Metanoia

"You Wouldn't Kill Me"

Arthur

"He's in an urgent need of a formal outfit for this evening's feast," Merlin told the tailor casually, leaning against the wall, gazing at the scenario taking place. A neighboring kingdom was nearing their arrival, and Merlin insisted that I had to dress properly.
"Is this necessary?" I questioned in reply to Merlin's demand, shifting awkwardly as the tailor brought several strips of cloth and measuring tools to me, testing each one intently. My eyes fled to Merlin in need of an answer.
Giving a smirk, he tried to play it off from a wipe to the lips from his sleeve. "Yes. You are not wearing...that," he gestured to my current clothing, "to the banquet tonight."
"These are from your wardrobe," I countered with a taunting grin.
"They may fit you, but they certainly don't suit your taste."
I rolled my eyes at his retort. "Just don't make it extremely fancy. No robes," I told the tailor with a pleading glance. He just nodded in reply, sauntering over to his desk for a quick moment to scribble down my words. My body stood completely still, attempting to wait in a patient manner as the tailor returned to his former position to continue with the measuring. The man was quiet—an awkward vibe almost given off of him. I just continued to look at Merlin, watching intently as he picked at his cuticules, eyebrows lacing every so often when a spike of pain flashed through the ripped skin.
"Any colors that appeal to the man?" the tailor suddenly asked Merlin with a raised brow.
A short silence followed. Biting his lip, Merlin's eye twitched before finally giving an answer. "Red."

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Twiddling my thumbs, my eyes danced about the room, body tense, foot anxiously tapping against the floor. The setup wasn't much different from Camelot. Many tables were pressed against eachother in an orderly fashion. Platters with an assortment of foods were delicately placed on them, ready to be served. Everything was in order. All that was missing was the King.
My ears suddenly twitched, detecting the sound of doors opening. What was soon revealed was beyond beautiful. Merlin was there, draped in the finest silks—multiple shades of sky and royal blue—a band of a crown resting on his raven curls. His outfit was elegant and complimented him perfectly. I wasn't the only one who seemed to be astonished by the sight; the whole room fell quiet upon his entrance, watching with silent eyes as Merlin strode towards his seat at the banquet table. Making eye contact with me, Merlin twitched a nervous smile, before sitting down beside me. Eyelashes fluttering rapidly, he tilted his head down, a blush pattering his cheeks lightly. I couldn't take my gaze off him. He was absolutely stunning.
"You clean up nicely," I managed to say in a cracked tone. My eyes scanned over the material Merlin had worn; then reaching up to find the golden ringlet on his head; eventually deciding to settle on his face. The palette choice for his clothing brought out his eyes; the orbs a mysterious and entrancing azure. He looked like a true royal.
"You're not so bad yourself," Merlin joked, biting his lip anxiously, lifting his head back up to analyze the others in the room. After a few moments had passed, the room had begun with the former chatter once again, laughter and an array of conversations appearing.
"You can make The Merlin again, if you want to," I played, trying to calm him from his nervous fit.
Giving a soft laugh, the tension began to ease from his bones. "I don't think that would be very appropriate of me during a royal feast."
Smirking, I turned back to my plate, eating while conversing with Merlin for the time being. Everything was back to normal—except Merlin had a plate of his own with a crown on his head.
"Everyone; if I could please hold your attention!"
My head instantly whipped to the clinking of a fork against glass, seeing a royal standing, cup in hand. A ghost of a smile was painted on the man's face. "Thank you, King Merlin for welcoming us with open arms to Aeyland."
My eyes glanced to Merlin who gave a stern nod in reply, taking a sip of wine from his glass to avoid further conversation. That attempt got backfired when the guested king spoke again.
"I see that Arthur Pendragon has made a presence in these lands once again." The king pointed an accusing finger in my direction, his other hand on the unsheathed sword.
Merlin then gave a taut glare, releasing his cup, scooting his chair back to make a retort. "He is unlike of what you are aware of. He fully accepts magic with respect." He paused, gazing with a foreign intensity. "I suggest you pay him the same amount of respect, King Keres."
Keres eventually backed off, giving me a malicious, curt smile before returning to his seat. Merlin nodded in respect to his decision, too, deciding to sit. I inwardly shivered. Merlin was sinister in the most elegant way. The feast continued, as I awkwardly ate my food, feeling Keres's eyes on me—analyzing me. Blinking, I tried to rid the thought away, poking at the quail on my plate.
"Don't listen to him," Merlin suddenly spoke in a hushed tone, nonchalantly looking to me.
I gave a weak smile. "He's right, Merlin." Dropping the fork quietly, I turned to face him. "A man who was born to despise magic is sitting beside magic itself."
Merlin shook his head. "You're wrong. I know for a fact you don't hate magic. You wouldn't kill me."
"You're right," I sighed. Raising my eyes, I stared to the welcomed king eating with a smile. Nodding to Keres, I finished my reply. "But he will."

A/N: Sorry, this was more of a fill-in chapter; but I promise the book will pick up on pace soon! I hope y'all like this book so far! Feel free to leave a vote or comment—it would mean a lot to me! Thanks! Bye!