Chapter 15 [Mithian's Chamber—A Half of an Hourglass Turn Earlier]
Mithian looked at Mirror's reflection. Adventure had mussed her hair. Consideration frowned on the riding outfit for Boeve's table at least. Father and Kay would definitely not approve! Still Necessity demanded some attire at dinner.
Propriety and all of that….
Best to be decent and represent Nemeth than to be rude to Count Boeve. She drank a mouthful of water. The past month's events had turned everything on its ear. Illness weakened and then killed Rodor. Kay turned tradition on its head. Unlike their predecessors, he took the throne immediately rather than wait the proscribed mourning period. Then he forbade her from the Council. He thrust the prospective marriage to Arthur on her without warning or input.
Service demanded Sacrifice. She understood that well enough. She enjoyed handing bread out to the poor. With Rodor's blessing, she left a few coins every month in a peasant's hands. Hunt's extra prey meant meat for the subjects.
Kay, on the other hand, served outside of the realm. Diplomacy and Martial Aims demanded his attention. His Council meetings remained short if the members met at all. He'd discontinued the hearings on the subjects' behalf. Taxes went up. He enforced Uther's laws.
Kay, what are you doing? Why will you not see? It's not about us! We serve Nemeth! We cannot just give in to whims of fancy. We….
She stopped her mental rant short. Realization dawned on her. Her own heart yanked her in other directions. Despite Duty's premise, Sympathy and Pity empathized with Gwen. Guilt stabbed at her for coming between Gwen and Arthur. Perhaps it might not have made a difference just a day earlier. Now however, Circumstance had changed….
…now Merlin made her question Duty….
She rolled her eyes. "What is it about him?" She frowned. She could see he was far less muscular than a knight. He took too many chances. Irreverence and Self-Denial dominated his attitude. He was way too rash. And in terms of being intimidating, Merlin rewrote the tome on that one. A sorcerer? A dragon lord? A warrior who survived without armor? The son of a Nemeth knight? And the four life debts?
Her necklace sparkled in the candlelight. Glint reminded her of the newcomer and his feats.
Her heart skipped a beat. Giddiness lightened her head and muddled her thinking. Dreaminess evoked a warm smile. Her eyes sparkled. A heartfelt sigh escaped her lips.
Britomart slipped back into the chamber. Over her arm, she bore a borrowed emerald dress. She watched Mithian studying Mirror's reflection in turn. The aforementioned sigh grabbed her attention. She raised an eyebrow. She knew her mistress had obeyed Rodor and courted Princes. Lack of Interest had forced Mithian into a dutiful yet almost detached mood. When she tried to share interests, the prospective partners never reciprocated. She also recalled the liaisons ending badly. Then she'd accompany Mithian into the woods for a hunt. Attempts for kingdom and Duty deserved better for her mistress and friend….
…but Britomart never saw Mithian so taken by anyone…not like this…not ever….
Merlin did not cast a love spell. Milady talked to Guinevere. Still that was after what happened in the clearing. Britomart shook her head. If only His Majesty had not committed her to Arthur Pendragon. The lout wants Guinevere. Milady likes Merlin. What a mess! She cleared her throat.
Mithian jumped. She turned to find Britomart standing there. "Oh! Britomart! How long have you been standing there?"
"A few heartbeats." Britomart arched an eyebrow. "Something vexes you, Milady?" She curtseyed.
"Vexes me?" Mithian snorted. She knew Britomart could be too insightful at times for her own good. She applied the Mask of State. A glance over her shoulder saw the dress. "Did Princess Jasmine have something?"
"Aye, Milady. She offered this gown. The Princess said it was the very one Count Boeve saw her in." Britomart coughed. She laid the gown on the bed.
"Truly so?" Intrigue pulled her over toward the garment in question. "Why would she lend this out then?" She admired the gown's sheer fabric, gilt neckline and sleeves. "Father could never afford a dress such as this!"
"Perhaps she wishes to offer you an opportunity? One never knows who will be at dinner?" Britomart smirked. She added an exaggerated shrug.
"Britomart, my course has been set. Prince Arthur and I are to marry for our kingdoms." Mithian carried the dress over to the changing screen.
"Did I say anything different, Milady? I only suggested that someone might be at dinner. Did I say anything else?" Britomart stiffened.
"I know you too well." Mithian changed from her riding clothes. She pulled on her shift. Over that went the borrowed gown. She arranged her mother's necklace to align with everything. "Can you fasten this in the back?"
"Certainly." Britomart walked over to Mithian's side. Awe stopped her in her tracks. "Milady, the dress suits you!"
"You think it does?" Mithian rubbed her chin and bit her lip. "I can imagine how it must make me look like a spoiled…"
"Milady, you look splendid!" Britomart secured the dress along her back. Despite Admiration tugging at her heart and tone, she modulated her voice. "Come back to the mirror and see!"
Mithian nodded. "I am sure I will not look like Princess Jasmine does. I…." She marched over to the mirror. Surprise widened her eyes….
…instead of the gruff rider or castoff Princess in Petticoats from the Third Rate Kingdom, Divine Beauty stunned her….
"I think the gown suits you as well, Milady." Britomart held up her hairbrush. "Let me brush your hair out, Princess. We do want to look our best."
Mithian narrowed her eyes. "It's a dinner, Britomart. No more, no less."
"Again, Milady, I never said any differently. I do my duty. You will be well groomed. Who am I to say that you will not turn heads? You are my mistress. Can I not want that for Nemeth and you?" Britomart brushed Mithian's hair. Bristles eased Snarls out of the Princess' hair. After a few dozen strokes, she stepped back. "There!"
"I look nice. Thank you, Britomart." Mithian downplayed her own surprise and shock. She'd rather be in a council meeting or a hunt or frankly anywhere but this dinner for some reason.
"Just nice? Maybe you might ask for a second opinion?" Britomart fought back the urge to roll her own eyes at that assessment. "Perhaps on the ramparts?"
"Ramparts? What?" Mithian frowned. "Britomart, you are so transparent."
"Am I? That's the place where Count Boeve and the men are. Perhaps they will respect you far more than your former suitors did, Milady. I want you to be respected. That is my fondest wish." Britomart set the brush down. She opened the door. "Does it hurt to walk by them and see their reaction?"
"I'm not like that." Mithian curled her lip. Vanity left a bad taste in her mouth.
"These men might be different. Besides Count Boeve already courts Princess Jasmine. One never knows." Britomart opened the door and curtseyed again. "After you."
"Thank you." Mithian nodded to her friend/chambermaid. She marched down the passage. At the end of it, she opened the door and walked out onto the ramparts.
The patrolling knights stopped. Each bowed in turn to her.
She nodded and thanked each one in turn. Then she looked around. "Count Boeve's not here."
The knights exchanged glances. "Nay, Princess. Count Boeve is downstairs. He oversees the preparations for the feast." The two knights bowed to her.
"Downstairs?" Mithian arched an eyebrow. She narrowed her eyes. "Britomart?"
"I thought he was up here." Britomart shrugged off the moment.
Mithian sighed. "I apologize for taking your time, Good Knights. I…." Apology stopped in mid-sentence. Her eyes spied Merlin and Gwen just ahead of them. Her ears picked up on Debate's jabs going back and forth between them.
"Gwen, she's going to marry Arthur. I'm just a servant…." Amor jabbed Merlin in the heart and brain.
Incredulity bulged eyes and slackened jaws. Knights shook their heads. Mithian stared.
Regret and Frustration punctuated Merlin's tone. Even as he pointed out class distinction, Feelings spewed from him loud and clear.
He has feelings for me? Mithian turned to Britomart. "You knew. Did you not?"
Britomart shook her head. "That Merlin was up here? Aye I did. Did I know he and Guinevere would be arguing like this? Nay I did not. Best you heard." A sly smirk spread across her face.
Mithian rolled her eyes. Now Heart and Mind staged their own internal tug of war. I have my duty! Uther and Kay would never release me! I have to marry Prince Arthur. I have no choice! Lament bowed her head.
Gwen sharpened the situation with her own response, "Merlin, You. Are. Noble. Arthur will respect that! I cannot believe you! You have a better case with that Princess than I do with Arthur!" She shook her head. "I do not want to hear nay for an answer!"
"She thinks I am rash and pushy." He fished for Excuse's way out. Denial dumped Rationale's avalanche on him.
The knights clapped their hands over their mouths. Maybe Arthur let Merlin get away with certain things. Still to talk about a foreign dignitary like that? Especially a future Princess of Camelot?
Ouch….
Britomart grimaced. He will pay for that. Merlin!
"I think what?" Crimson darkened Mithian's face. "I am concerned for him! And he talks with that?" She clenched his fists.She forced herself to listen further.
"You are…when you are helping everyone else." Gwen quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do not think, Merlin, I am going to let you off." She looked right into his eyes. "I do not believe it!" She snickered. "You like her!"
Merlin swallowed hard. "Gwen, stop! I just met her! Another pushy royal is the last thing I need!" Protest would've convinced most others.
"Pushy royal?" Mithian fumed. Indignation frothed akin to lava in a volcano. Disbelief numbed her. She could not believe her ears. How could I think he was so sensitive?
Gwen wasn't having any of it. She folded her arms across her chest. "Merlin, you are so full of manure. You know that? For all of your complaints, you actually like being bossed around by Arthur! You just said Princess Mithian respects you. And do not tell me you have nothing to offer her!" She slapped his arm.
"Hey! What was that for?" Merlin jumped back a half of a step.
"Stop being stubborn! Open your eyes!" Exasperation threw Gwen's hands up in the air. "I cannot believe you! You can help Arthur and me! And we can help you!"
"Uther would…" Merlin started.
"You are an exile. Uther cannot stop you. Arthur could try…but I will stop that. At least talk to her? She does seem nice." Gwen pressed the point further.
Merlin's eyes went every which way. He looked for a way out. He tried. He…
…Merlin saw Mithian watching them both from a distance….
Did she hear us? His hand went to his brow.
His pounding heart broke Denial's stranglehold. He felt his throat tightening up.
Now he knew what Deer felt like in Hunter's bow sight.
Merlin cleared his throat. "Um, Gwen."
"Merlin, I am not done. Enough excuses! Go and talk to her!" Gwen pressed on with her lecture.
"Look behind you." Merlin pointed over her right shoulder.
"What? I…." Gwen turned around to see Mithian waiting for her to finish her point. "Why did you not say she was standing there?"
"I…tried." Merlin facepalmed himself. He wanted the stones under his boots to swallow himself whole. His heart sunk.
Gwen shook her head. Skepticism raised an eyebrow. "One day I am going to find out how you can turn an argument around on the other person, Merlin." She motioned with her head toward Mithian. "She waiting. Don't worry about Arthur. Just think Princess." She smiled at him. Then she hustled toward Mithian. She curtseyed in front of the Princess. "Princess Mithian, I am sorry."
Mithian snorted. "Sorry? Gwen, you have done nothing to apologize for. Please rise. I appreciate you trying to talk to Merlin." Her eyes narrowed. You, on the other hand….
Merlin gulped. His throat tightened up.
"I hope I made some impression on him. I just want him to be happy. So…does Prince Arthur even if he would never admit it." Gwen glanced back at him. "May I ask a favor?"
"If I can grant it." Mithian raised an eyebrow.
"Whatever happens, just be patient with Merlin. Other than…well a certain someone…he's the best friend I have. I just…I know I'm speaking out of turn." Gwen bit her lip. Realization dawned on her.
"Oh."
"I am not like most Princesses or my brother for that matter, Gwen. I appreciate your candor and kindness. You could hate me because King Uther wants me to marry Arthur to keep him away from you. You are trying to be honest. Maybe you can understand that I do not want to hurt anyone. I want to be a friend and serve Nemeth. If I can serve Camelot too as a friend, I would welcome that." Mithian sucked in a deep breath. She wanted to raise this next point in private. Still she couldn't help herself. "We are both trapped, Gwen. We each love a man who thinks they are not allowed to love us. We love men who have to deny those feelings. We each have a King who would not allow us to be with them. I do remember Merlin from after the Battle of Shalott. Has he told you that my family owes him two life debts and his father, Balinor, two more life debts? And he does not want any reward. But because I expressed concern about him, Merlin calls me 'a pushy royal'? Does he do this to Prince Arthur?"
Britomart gasped. She did not just….! I cannot believe it! Milady, what are you doing? She knew Mithian could be rash. But to admit her feelings like that?
Gwen frowned. "Aye. They talk about each other in this manner." Sympathy cast a look back at Merlin.
"Gwen, I am right here." Mithian sharpened her tone.
"I apologize, Princess Mithian. Merlin was venting. His frustration got the better of him." Worry got the better of Gwen in that particular heartbeat. "He cares. He does not know what to do. He wants to serve. Now he is a knight and everything else. And then there are his feelings for all of us. Yet you are engaged to Prince Arthur. If I did not get him started, none of what you heard would have come from him." She took a deep breath. "I bear part of the blame, Milady. If you punish Merlin, I deserve it too."
Gwen's loyalty impressed Mithian. She nodded. "There is plenty of frustration for us all. Our hearts may want something. Unfortunately, Prince Arthur and I are bound by our kingdoms' agreement. Our marriage will form a bond between Camelot and Nemeth. Thank you for being Merlin's friend. Thank you for showing that loyalty. Your apology is satisfaction enough. Now, if you will excuse us, Merlin and I have to speak." She raised the eyebrow again.
Gwen understood Mithian's gist. "I know." She knew a peace offering when she saw it. Her ears had heard it loud and clear. Her defenses eased just a bit more. Much as with Arthur, Politics proved to be her adversary….
…much as she could see it was between a certain Princess and a certain ex-servant….
Mithian smiled. "If there is a way out for both of us, I would take it, Gwen. I assure you." Her eyes shot another glance at the now-waiting Merlin. "I suppose I should talk to him now?"
Gwen coughed. "That would be a good idea." Once again, she curtseyed. "Princess." Then she departed through the door.
Mithian took several deep breaths. She beat down Indignation within herself to a dull roar. Composure returned. She understood Merlin's intent. Still she didn't appreciate his outburst. "Merlin, come with me." Purpose blazed in her eyes. She pointed and then beckoned him closer with her fingers.
Merlin felt the knights' eyes avoiding him. Narrowed Eyes and Sharp Tone foretold Lecture's brewing storm.
Britomart held the door for Mithian and Merlin. Guilt needled her. I thought I was doing the right thing. Still, Merlin, why did you have to come out with that here? Milady, did you have to say what you did?
It seemed that loose lips could sink ships indeed….