The Fate Of A Nation
Chapter 3: A Feast
Morgana paced her chambers fitfully. She was dimly aware of Gwen voicing her concern, but dismissed her maid with a wave of her hand, asking for fresh water or some such thing. Chewing on her lower lip, Morgana came to an abrupt halt before the window that looked down into the castle courtyard. Though deserted, she could easily imagine another scene in its place. In the weeks leading up to the delegations arrival, it had become achingly clear that Arthur was resolved to do what was best for Albion. Though the Prince denied it, Morgana suspected that even if he despised Daimyo's Princess he would still agree to marry her – for the sake of his Kingdom.
Arthur's heart was ruled by Camelot, by the people he would one day govern. Raised as a member of the royal family, Morgana had come to believe that Arthur would see her as what was best for Camelot. But now, it seemed as though this would not be the case. Biting savagely on the inside of her cheek, Morgana willed away the tears that pricked her eyes. Crying would do no use. Tears would be no help against the woman who threatened to expel her from her own home. No, an entirely different tact would be needed if Morgana were to win this war.
Merlin knocked softly on the polished wooden doors, his other hand clutched tightly around the missive Arthur had given him. The Princess's quarters were on the far side of the castle – the warmer side – and in the middle of the suit of rooms given over to the delegation. Just as he thought of raising a hand to knock again, he heard the soft patter of feet against flagstones, and the heavy door crept open ever so slightly. A serving maid, obviously a native of Daimyo, poked her head out and gazed at him timidly.
"I have a message for the Princess from Prince Arthur." Merlin told her. The response was almost instantaneous. The made yanked the door open wider, falling to her knees in a bow as she did so. Merlin blinked stupidly in surprise. Was it usual in Daimyo for servants to bow to one another? Perhaps he should do the same?
A musical voice sounded from further within the chambers. "Ren who is it?" The young servant girl seemed too terrified to answer, so Merlin took it upon himself to respond.
"I bring a letter from Prince Arthur for the Princess Miyuki." He called, tongue fumbling slightly over the words. Arthur had given him a list of responses to several possible questions along with firm instructions not to deviate from script. Something about etiquette, but Merlin had not been paying much attention.
A rustle of silk, and a woman appeared from behind a half-drawn curtain. Merlin had a moment to think the Princess even more beautiful than when he had first seen her, before he hastily bowed. Straightening slightly, he extended the hand with the letter, repeating the words Arthur had taught him.
"Prince Arthur hopes that her highness would do him the honour of reading this letter, and of accompanying him to the feast this evening."
An elegant hand reached out and plucked the missive from Merlin's fingers. The warlock stood, snatching a glance at the Princess before averting his gaze. A sharp draft drew the attention of both Princess and manservant to the still open doorway where the maid was still kneeling.
A flurry of words was exchanged in a foreign tongue, before the maid hastily stood and closed the door, before once again kneeling beside it. Merlin glanced back at the Princess to see a slight frown marring her features.
"Tell your master that I am flattered by the attention he bestows upon me. I would be delighted to accompany him tonight." The words, like the face that spoke them, were devoid of all emotion. Merlin bowed once more and moved swiftly towards the door. As he left, he stole a glance at the serving maid. Her face was as unreadable as her mistress's.
Uther offered a polite smile as answer as he walked with Prince Katsurou towards the training grounds. The eldest son of an Empire, the Prince was not at all susceptible to the forms of intimidation Uther normally exerted upon visiting knights. Usually, the mere presence of Uther Pendragon – the recollections of the Great Purge, from those old enough to remember it – was enough to instil a sense of insignificance in any man. Not so the Prince of Daimyo. The young man spoke as though he already ruled the Empire, with a level of confidence and self-knowledge that Uther had not yet discovered in his own son. As the Prince asked a question as to the weaponry favoured by Camelot's knights, Uther made a note to be wary of this Prince.
A slight frown marring her features, Morgana examined herself in the mirror. The dress she had chosen for the banquet was one she had specially requested to have made. She had believed that it was a dress to make the heads of every man turn her way, but with the Daimyo Princess in attendance, she feared that would not be the case.
"My lady?"Gwen asked from behind her.
With a gasp, Morgana's eyes found Gwen's in the mirror. The serving maid was watching her mistress anxiously. Clearly this was not the first time she had tried to attract Morgana's attention.
Forcing a smile, Morgana turned from the mirror, and took a seat by the fire. "Gwen, could you braid my hair as you did the other day?" she asked, pleased that she had managed to force her voice to resemble its usual cadence.
The young woman nodded and smiled happily, swiftly crossing to aid her mistress, nimble fingers quickly taming raven tresses. Suppressing a sigh, Morgana spared a thought for what Arthur might be doing at this moment.
The Great Hall had never looked so splendid. Red and gold were hung from the rafters, glowing in the light of the candles. The wood of the floor and of the dais shone bright with polish and everywhere courtiers were decked in their finest.
The doors swung open, and as one the court fell into abeyance as the royal families of Albion and Daimyo entered. Merlin's lips twitched as he watched every female head in the room turn to follow Arthur's progress. The manservant took a moment to congratulate himself on having convinced Arthur to forgo this overly ornate tunic and cloak he had wanted to wear and instead choose the rich but understated outfit he was currently wearing. Compared to Uther's uncharacteristically elaborate garb, Arthur appeared effortless and at ease. He looked far more a king than his father in that instance.
Arthur looked so majestic in fact, that it took Merlin a moment to register the presence of his companions. Morgana was clothed in a gown that amply displayed creamy flesh without being too revealing – but next to the Princess of Daimyo, her dress seemed positively scandalous.
Merlin himself, had always quite enjoyed the sight of Morgana in her evening gowns, but the sight before him now was far more alluring, and as he watched Arthur sneak covert glances at his companion, he could not help but think the Prince thought the same way.
The Princess did not wear a gown as the ladies of Albion did, but rather what appeared to be several layers of robes – the outer one sleeveless and much shorter than the one beneath – crossed over the chest and waist and secured with a silk wrap between breast bone and hips. The neck was high and the sleeves almost ludicrously long, but Merlin found himself desperately trying to catch a glimpse of wrist or neck as she walked. There was something about the flash of pale-gold skin against aquamarine cloth that was completely mesmerising. The Prince he noted was wearing what appeared to be the male equivalent of the robes – complete with full legged britches and sandals. At his side hung a range of swords and from his belt hung a fan.
Merlin frowned, he thought only ladies carried fans – Princess Miyuki certainly had one – perhaps it was merely a convention of the east for both genders to carry them. As the royal party took their seats upon the dais, servants moved forward to place food before the guests.
"I wonder what they will think?" A voice whispered beside him. Turning, he saw Gwen hovering by his elbow, her arms wrapped tightly around a bowl of fruit.
"Think of what?" He heard himself ask in an equally low voice.
"The food." His friend replied, as though it were obvious. "I doubt the food served in Camelot is anything like that of Daimyo." She craned her neck to observe those seated on the dais. The Prince seemed content enough, happily engaging Morgana and Uther in conversation. The Princess on the other hand seemed a little unsure as to what to do. Merlin saw he wait until Arthur had begun to eat his own meal before mimicking his actions. Bite for bite she ate exactly as the Prince did. If Arthur noticed, he did not say anything.
Raising his head, he caught Merlin's eye and motioned for more wine to be brought to the table. He did so, filling the Princess's goblet before Arthur's, after the Prince subtly raised his glass, to take a sip, when Merlin would have served his master first. Silently grateful that Arthur had chosen not to scold him aloud, Merlin hastily retreated from the table after filling the remaining goblets. Uther paid him no mind, but both Morgana and the foreign Prince smiled their thanks – Katsurou even going so far as to murmur something in his own tongue which from his tone Arthur took to be the equivalent of 'thank-you'.
As he made his way back towards the kitchens, Merlin scanned the room for Gwen. He saw her on the far side of the room, in conversation with Gaius and he spared a thought as to what it was they could be discussing.
Gaius for his part did not miss the way his young ward sought out the handmaiden before he left the room and wondered if there was more behind the action than mere idle curiosity as to the location of a friend. As the young woman departed to attend to Morgana, the old physician contemplated the scene before him. The nobility of Camelot were mingled easily with those who of Daimyo who had accompanied the delegation and though conversation seemed a little stilted amongst some, the ex-sorcerer doubted if it was anything between the usual cultural differences. The scene of the dais however, was slightly different. Though laughter and good cheer may have flowed readily in the hall – it seemed entirely absent from the table that sat the five elite.
Morgana appeared anxious, and Gaius wondered if the poor woman was still suffering from disturbed nights. Beside her Uther and Katsurou were engaged in neutral conversation though both appeared as if they expected some trick from the other. On Uther's right side, however, the situation was almost comical. Though to most Gaius was sure it would seem as though the Prince were merely bored, to one who had known his so long, it was clear that the young man was incredibly nervous. Gaius admitted that the Princess of Daimyo did paint a rather extraordinary sight – with her face painted white and lips died blood red after the fashion of her people. It most likely did not help, he decided, that she too was clearly terrified.
At last, Uther waved his hand, signalling for the dishes to be cleared and the musicians to enter. They would play only; there would be no singing tonight. Uther had forbidden anyone to sing in his presence since the debacle with the sorceress impersonating Lady Helen. Many of the court mourned the loss but none dared say so to Uther.
A young man sat to play the harp, and Arthur noted with interest that the woman by his side leaned forward in anticipation. As the harpists fingers began to run over the strings, bringing forward a haunting Celtic melody, Miyuki's face melted into an expression of wonder. Though the white painted acted almost as a mask, Arthur could see her eyes sparkle and her lips curved in delight as she listened to the music.
Curious, he tilted his head to get a better look at the Princess by his side. His eyes ran from her hands resting neatly on the table top, to the gems glittering in her ears, to the elaborate style her hair had been pulled into. Apparently unaware of his scrutiny, she leant forward even further, allowing Arthur to peak down the back of her robe.
Not that he had been intending to do any such thing, it simply happened, but what he did see had him turning fully in his seat to stare. Arthur was well versed in all manner of weapons – having trained with most known in Camelot and extensively studied the rest. He was therefore convinced that the woman sitting beside him had a sword, or at the very least a dagger, strapped between her shoulder blades. He would recognise a hilt anywhere – even if it was not fashioned in a shape he was used to.
Feeling the weight of Arthur's gaze upon her, Princess Miyuki shifted her head ever so slightly. Her eye caught Arthur's and a single black brow arched delicately, as she relaxed back in her seat – the curiously wrapped hilt once again being hidden from view.
Curious, Merlin watched as Arthur and Miyuki stared at each other for a moment before the Princess once again turned her attention to the musicians. After the space of a heartbeat, Arthur did the same, and it was only then that the young Daimyo woman let her right hand fall beneath the table. Merlin frowned as he watched her lips move almost imperceptibly, realisation dawning as he saw a tiny ball of light slip from her lap and start to make its way along the dais. Every muscle in Merlin's body tensed. How could he have been so blind as to allow a sorceress so close to Arthur – and for an entire evening? Mentally berating himself, Merlin opened his mouth to shout a warning, only to bite harshly on his own tongue as the light travelled swiftly past both Uther and his son and wound its way up the leg of Prince Katsurou. The Prince did not once take his eyes from the entertainment but a slight frown marred his features as he reached a hand down to snuff out the light and Merlin could tell he was not pleased by his sister's actions. He wondered if the young woman were mad, to be performing magic so close to Uther – or if she had some other motive. Could it be she wished to be dismissed from Uther's court? Or for the negotiations to fail? For surely even Uther would not dare to execute Miyuki. Daimyo was not Mercia – a kingdom of equal size and similar strength army. Daimyo was an Empire.
As he looked upon Uther though, Merlin wondered if Camelot's king wouldn't risk his very kingdom, to stamp out magic from the realm.
A/N: Please review and let me know what you think. I know this chapter doesn't move contain as much action and intrigue as I said it would, but I didn't want to rush through. As always, thank you for reading.
