Behind the veil of the heart

"Excellent speech, sire," said Leon. I knew he was being sincere, that he wasn't trying to flatter me, so I thanked him just as sincerely. Leon gave a slight smile. He leaned towards me and said a bit more quietly:

"Really, one of your best. Who did you work on it with, if you don't mind me asking?"

"That person just left us a moment ago. I would have dismissed him long ago for drunkenness, but as you see, sometimes it comes in handy," I replied. My anger at Merlin was somewhat balanced by the awareness that the speech he wrote for me was undeniably good. It's just a shame that he got so drunk that shortly after I delivered it, he collapsed like a log in front of everyone present in the banquet hall.

"You must finally punish him properly if you don't intend to dismiss him," said my uncle. "An incident like the one just now cannot be repeated."

I nodded. He was right. I allowed Merlin pretty much everything, but everything also has its limits and so far Merlin had enough sense to know where they were. But he apparently forgot about that.

"Fifteen lashes should suffice." continued Agravaine.

Leon cut himself a piece of beef roast and gave me a quick, incredulous look. At that moment, Lancelot appeared. He had a sullen expression.

""Fifteen lashes? For whom?" he asked.

"For this good-for-nothing Arthur's servant," replied Agravaine in an indifferent tone. Lancelot raised his eyebrows. Cold sweat broke out on me, but fortunately Agravaine stood up from the table.

"Oh, excuse me for a moment," he murmured. "I promised Lord Greenford that we would exchange a few words."

"For what!" Lancelot looked at me with a fury that I would never have expected from him. "You can't be serious? If you do that to him, I swear, I'll leave and take him with me."

I lifted my hand to silence him. Anger was growing in me and it was of the particularly nasty kind, making one say things to people that one later regrets. There he was, the greatest of Merlin's friends. He will leave and take him with him. Far away from this vile, cruel Arthur, who, after all, cares for no one and loves no one. I had to bite my tongue not to ask if he would also take Guinevere just in case.

"I didn't say anything like that," I replied, quite calmly. "It's a misunderstanding."

"Lord Agravaine joked that anyone could be cured of drunkenness in this way," Leon said, so sincerely, so casually, that it frightened me. I was grateful to him for the help. Of course, I knew that my uncle wasn't joking, that he would give such an order without blinking an eye, but I hoped that over time he would understand who we are to each other, regardless of our origin, that he would become part of the round table.

Gwaine had just finished dancing with one of Lord Goldwin's daughters and returned to the table with a broad smile. A servant immediately poured him some wine.

"How much did he drink to knock him down like that?" he asked with a laugh, looking at Lancelot. "I have been celebrating since morning and you all saw that even my legs did not get tangled while dancing. The ladies are pleased with me."

Lancelot sighed and sat down.

"He didn't drink anything. He was working so that others could drink."

"Oh, come on, I don't believe that," replied Gwaine.

"So, what happened to him?" I asked, feeling something akin to anxiety. Lancelot's behavior was irritating, but it was clear that he was just worried.

"It's hard to say. Gaius claims it's nothing serious, but it looked bad."

Gwaine laughed, picking out the seeds from a baked apple and tossing them under the table..

"I'm telling you, he mixed alcohols," he said.

"What did you mean by saying it looked bad?" I asked. Lancelot shrugged.

"If you know someone well, you can tell they're not feeling good, even if they say otherwise," he replied.

I looked around the hall and, determining that the guests were sufficiently occupied with the entertainment that I could leave without arousing interest, I slowly stood up.

"If anyone asks, I'll be right back," I said to the knights and started towards the door. I could feel Lancelot's gaze on my back. It was heavy, it weighed me down.

When I saw Merlin sitting on a bench, wrapped in a blanket, I understood precisely why Lancelot was so concerned. Merlin was frighteningly pale and looked very scared. However, a profound sadness radiated from his eyes, as if something unimaginably bad had happened. This sight burned itself into my eyelids, making me realize with full force that there is something important I don't know. How many times did I think he was drunk, when something else was going on?

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, more harshly than I intended. However, I didn't want to let him know how pathetic he looked.

"Nothing. I'm sorry. I will come to work tomorrow." His voice was oddly flat, perfectly reflecting the expression in his eyes.

"Merlin," I said emphatically, trying to catch his gaze. Yes, Lancelot was damn right; Lancelot had perfectly identified that something was off.

"It's nothing serious, my lord," said Gaius. "We suspect he had a bad reaction to the headache elixir he took before the feast. Side effects sometimes occur."

Merlin nodded, and I knew, I just knew, that this was not true. Something twisted in my stomach. But fine. I have no grounds to question this, although the awareness that something is being hidden from me is painful.

"What does he need?" I addressed Gaius.

"Now, nothing more than a bit of rest."

"I'll order some food to be brought to you from the feast." I said.

"Thank you, my lord." Gaius smiled. He looked tired. Tired like someone who had just breathed a sigh of relief after experiencing several terrifying moments.

Merlin adjusted the blanket on his shoulders. He was clearly cold, even though the chamber was warm. I felt like sitting next to him and stay there for the rest of the night. It would annoy him and eventually he would tell me the truth, or at least start acting normally. But I had to go back to the feast.

"Take a rest, Merlin," I said. "And... if you wake me up in the morning, you'll end up in the stocks. I'm not going to get up early tomorrow."

"Okay," he mumbled. Just "Okay". He didn't even try to tease.

Before I left, I looked at him again. I wanted to say something, somehow give him encouragement, but as usual, I couldn't find the right words. The thought crossed my mind that Lancelot would have found it easily, that he knew perfectly well what had happened. Will I ever deserve this, or will Merlin slip away from me like everyone else?

In the corridor, I reached into my pocket and clenched my fingers around my mother's sigil.

"Please, keep them for me," I whispered silently. "Him and Gwen."

I struggled to admit it even to myself, but fear was gripping my throat. Suddenly, something brushed against my side, as if someone passed by and touched me with their shoulder. I looked around. There was no one in the corridor except me. Or was there? After all, it's Samhain night.

A/n

For the first time, I didn't translate, but wrote directly in English. I don't know if it turned out well. Please let me know if you liked it.