Chapter 1 [Day After "Another Sorrow"]

Routine reset itself across Camelot and its citadel. Traders set up in their shops and booths on the Lover Town's square. Sparks and hammers' impacts rang out from the forges. Farmers carried grain over the lowered drawbridge. Meantime, the knights resumed their normal training activities. Arthur and Gwen met with the ministers. The Nemethian guests rested in their chambers.

But for a certain servant, it was anything but normal….

[Guest Wing]

Merlin carried a covered tray and two plates in his hands down the passage. To the other servants and passersby, nothing seemed out of place. His gait remained even. He remained erect. His cause allowed him to weave through the bustling main sections and less busy secondary sections alike. Everything was as it always was…

…or so it seemed….

He sucked in composing breaths. Pain numbing spells buoyed him. Rosemary, lavender and gingko biloba eased Pain's assault on his head. Gaius' healing effort at the camp saved his life. Adrenaline pressed him against Morgana, Odin and their forces. Still, after two or three days of such treatments, their effect ebbed. The required effort counteracted the treatments. He wavered on his feet.

Spots floated in front of his eyes.

Why now? Merlin bit his lip. He'd used the last lavender that morning. Worse still, Arthur had sent Gaius to Tintagel to assist with a plague outbreak. He'd worked two long days with little sleep. He scrubbed the floors. He laundered Arthur's robes before the next day's farewell banquet for King Rodor and Princess Mithian. He'd tended a few training accidents among the knights. And that was before Ague confined Matilda to bed.

Of course, Arthur assigned Merlin to see to the guests as well.

Merlin felt the platters' weight in his hands. Most nobles might merit a couple of slices of ham, maybe a piece of cheese with some fruit on each plate. Friendship however prompted an extra flourish. A spell placed roasted fowl and potatoes under the cover. His arms sagged. Still compulsion drove him onward.

Given the guests' recent ordeals, he would not disappoint them.

Whoever would've thought that I'd care like this about Princess Mithian or her father? Not when we first met! He snorted to himself at that thought. Memoria reminded him of arguments and Arthur's threats of exile for his stands on Gwen's behalf. He tried to keep the mask up. He went about his business and served Arthur and Mithian as best he could. Still, Resentment burned in his heart.

Arthur missed it…

Mithian however didn't. She confronted him in the passage. Her observation stung at him. "Not a fan of hunting? Or of me I suppose?" Unlike most…scratch that…all other nobles…she begged for his help and friendship. Then she stood up for him at the morning picnic. Upon meeting Gwen on an earlier occasion, she actually forgave him for his behavior.

And then, in her darkest hour under Hilda…Morgana's thumb, Mithian trusted him. Her eyes implored his for help. She left the warning. Remorse had ripped at her over his current injury.

She cared…she actually cared about his welfare….

Bollocks! She's a Princess. You're a bloody servant. You're lucky to be her friend! Merlin rubbed his forehead. I can give this to them. Then I'll bow and leave. He frowned. His toes somehow remained straight. He drifted toward the chamber in question.

By the door in question, Sir Reginald stood guard. His red sur coat draped over his polished chain mail. "Merlin? Isn't Matilda looking in on them?"

Merlin frowned. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "She has the ague. With Gaius gone, I had to tell her to stay in bed. I have dinner for King Rodor and Princess Mithian." He braced himself against the wall.

Reginald looked him over. "Are you all right?" He'd heard about Merlin's head injury. Personally, as much as they would never say anything, the knights knew Merlin was worse off than he'd let on. "I can take that in. You should get to bed."

"I cannot. Thanks. Can you let them know?" Merlin requested.

Doubt narrowed his eyes and tightened his mouth into a frown. "Fine." He knocked on the door and waited.

"Aye?" A male voice answered through the door.

"King Rodor, Merlin has brought dinner for the Princess and you. I am letting him in." Reginald glanced toward Merlin.

"Merlin? Curious." Rodor opened the door. He beheld the servant standing before him with the platters and cover over them. "Good evening, Merlin. Where is Matilda?"

"Your Majesty." Merlin bowed. Even so, his knees buckled ever so slightly. He managed to straighten his legs in time. "Matilda has the ague. As Acting Court Physician, I had to order her to bed. I could not leave the Princess or you without your dinner."

Rodor nodded. "A servant, a warrior and now a physician. Is there no end to your talents?"

"I serve King Arthur and Queen Guinevere as best I can, King Rodor. Besides, I wish to make sure your needs are met as well." Merlin sucked in a deep breath.

"Please come in." Rodor exchanged looks with Reginald. "Thank you, Sir Reginald."

"As Merlin said, Your Majesty, it is our pleasure to serve." Reginald bowed to the royal visitor.

Merlin trudged into the chamber. Effort increased with each footfall. Stamina decreased.

How long would he last?