AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Iwoke up feeling happierthan I had in a long time.
The sun was streaming in through the window over the desk, shining on my face and causing me to squint as I rolled over. I hadn’t bothered to rise and draw the curtains during the night.
For a moment, all I could recall was Draven. The feel of his solid, strong body pressed along mine. His hands holding me, tender and possessive.
The words we had said echoed through my mind.
All harshness and bitterness was in the past. We had turned a new corner. From here on out, we would move on together.
Together but apart.
I wished he were here with me now.
And with that thought, I suddenly remembered Merlin and sat up in bed.
She was gone. In one night, she had been taken from me.
It was morning. I was back in the castle of Camelot.
And Merlin was never ever coming back.
Sorrow welled up like a fountain. I let it fill me, holding the pain in my heart.
If Merlin had died at some other time with some worthier monarch on our throne, the entire city of Camelot—nay, the entirekingdomwould be mourning her loss. Bells would be ringing for days. There would be a funeral procession in her honor, attended by nobles and diplomats from not only Pendrath but other kingdoms as well.
But we were at war. And Merlin had died a seemingly ignoble death at the hands of a tyrant.
If what Arthur had threatened was true, then her body would hang in the marketplace—as if she were a traitor and not a hero.
So I would mourn her. I would let myself feel the pain. But I would remember I was not alone. As soon as word reached Sir Ector, Dame Halyna, Galahad, and all of the others, they would be mourning alongside me—stoically and silently, but with their whole hearts. I had no doubt of that.
A tapping came. At first I thought it was the door. Memories of Florian briefly flooded my mind. I pushed them away. That bastard had never knocked.
I rose to my feet. The tapping was not coming from the door, I realized.
My bed lay on one side of the narrow, rectangular chamber. The desk by the window in the center.
On the opposite side was my reading nook. Tall bookshelves lined the walls around a large stone fireplace.
I walked towards that side of the room, and the tapping came again, louder this time.
Feeling incredibly foolish, I cleared my throat. “Enter?”
There was a squeaking noise, like a tired hinge in need of more grease.
Then a bookshelf swung open towards me.
“This is ridiculous,” I complained, as I took in the sight of my Uncle Caspar standing in the shadows looking far too pleased with himself. “Does every castle in the world have a network of secret passages?”
“I couldn’t possibly say.” The white-bearded man stepped out, wheezing a little, and immediately took a seat in an armchair near the hearth. “I have not visited all of them.”
“Well, I’ve been in two,” I grumbled. “Not to mention the temple. And they all possessed them.”
“Highly convenient for you, I presume. Not to mention for all the kings and queens and spies who needed to get around unobserved in the past.”
“They have come in handy,” I admitted. I remembered part of the discussion from the night before. “Arthur knows the castle has some now. He mentioned it in front of Fenyx when...” I stopped, remembering.
My uncle’s expression turned sad. “Yes, word of Merlin’s passing reached me in the night.”
