Chapter 44 [Later—Merlin's Bedchamber]

Merlin regarded the meadow and woods beyond Whitgate's eastern wall. Considerations took in the morning's twists and turns. Crown still sat heavily on his head. Plans for moving Gaius' library from Camelot to there were laid. The wedding would occur in a few more days. Everything seemed set.

Well almost everything….

Mithian's surprise prompted Inspiration's spark in his mind. Memoria recalled her earlier conversation with Britomart about dresses. Lament wished for something more. Reality reminded her of Nemeth's budget. Necessity demanded that the money go to the poor.

Schemes, however, brewed in Merlin's head. Malodius? Nimue?

Aye, my Prince? Malodius looked up from his place by the door. You were deep in thought. I did not wish to disturb you.

That is all right. I have an idea for the wedding. I am going to need some help. That's why I wanted Nimue's attention. Maybe Princess Josiane and Britomart can help too? Merlin rubbed his chin. He rushed over to the door. He looked both ways down the passage. Then, he spied the two women in question. He hustled toward them. "Sorry! I had to see you. Can you come back to my chamber?"

"You are the Crown Prince, Merlin. I believe we should listen," Josiane noted albeit with Mirth's touch to her tone. "You are most excited, my Friend. What is it?"

"My Prince? Is everything all right?" Britomart looked about the passage. She understood that the granite walls' in-bred ears and echoes carried Gossip's suppositions toward unwanted sources. Caution, therefore, remained very much in order. She led Josiane into Merlin's chamber.

Merlin nodded. "I was thinking about the wedding." He took a deep breath. "I want Princess Mithian to have the best day possible. I know that you are overseeing the decorations and the flowers. I remember Michael from my first year in Camelot. I am sure he will give us a great feast. What about her dress?"

"Her dress?" Josiane looked to Britomart. "King Rodor, I am sure, will have a nice dress for the Princess. This is not just her special day or yours, Prince Merlin. It is Nemeth's day. Britomart, you could say the same."

Britomart nodded. "The Princess has a dress ready for the event, my Prince." She bowed to him. "The King would want to approve any changes. Lord Blumenwald, with respect, would need to know what you would plan."

Merlin walked around the room. His mind weighed various options. Royal delegations' fashions and styles from across Europa and Roman Sea flashed through his mind. Pigments shaded flowing robes. Sleeves ran down to fitted wristlets. Sleek ribbons edged wrists and skirts' respective hems. Tiaras and Jewelry glinted in Sol and Torches' reflected light.

Mithian preferred Simplicity's way. Frugal yet Splendid provided a balance. Unlike her counterparts, Priority lay with Governance not Vanity. Aye, Hunt tempted her. Flowers and Gardens provided Respite. Secret Dream, however, pined for an elegant gown on par with those counterparts. She would never ask for it.

Merlin, on the other hand, wanted to give that to her. Frustration on his Princess' behalf tore at him. Magic could spell such a gown up. "I know. I want her to have the best. I want the best fabric. I mean…I know she is beautiful inside and out." He shook his head. "I remember this material. It was so light and smooth. Everyone just stopped. Prince Arthur wanted a dress like that for Lady Morgana. One of the servants told me the fabric came from far, far to the east."

Josiane nodded. Realization ascertained his meaning. "I know the material. I have not seen it in years. It is called silk." Mischief gleamed in her eye. "Perhaps we might accomplish two ends at once? I have something I want to accomplish. Perhaps you might come with me?"

"Something…?" Britomart winced. "My Prince, you need to travel tomorrow to your home village and Camelot with Milady and the King. They are counting on you!"

"We shall be back by then." Josiane noted Mists' wisps forming in the corner. Column formed into a doorway in front of her. "Merlin?"

"I hope that is our help." He braced himself. "Nimue?"

Nimue stepped out of the mists. Snark and sarcasm had absented themselves from her demeanor. Rather, she offered a nod. "Aye, Merlin. Impressive plan. The goddess informed me of it. You have found a mistress other than the Young Pendragon?" Sniff and smirk managed to make their appearance. "I would take you there. However, the Fire Hair raises a point. She knows you too well. We would not want you getting into trouble. Now would we?"

Merlin's eyes rolled. "I know where my obligations are, Nimue."

"Oh? That did not stop a servant from jumping onto the battlefield or trying to advise a Prince. One must take care with such things…or the people who try them." Nimue's smirk spread across her face.

Malodius growled. His eyes narrowed.

"I would be more careful especially in Constantinople or my native Alexandria, Priestess. Malodius would be watchful as well." Josiane stiffened. "Prince Merlin would not be by himself. I can assure you of that." Disdainful snort flared her nostrils. "I would not give those jackals, Alys or Mustafa, any satisfaction!"

"Aye." Nimue conceded the point. "The usurper sits on your father's throne still. The one who shares your blood, however, holds his place at last. Still, the goddess wishes to reward Mithian's humility and service." She turned toward the mists. Thessala? Do you have it?

Aye, Sister. A robed woman stepped into view from the column next. Silver wisps fell beyond the hood's obscuring cover. She carried a wrapped bundle in her hand. "Prince Merlin, I presume? Greetings!" She bowed to him. "Princess Josiane of Alexandria, I bid you greetings as well. Perhaps we can speak with your King?"

"The meeting should be over soon. Follow me." He motioned for them to follow him. "Malodius?"

The lion jumped to his paws. He marched out into the passage ahead of the others.

Merlin glanced at Thessala's wrapped package. Concerns and admitted fears unsettled him. Chills jabbed at his heart and spine. Faith urged him to trust in the goddess' judgment. Still, Rodor's reaction and Mithian's acceptance meant a great deal as well.

Surprises did have their reactions for good or ill after all….