, neither wanted to be the first to apologize. So for a while, they said nothing. Morgana and Prince Selver got along just fine and were laughing nearly the entire time. Ayser thought about pairing them off in hopes of saving herself. Smirking to herself, Ayser looked away from the pair, and by habit turned to say a snarky comment to Arthur.

Warm whiskey met cool ice again, and the words caught in her throat.

Ayser at that moment decided she didn't like being at odds with Arthur, the boy she'd grown up with. They were better off together anyway. Arthur and Ayseranwinn were one and the same.

"Arthur, I-"

"Winn-"

Both began to speak in hushed tones, separating themselves from the crowds of people around them. Ayser bit her lip as Arthur smiled, both sighing and the tenseness in his shoulders fading away. Truthfully, he'd been afraid of speaking to Ayser again, knowing he was terribly wrong in the things he said. Arthur wouldn't wish Ayser to be anyone but herself. And he knew that she always was compared to Morgana. They were completely different women, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Arthur would never admit it, but Ayser had always been his favorite. Ayser knew she was in the wrong questioning Arthur's honor. He was a Knight before a Prince, she knew that, and knew Arthur was nothing if not honorable. Well, most of the time.

Staring into each other's eyes, it was like they didn't have to say anything. Arthur knew Ayser didn't really think those things about him, and Ayser understood the same. Their conversation, however short it may have been, was cut off as Uther rose, his goblet of wine with him. As if on reflex, everyone else stood patiently awaiting the King's words.

"We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora."

The guests all sat, Ayser's hand brushing Arthur's as they sat side by side, a ghost of a smile on each of their lips. Lady Helen's voice was beautiful like God had sent down an Angel from above to bless their ears. Ayser had never heard anything so… enchanting. Soon enough, the smooth tones of Lady Helen's voice were making her yawn, Ayser secretly punching herself in the leg to keep from sleeping. Even she could know that falling asleep during someone's performance was not polite at all. But the more she fought against the sleep, the more tired she grew, and Ayser didn't understand what had gotten into her until her head rested on Arthur's shoulder and the world went black.

Light faded back in, Ayser blinking back the sleep she'd fallen into. Looking around confused, her eyes widened at the sight before her. Cobwebs covered the great hall and in the center of it all, an old woman and a fallen chandelier. She must have missed out on a lot during her little nap. Everyone stood in confusion as they shrugged cobwebs off. Arthur helped Ayser pull the silky material from her hair, bodies close, eyes looking to each other. Neither of the two noticed when the old woman pushed herself off the ground and hurled the dagger at Arthur with all her might.

"Lookout!" Came Morgana's screech of fear, and by the time they turned their heads, Ayser thought one of them was a goner for sure. She can't explain how, but suddenly, she and Arthur were pulled to the ground by Merlin, so fast it was almost inhuman. Ayser was impressed, Merlin must have reflexes like a cat.

Ayser nodded to Merlin in thanks, catching her breath from the rush and fear just moments before. Arthur helped her stand up, and the pair watched as Uther grabbed Merlin's shoulder. "You have saved my boy and my ward's lives. A debt must be repaid."

"Oh, well…" Merlin tried to play off as humble, but inside, he couldn't wait for the riches that awaited him.

"Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded."

"No, honestly, you don't have to, Your Highness." Ayser wondered if he'd throw in an 'it was my duty' like anyone else would've but from what she'd heard from Gwen, Merlin would never spout such crap.

"No, absolutely. This merits something quite special. You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household…" Everyone gasped in delight, causing Ayser to roll her eyes. Patiently awaiting the title Merlin would receive, it was anything but what Ayser expected. Or Arthur for that matter. "You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant."


Ayser and Arthur stood in the dimly lit hall, the flickering candles casting orange shadows on their faces. There wasn't much to be said, the night having already shocked the words out of them. Thomas Collins' mother attempted to kill Arthur and had nearly been successful. There was no love like a mother's love, and while Ayser would have her killed for trying to kill Arthur, she understood the pain that drove her to it. A son for a son. Somehow, Ayser found it hard to believe that it was all over. That everything was going to go back to before. That everything was 'okay'.

Brunilda peeked through the tiny crack in her lady's door, waiting to prepare Ayser for bed. And also snooping in on the Prince and her Lady. Fed up with the fact that they were doing nothing but staring at each other's faces, studying the expressions of shock and relief alike, Brunilda gently opened the door more. "My Lady, it is getting late. Would you like to prepare for bed?"

Ayser craned her head back to spare a glance at Brunilda, who tapped her foot on the ground impatiently. With a small smile, she nodded her head. "I'll be just one minute." Ayser, no matter how much of a hard time she gave her, truly did care for Brunilda. The sooner she went to bed, the sooner Brunilda could go home and sleep as well. Brunilda took the answer, and closed the door slightly, still eavesdropping on the other side.

"Well, goodnight then, My Lady."

Arthur had a crooked smile on his face and only widened as she curtseyed to him. "And you, Sire." Ayser gazed into his ice blue eyes once more before turning to grab the handle of her door. "Arthur…"

The Crown Prince paused mid-step, looking back to Ayser, who called over her shoulder, "Do you really wish I was more like Morgana?"

Arthur gaped, seeing a vulnerable side of Ayser that he'd only seen a few times before. He thought about it. Morgana was surely easier to deal with. And she did behave like a proper lady should. Morgana was everything Ayser wasn't. And yet, Arthur wouldn't trade her for the finest princesses in the land. He would do anything for her, and she the same for him. They'd grown up the best of friends, mastered sword fighting together, and shared their deepest secrets and fears. Truthfully, he didn't know what he'd do without her by his side. He didn't know how he'd be able to give her up to another Prince or Duke. Somehow, when Arthur imagined being King, he'd imagined someone like Ayser to be there to smack him upside the head when no one else would. The thought of her leaving scared him more than he could care to admit. And the thought of having two Morganas even scarier. "Not on my life."