Chapter 10: The Arrival

Merlin found Gwen in the castle's laundry room. A few other female servants were busy cleaning household linen, sweating in the heat and the steam, while Gwen was conscientiously folding a pile of white-clean sheets a few yards away.

"Do you need any help?" he offered.

"Don't you have chores of your own?"

"I'm done with them. And I haven't seen you in a while, I thought we could use a talk."

She shrugged. "As you wish."

"So, how are you doing, these days?" Merlin asked while picking up a sheet in the pile.

She sighed. "Why do you keep asking me this, lately? I'm fine."

Merlin decided to jump directly to the sensitive subject. "The Saxon delegation arrives later today."

"Yes, I heard. Arrangements have been made for diner, so I guessed they were expected some time this afternoon..." She paused, thoughtful. "The girls in the kitchens, they keep giggling about it," she finally said with irritation, obviously condemning this behaviour.

"About diner?"

"No, about the betrothal," Gwen rectified.

"Why?"

"Well, you know. It's a royal wedding," she explained with a shrug. "There's going to be a celebration, and food, and music, and prestigious guests... Everyone will get to dress up... They're enthusiastic, it's been a while since we had one of these. My father once told me about Uther's wedding with Igraine, apparently it was very joyful and quite memorable."

They kept working in silence, piling up the folded sheets.

"What do you think she will be like?" Merlin finally asked, knowing she would understand he was talking about Arthur's future bride. He wondered if such a direct approach was the right way to go.

"I don't know, and I honestly don't care," she replied sharply.

"Wouldn't you prefer to see Arthur betrothed to a hideous shrew?" he asked jokingly.

"No, I wish him the best," she assured.

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Although I wouldn't mind a boil or two," Gwen admitted.

She looked back at him, smiling, and they both burst out laughing.

Gwen's smile vanished slowly. "A one-to-one diner has been planned tonight for Arthur and Princess Angharad. To get to know each other better, I guess. I was supposed to be one of the girls waiting on them, but I asked to be replaced."

Merlin nodded with understanding. "Don't work yourself up about all of this. Keep in mind that it wasn't easy for Arthur to make that decision."

Gwen looked up at him brusquely.

"What?" he queried.

"Nothing, I just... I always assumed Uther had made that decision for him."

Was that bitterness in her voice?

The sound of a horn echoed from somewhere above, in the upper floors of the castle.

"Oh. This means the delegation has been spotted, they will be at the gates soon," Merlin explained. "I should go, I'm supposed to welcome them, take care of their horses..."

"Show them around, give them a tour of the castle, offer them to sit on the King's throne," Gwen added playfully.

Merlin smiled. "Exactly. Standard squire duty," he joked. "I'll see you later. Take care," he concluded, and left hurriedly.

When he arrived in the castle's courtyard, Arthur, his father and several knights were already there, along with King Colgrin and a few of his men. A couple of minutes after Merlin had joined the group, eight riders passed the gates, among which, unmistakable, was Princess Angharad.

Gwen was going to be disappointed. She was pretty. She had the same dark hair and eyes as her father, but with features almost as delicate as Morgana's.

King Colgrin helped her down her horse, while two other women dismounted, probably her maids.

"It is my pleasure to introduce my daughter, Princess Angharad, to you, King Uther, and to you, Prince Arthur," Colgrin declared very ceremoniously while his daughter bowed respectfully.

Angharad was clearly very nervous. She barely looked at her hosts in the eyes. During the entire introductions, she only uttered a few basic greetings.

"This young man," King Colgrin continued, indicating one of the male riders sporting Saxon colours while he dismounted as well, "is Peredur, one of the finest blades of his generation, if I may say so. He will be in charge of the Princess' security at all times."

"I believe Camelot's knights are fully qualified to ensure her safety," Uther contested.

"I have no doubt about it," Colgrin retorted, "but I will be more at ease knowing my daughter is looked after by someone I already know and trust."

Merlin guessed from Uther's upset look that this lack of confidence could be considered as an affront, but no one said anything.

He and two other servants saw themselves entrusted with the Saxon horses.

Arthur was sitting in front of Angharad on the other side of the diner table, an empty plate in front of him. She didn't seem at ease with the whole situation, or even with him. She systematically averted her eyes as soon as their gazes met.

As for Peredur, Angharad's personal bodyguard, he never left her side since their arrival. When he wasn't keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the maids, or checking the trays of food they carried, he stood immobile two steps behind the Princess. Arthur was under the impression the Saxon kept observing him with defiance, even though nothing on his face betrayed his thoughts. He was incredibly stoic.

Well. This diner was meant for him and Angharad to get to know one another, wasn't it? "So, how was your trip?" Arthur inquired out of the blue.

"Long, and tiring," Angharad answered simply.

They both fell silent, looking down to their plates.

"Do you have any... centres of interest?" Arthur asked after a while.

She hesitated for a few seconds. "I enjoy embroidery, dancing, and poetry..."

There was another uncomfortable lull after her answer.

"What about you?" she finally asked back.

"Oh, er... Hunting, sword practice, jousting..."

Another awkward silence settled while a maid brought the next course. Naturally, Peredur stopped her before she reached the table in order to examine the tray.

This was going to be a long evening...

During the next half hour, Arthur occasionally tried to sustain the conversation by asking some questions, but Angharad always gave short answers and didn't seem intent on making much efforts on her side. The silences that usually followed each sentence were so heavy he could hear himself chew. And he had never noticed those intricate patterns woven into the curtains, or the carvings in the table's legs...

When Arthur extended his hand towards a breadbasket on the other side of the table, admittedly a little energetically, he was surprised to see his wrist caught in mid-air by Peredur, quicker than lightning.

Arthur observed the way his own arm seemed to be aiming at Angharad, and glared at Peredur. "I think we can safely assume I do not intend to make an attempt on Princess Angharad's life using this piece of bread," he stated with irritation.

Peredur looked down to the piece of bread, then back to Arthur, before he reluctantly released his grip. He didn't apologise for his mistake or for his unsuitable gesture. Instead, he just moved back to his initial position in silence.

If until now Arthur had been willing to tolerate that man's smothering presence out of respect for a father's fears for his daughter's safety, this was going too far.

"Peredur, I think we can dispense with your services for tonight," he stated.

"My orders are very clear, I am to remain with the Princess."

"Well, I'm sure those orders can be adapted, since the Princess is clearly in no danger," Arthur assured.

"I'm afraid I take my orders from my King only," Peredur retorted coldly before adding a rather insolent sounding "my Lord".

Arthur didn't know whether he should be impressed or irritated by this boldness. It took either a lot of heart or a complete lack of wisdom to overstep one's rank repeatedly like this. But Peredur seemed absolutely aware of what he was doing... In any case, it was very clear why Colgrin trusted him so much. If he was as good with a sword as he was loyal to his King, he must be a redoubtable soldier.

The tension was so high it compelled Angharad to speak up. For the first time, Arthur heard the sound of her voice for more than a few syllables.

"Peredur, I believe you should leave us alone."

"My Lady," he contested, "your father ordered that I -"

"I will be fine," she insisted softly but firmly.

Arthur could read the internal debate in the Saxon's eyes as he looked at Angharad.

"Very well," Peredur eventually muttered with resignation. "I will be right outside."

Arthur watched him walk out of the room. Interesting. He wouldn't listen to him but he obeyed her.

Once he was gone, the atmosphere relaxed at last. Arthur and Angharad smiled weakly at each other.

"Is he always like this?" he asked.

Angharad shrugged. "He takes his responsibilities to heart."

They resumed eating peacefully, falling back into silence again.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm no good company, today," Angharad suddenly apologised after a while.

Arthur shrugged it off. "Don't worry, I can't say I am either," he admitted. He paused, trying to think of something else to say. "Your father might have mentioned it already, but the betrothal reception will be held in a few days," he finally informed her.

"I can't wait, I'm sure it's going to be marvellous," she answered, forcing a smile.

Well, judging from her enthusiasm, it seemed they had at least one thing in common, after all...

The meal finished in almost complete silence. They exchanged a few more words, but never quite managed to fully break the ice. Once they were done, Arthur escorted her back to her chambers, followed very closely by Peredur. When she was safely inside, the Saxon stood at attention in front of the door, apparently planning to keep watch all night.

"Do you ever sleep?" Arthur questioned.

Peredur remained mute, but stared back at him with what Arthur interpreted as a hint of disrespect in his eyes. He fought to keep it to himself; it would be a very ill-chosen time to provoke a diplomatic incident. But as far as he could tell, Peredur strongly disliked him. And as far as he could tell, it was reciprocal.

As soon as he had turned a corner, Arthur let go a long and tired sigh. This was arguably one of the most tedious diner he'd ever had the displeasure to take part in. He really needed to have a normal conversation with another human being before he turned mad.

Somehow, a few minutes later, he found himself knocking at Gwen's door in the dark, probably guided by his unconscious. She didn't manage to hide her surprise at seeing him when she opened.

"What are you doing here? It's very late," she pointed out.

"Can I get in?"

She gave a quick look down the empty streets. "I don't think it would be a good idea."

"It will only take a few minutes," he insisted.

She sighed. "You're getting married in a couple of weeks, don't you think this would be slightly inappropriate?"

"I just want to talk, I had a really bad day."

"Well we all have bad days every once in a while," she answered coldly. "Good night, Sire."

After those last words, she slammed the door in his face.

Coming next: Chapter 11 "The Betrothal Reception"