Each day that Guinevere didn’t come to Arthur, the king worried. What started out as a smoldering flame of concern had now erupted into a full-fledged fire torturing his mind and soul.
Maybe’s she’s left, he fretted. Perhaps she can’t handle what I did and she’s gone for good this time. That’s it. There’s no undoing it now. She’s lost to me. If this is truly the end of us…
But each night, he’d sneak by Guinevere’s modest cottage, and when he’d peek through her window and see soft candlelight illuminating the home’s interior, he’d breathe a quiet sigh of relief. She was still there. As long as she remained in Camelot, hope existed.
Five days after Arthur had told Guinevere he still loved her and wanted her has his wife, yet she still hadn’t…show more content… “I’m honored that you trust me, sire.”
Arthur softened. “Yes, well… forgive my bad temper. I’ll see you at sunset.”
XXXX
Right at sunset, Merlin turned up at Arthur’s chamber with two other servants behind him. Arthur motioned for Merlin to take a seat at the dining table next to him, and the servants presented a mouth-watering meal of roast carp in a wine and butter sauce, honey bread, and spiced carrot pudding. A large pitcher of mead and two tall tankards sat in the middle the table. The moment the servants left the chamber with a bow, Merlin groaned with delight and leaned forward to sniff the delicious aromas wafting from the steaming plates of food before him.
Arthur wrinkled his brow in reaction to Merlin’s response to the meal. “Merlin, it’s just supper. It’s not as if you don’t eat regular meals. Sometimes, you act as if you’re starved and beaten, which is hardly the case. Is such drama necessary?”
Merlin held up a hand. “Wait, please allow me to savor this moment.” The servant closed his eyes and gave another exaggerated sniff. “Yes, I eat, but not this well. Ah, the scent of warm honey bread…”
“Please, this is a touch ridiculous… Oh, all right, just dig
