Arthur was reading Merlin's newest, flawless speech. How Merlin knew exactly what a king should be saying was beyond him.
Turning the page, he noticed a red splodge of something wet. Blood? Strange. Merlin never cut himself. Oh. His blood. Gallons of it.
Merlin was proud of his speech. It was his favourite. He hoped Arthur liked it. He was walking through the corridor, when –
"MERLIN!"
He skidded into Arthur's room.
"Sire?" Arthur was holding Merlin's speech in disgust.
"This speech is terrible."
"What's wrong with it?" Arthur held up his thumb, his eyes tearing up.
"I got a papercut!"