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Magic was a taboo word. It instilled shivers in almost ever person in the kingdom when spoken aloud. I had even heard a village woman scream and run off when it was mentioned in passing. I think the fear of the word was only increased by King Uther's constant wariness of it; he kept it in the public eye and therefore kept the terror there. Sometimes I wondered whether he just enjoyed scaring people, but that was highly unlikely.

I would class myself as a normal person – well excluding the fact I'm a girl pretending to be a boy – but for some reason, other than excitement, the word magic had no effect on me whatsoever. Gaius could've said tree for all it did to me. Still, what did surprise me was the carelessness in which Merlin seemed to regard it. I would've thought he would've had the same respect and secrecy about it as the physician seemed to have. However, he seemed totally at ease. I knew this because whilst I pretended to be unconscious they talked often – well Merlin talked often – about spells and some witch and a magic book. I couldn't help but feel completely enraptured by this world of wizards and warlocks and mythical creatures. It was so foreign and, well, magical.

Eventually, it was time for me to open my eyes and return to the land of the living, this obviously pleased Merlin as I was met with his grinning face as I finally came round. It was really quite scary actually, to wake up with someone staring at you – disconcerting you could say.

"Good day to you, Emery," he said immediately, "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," I replied, moistening my dry lips with my tongue.

"According to Arthur you fell down out of the hay loft, right in front of him," Merlin stated, his eyes searching mine for an explanation.

I wanted to draw back. He was very close and somehow very different to how I remembered him. More powerful. There was something in his sapphire eyes that betrayed his quirky, oddball nature, underlying the fact I had now discovered about him. He was a sorcerer. A strong one by the sounds of it, though inexperienced.

"Yup!" I struggled to sound more boyish, my voice was coming out way to high to pass for male. The change in pitch initiated a coughing fit in me and I shuddered, my eyes streaming.

"Whoa, are you all right?" Merlin looked concerned. I tried to maintain an aura of calmness and composure but unfortunately, by the look on the young man's face, it just made me look constipated. "I'll fetch Gaius. I'll be right back." With that he was gone, a tangle of limbs battling to stay upright as he hurried to the door.

"I'm fine," I croaked after him; but it was too late.

By the time Gaius had checked me over again and ordered that I stay with them for the night I was excruciatingly embarrassed and just wanted to find a hole somewhere to curl up and die in. The two of them watched me like a hawk which was extremely perturbing. I could barely eat with Gaius' eyes boring into every inch of me, scrutinising my actions.

"Emery," Gaius said suddenly, causing me to jump, "You must eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You are wasting away though," Merlin pointed out, grabbing my slim wrist and enclosing it entirely in his fist, "You're like a skeleton. No wonder your wrist snapped like a twig. Arthur's dogs are plumper than you." His touch was like a burn on my skin and I yanked it away, afraid he would notice the heat rising under his palm.

Now, you may be thinking, wow, this girl has issues with men, can she not even talk to one without fancying him? And to an extent you are completely right – hormones can run riot – however, my brush off of Merlin was for an entirely different reason. This being that it had literally burnt my arm, like a pan hot off the fire. I could still feel the searing pain on my skin after he had let go. Not only that but it had left an odd coloured mark, shaped like his fingers, on my wrist. The mark was a mixture of red and purple but not the shades you would associate with a burn or a bruise. These were primary colours, bright and vibrant.

Shocked and more than a little afraid I hid my arm under the table, sliding my sleeve down over the discolouration. Neither Merlin nor Gaius noticed, luckily. I concentrated on ignoring the sting for the rest of the meal.

Under candlelight, curled up on Merlin's bed, for he had insisted that 'the old man' as he named Gaius and 'the invalid' – my endearing nickname – had the beds, I inspected the damage. I could hear him snoring softly from the somewhat discomfort of an armchair.

The colour had not changed; the mark looked much the same as it had before, as if someone had painted a handprint onto my skin. The contrast between the cream of my arm and the redness of the blot somewhat emphasised the problem. I would not be able to hide it for long; but how to explain such a scar?

Thinking back to the moment Merlin touched me, I tried to remember exactly what had passed. He had touched me, it had hurt, and I had pulled away. But why would he hurt me? What had I ever done to him? And if so how had he done it with such feather light contact? Unless it was magic; the word was lurking in the back recesses of my mind taunting and cajoling me until I finally considered it. However, I hadn't heard him mutter any enchantments or spells. Maybe he'd done it silently, distracting me with irrelevant babble. But that brought me back to the initial question: why?

Then a thought struck me. What if he hadn't meant to do it? What if he had no idea of what he had done? It never happened when he touched anyone else (I'd seen him brush by Gwen enough times to know) so why me? The mystery reverberated round my skull, refusing to allow me sleep until I just gave up and tumbled out of bed. I decided to go on a midnight jaunt around the castle – not the brightest idea you might've guessed.

Outside the dark sky was littered with millions of stars, all shining brightly on the kingdom of Camelot. The moon was almost full and cast an eerie, bluish light on everything. This light was so illuminating it was like a different version of day, just spookier and quieter; without the busy hustle and bustle of daily life.

I made my way down the corridor, not really sure what I was doing or where I was going. Flickering torches created strange, creepy shadows on the walls, more than once scaring me with the sudden movement of a tree branch or an owl.

I decided that I would go to the battlements. That way I could see the entire kingdom stretched out before me like an artist's painting, still and unmoving but full of an unsettling realness. Clambering up the large stone steps inside the tower, I tread carefully in my bare feet, suddenly aware of just how cold the night was when I stepped out onto the walkway and a gust of wind whistled by.

The image was just as beautiful as I imagined, if not better, and I wished I could draw well so then I might have a chance of capturing such a spectacular picture.

"Planning on jumping?"

The sound of the voice almost gave me a heart attack and ironically I almost did lose my footing and plummet to what would most certainly have been my death. Luckily, I managed to remain upright, wind milling my arms and lurching back from my previously precarious position. Then I turned to face the speaker.

"You really do have a knack for getting into trouble don't you?" His blonde hair shimmered like a golden halo in the half-light and I caught my breath. The smile on his lips warmed my chilled bones.

"Well, not usually, sir, it just seems to happen when you are around."

"Ha," Arthur let out a soft bark of a laugh, his eyes sparkling. "I think your plight for mishaps is also aided by your ridiculously curious nature and blatant disregard for rules."

"You mean I'm not allowed to be up here?" I questioned, worried.

"Well, technically there are no rules about it, though I doubt my father thought a foolhardy servant boy would decide to make his way up here."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Oh, don't look so frightened, I'm not going to tell." The young Prince grinned at my shocked expression. "As I said before, I don't bite. I'm just interested in why you came up?"

I thought about it for a moment. Did I tell him the truth or just make some rubbish excuse up? I banked on the truth going down better.

"I wanted to see what Camelot looked like at night," I shrugged, "The battlements seemed like the best place so I snuck out of the physician's chambers and came up here."

"Right," Arthur nodded slowly though he didn't look like he believed me. I guess it wasn't the kind of thing he was used to a stable lad saying. I think he expected me to tell him I'd been looking for weapons that had been left up here by guards when they finished their duty or I'd been trying to peer into one of the Lady's bedrooms.

"What are you doing up here?" Arthur looked quite shocked at being addressed so directly by a mere servant and I regretted asking but he held his tongue.

"Thinking. Doing the same as you and looking at the kingdom."

"Are you scared?" I found myself asking.

"About what?" he immediately snapped, looking offended.

"About one day having to run this place? I mean, it's pretty huge and there are so many people and they all look to you to solve all their problems. Won't that be hard? How will you know how to make the right decisions?"

Arthur was silent for a long time. His brow furrowed in concentration. I was worried that I'd upset him and he'd shut himself off completely. After all, I was just a stable boy, why would he confide anything in me?

The wind whipped past viciously and I found myself shivering uncontrollably in my thin tunic and bare feet. I hadn't expected to spend quite so long out here in so little. I was so cold it hurt.

"I-I suppose I won't know exactly what is the right decision, I mean no one can, but I can try and do what is best for everyone; make everyone happy."

"I'm not sure whether you can always make everyone happy," I continued. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn't I shut up? "I mean, that is why it's hard. For example, if some woman came to you and asked you to give her son a job and then another came and asked you to give her son a job but you only had one job on offer; who would you choose?"

"That's easy, the woman who came first," Arthur stated immediately.

"Ah, but what if the first woman had already got a husband working for you whereas the second was a widow and had six children and no money? Then which would you choose?"

"Oh, I don't know, the second one then."

"But then you discover that the first one is dying and…."

"Okay, okay, I get the picture," Arthur looked disgruntled; "You are pretty well informed for a simple stable boy aren't you?"

"I guess."

"Well, I can't have you spouting confusing riddles like this – its hurting my head - so why don't you scuttle off to Merlin's lair and get some sleep?"

"All right, sir," I nodded reluctantly and shuffled towards the door.

"Oh, and Emery, if you ever come up here again, put some more clothes on!"

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