Forbidden Love - Merlyn [2]

Chapter Fifty-Seven: A Purple Rose

Arthur had never felt so god damn awful in his life. To his horror he had remembered the last week of his life. His memory of the last week was clear and yet fuzzy all at the same time - as if he had seen the events unfold before him and yet had not been a part of them, had had no control over his actions nor his obscene feelings. Knowing that he had kissed another woman was heart wrenching in itself, and it was made worse by the fact he had flounced it in Merlyn's face. He was so confused as to why he would do such a thing. He loved Merlyn with everything he was and yet he had kissed another woman, had nearly taken Camelot to war because of it.

Vivian was beautiful but that beauty lay only skin deep. Yet over the past few days Arthur had been more than besotted up until the moment Merlyn had kissed him. Feeling her lips beneath his was like coming home, he cherished the feeling greatly. But why would he jeopardise having that? The thoughts plagued Arthur's mind and each time he thought about his actions he thought of Merlyn's actions.

The kings were to leave that day, Vivian too, but once they had left Arthur feared what Merlyn was going to do. Could she forgive him despite the fact he had done an unforgivable act? Was the kiss in the tent their final kiss? He deserved to live a life of misery having Merlyn so close yet unable to have her in any capacity for what he had done ... but he didn't want to. The mere thought of her leaving him made him nauseous. He didn't know what she was thinking and it terrified him. How could he have messed up so badly?

Arthur hadn't spoken to Merlyn since the fight had begun the previous night. After the fight it had been chaos, Arthur's wounds had been treated as had Olaf's before Uther had confirmed Olaf's willingness to sign the treaty. Once it had been given Uther had wasted no time and the signing ceremony took place mere hours after the fight with a magnificent feast to celebrate. The rushed process had left the servants racing off their feet, thankfully Vivian had been locked in her chambers as she wouldn't stop going after Arthur whilst Merlyn had been more of a ghost around the castle. Arthur kept catching glimpses of her before her long pony-tailed hair was swinging out of sight.

The morning had come around and she had still not appeared, Morris had helped him get ready that morning since Merlyn had been called in to help Gwen with the Lady Vivian who was apparently having a breakdown. Though Arthur had finally asked Morris to bring Merlyn to his chambers, he had to talk to her.

The prince was anxiously sitting on the end of his bed, a single rose from the castle's gardens twirling between his fingers. These roses were rare for they were purple - the colour of rarity, royalty, everything Merlyn was and could be in Arthur's eyes. He watched the royal petals turn in the sun, its beauty captivating, if his father found him having cut a purple rose he was sure he'd probably be told off for it as they were so treasured, which was worth it. He needed Merlyn ... but he feared he no longer had her.

Suddenly, the chamber door was opening and closing at the command of a familiar set of pale, surprisingly strong hands. Arthur felt his breath catch. Every speech he had had planned suddenly left his mind, left him blank. He had no idea what to say or do.

Arthur quickly got to his feet as his eyes took in his servant before him in her usual attire with her hair pulled back into a french plait that ran down her back. She stopped a metre or so in front of him her hands gently clasped in front of her. She didn't seem angry or upset but Arthur knew that what he said next could make or break him, them ... could change everything.

He had to get this right.

With trepidation Arthur stopped before Merlyn and held out the rose which he had carefully de-thorned. He didn't need to hurt her more than he already had. Merlyn gave her prince a soft smile as she gently took the flower's stem. Arthur watched as Merlyn lifted the rose to her nose and took in the sweet scent. Truth was Merlyn had never handled a rose before that was for her, nor had she ever seen the rare purple rose (she knew the Pendragons had them but she hadn't seen them) - they were not common in nature, few bloomed every year but Merlyn had heard of the rumour that the Pendragons did grow a few in their royal gardens. Merlyn couldn't stop the smile that graced her face, they were truly beautiful flowers.