The future King of Camelot requires a Queen, and Uther Pendragon knows of only one woman who can stand as his son's equal, and she's closer than the blond Prince knows it, though the pair secretly fall for each other long before the news of their we...
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Princess Clarissa sits in her room, bored as she looks through the treaty that Lord Bayard and King Uther will sign in a few hours from now. Then, Lucy, her faithful maid, walks into the room with her dress for tonight, making sure that they are both ready for the welcoming of Lord Bayard and the feast. "You're not still reading that, are you?" Lucy asks her as she hangs the dresses up for them both to wear to the feast.
"I need to make sure that it's fair on both sides; we get something, they get something," Clarissa replies as she puts the piece of parchment down on her table in front of her.
"Well, they'll be here soon, so get yourself ready," Lucy tells her, and Clarissa sighs, getting up from her chair.
~ MYSTERIOUS ~
Nimueh in her cave below the Isle of the Blessed as she stands at her stone basin, she drops some of her blood into the water, reciting a spell; before dropping a single flower petal into the water, she disturbs the water, it shifting to see Merlin in the water, pulling out the petal and placid it on the side of a silver goblet. "Merlin," She mutters with venom, dripping from
~ MYSTERIOUS ~
Lord Bayard and his men arrive in Camelot and are escorted into the throne room where he meets Uther and his men; they all walk, meeting in the middle of the room. "Camelot welcomes you, Lord Bayard of Mercia. The treaty we sign today marks an end to war and a beginning to a new friendship between our people." Uther, the man, grasping arms, both parties applauding while Nimueh disguised as a simple maidservant watches Merlin with evil intent.
~ MYSTERIOUS ~
Merlin walks along the upper corridor, passing Gaius while carrying a heavy bag, helping prep for the feast tonight. "Why do I always get landed with the donkey work?" Merlin asks his guardian.
"You're a servant, Merlin. It's what you do," Gaius reminds him.
"My arms will be a foot longer by the time I get this lot inside," The Warlock argues.
"It's character building. As the old proverb says, hard work breeds...." He tries to think up something fast. "...a harder soul."
"There is no way that's a proverb," He argues lightly with a shake of his head. "You just made that up."
"No. I didn't," He denies as Nimueh walks over to them, her hands full of folded clothes to hide her agenda and to appear as if she belongs; she fakes a stumble, falling at Merlin's feet.
"Sorry," She fakes an apology.
"It's alright," He assures her as he looks down at her, watching her picks up her mess.
"Excuse me," She says softly as the Warlock and Gaius share a look.
"Let me give you a hand with that," He says and drops what's in his arms, crouching down, catching Nimueh's eye, helping her collect her things before they both stand to their feet. "Hi, I'm Merlin," He holds out his hand, she accepts, shaking hands.
