Arthur paused in the doorway, half amused and half horrified that Merlin was still attempting to clean up with his arm in a sling. The shattered remains of a ceramic dish were scattered around the floor, probably what should have been the prince's dinner. "What are you doing?"
Frustration and alarm was written all over Merlin's face, and he seemed unable to offer more than a weak stutter in response. The past week had been hard on him. Arthur's disdain softened and he pointed toward the bed as he made his way around the table. "Sit. Let me do that."