- You can't blame me for my father sins.

- It's a little late for that, you made it perfectly clear how you feel about me and my kind. You are not as different from Uther as you'd like to think.

- Nor are you.

Arthur was leaving at sunrise. He was clad in red and gold and silver, proud Camelot King on his way to save another village from bandits attacks. All a show, of course, to throw certain people off.

His loyal knights, solemn and sombre, towered on their unrestful horses over the parting party. Only Elyan briefly had gotten off his steed to hug her goodbye. Gwen then sneaked a Brigantia medal into his satchel.

Gwen stood ahead with her back to the people of the royal court. In the dull silence of the morning castle where each rustle and murmur was seemingly soaked by the damp air that was left after the early fog, she could pretend that way that she alone was seeing Arthur off.

They had a farewell in their chambers, so Arthur held himself detachedly. He led Archi to stand beside her, sweeping worried eyes over the courtyard. Gwen instantly clutched the breast band of his horse, putting the other hand on Arthur's knee.

Arthur tenderly lifted her chin. His eyes were burning.

- I am leaving.

His word came out muffled and if Gwen wasn't so entranced by his lips, she would have thought she hallucinated.

- Kiss me, - she breathed, surprising even herself.

Artur didn't answer, his eyes going back to looking behind her. Gwen swayed.

- Arthur...

- I wish you a successful trip, Your majesty!

Agravaine's loud voice grazed through the silence and made everyone flinch.

- Thank you, uncle.

Arthur's tone did not invite continuation.

He nodded at the Knights to start moving.

Then caught Gwen's falling hand and briefly hunched over for a kiss.

- Be careful, Guinevere.

And in an instant, he was gone. And although even the thud of hoofs had long disappeared, Gwen was rooted in one place, not wanting to face the court, or rather Agravaine. She didn't know why, but the man invoked some primal disgust in her. Since childhood when she trained herself to value people based only on their actions, Gwen had not felt such repulsion to a way one looks. Starting with his pasty yellowish face that resembled oatcakes her grandmother made, always adding a little too much oil, and his greasy thin hair to his always black, well-worn clothes, that without fail collected all the dust and dirt and looked untidy type of grey by the end of the day; everything rubbed Gwen the wrong way. And for the first time, she didn't want to ignore her gut feeling.

Gwen felt a presence behind her. She turned around. Agravaine.

- These next days will be a great ordeal for you, my Queen.

Agravaine stood, his hands clutched behind his back, and as much as she tried Gwen couldn't discern any thought in his always ingratiating expression. She decided to go on a safe route:

- Indeed, they will.

Agravaine just nodded in response, as mysterious as ever:

- It is my duty as a confidant to the King and also your uncle-in-law, - Gwen tried not to shudder at these words, - to assist you the best that I can. I want to assist you, Your Highness. - Agravane bowed a little. - I will be at your disposal, please, do not hesitate to ask me for help.

- Of course, - Gwen barely moved, - thank you, counsel.

She didn't know what to think about the exchange. For all her weird feelings and distrust, Agravaine's action was always ambitious enough that one could think he truly cares about Camelot.

Gwen straightened herself. Agravaine was Arthur's last loving relative, and, to her knowledge, had yet to do something malicious, she just couldn't dwell on such thoughts.

Maybe not so surprisingly, the ruling part of her job was just as easy as before. Not easy, she didn't treat lawmaking lightly, or thought it was easy! Wait...

Maybe not so surprisingly, the ruling part of her job had not become harder. Because of the changes implemented right after her coronation, the heir to the throne could have his or her spouse assume part of their duties, so frequently she handled certain things alone or was left completely in charge when Arthur went on a day or even a half-day patrol. However, wrapped in the knowledge that Arthur wouldn't come to nip in the bud their most ineffective and selfish proposals, those, who opposed her, were getting bolder. The nerve of Uden to try and slip amendment of reduction of aid to Etures province, when not even a month before he requested an aid himself!

Despite her burning indignation, Gwen kept her face cold:

- Once again I remind you, that any amendment to the winter decrees Sir Geoffry is kindly composing is invalid unless is discussed by all members of the court and approved personally by me or the King. - she said as formally as she could. - If you had adhered to the process, you would have learned that since west of the country was left in ruins by Cenred's army, Etures, according to recent reports, is providing almost 70% of crops consumed by the rest of the provinces. If Camelot won't aid them with devastations brought by rain season, we will have no food come spring.

- Council dismissed.

Gwen stood up, still the picture-perfect Queen, calm and collected. She waited until members of the court bided their goodbye and left the Throne room. Then she sagged back in, ignoring the carving of the coronation of one of Arthur's ancestor, that painfully dug into her back.

- Heavens! I was so afraid of the court in Uther's time, but some of them seem really nice. - Without any regard for the invaluable centuries-old wood, Merlin jumped on the round table and instantly stretched his grubby hands to the confidential documents.

Oh, she forgot about the other problem. Merlin. The boy also seemed to need Arthur, as it was revealed he didn't appear to have respect for any other authority figure and was doing whatever his heart desired. Now, apparently, it desired to commit espionage.

Gwen yanked all the documents right from under one curious nose and stacked them onto the nearest chair.

- I can legally put you in the cells for being here, Merlin. - she said with no real heat.

Merlin just grunted in response. Gwen sighed exaggeratedly.

- What are you doing here, Merlin?

His confidence faded in a second.

- Just... You know, trying to learn about the people who oversee us all?

Gwen raised her brows somewhat thoughtfully. It did sound like the truth. After Arthur's departure, Merlin spent all his time in the castle, or rather in this room, almost religiously following every council meeting, audiences with the Queen, trials and knight reports.

Why though?

- They are like everyone else. Some are truly decent people, some are selfish, most - indifferent. The members of the council all have lands in their home provinces, and they have serfs to work on this land and bring them a steady flow of money. They also have their fees for service and privileges. - Gwen shrugged. - I would say they are pretty impartial and empathetic. The indifferent ones. Certainly think of themselves as good. Most of them I like.

- But they wouldn't argue too much over anything?

Merlin's voice sounded weird, disgusted even.

Gwen smile was no more than a sad upturn of the corner of her lips.

- No, they wouldn't.

The next day a protest broke. Well, not a protest, but a group of traders demanded that all knights of non-noble birth that would protect their caravan are to be sent away or replaced as the traders shared concerns about "safety of their possessions", so Gwen took Leon as the leader of the Knights and they both set to the main guild house.

Unfortunately, 5 hours of discussions didn't resolve the problem. After citing reports of crimes committed by the new knights (none) and telling detailed descriptions of how a person could become a knight, of training, and of personal achievements, there were still people who just would not budge!

It seemed that she would have to hold voting with Geoffry present to legalize it. Maybe the council could even come up with a law...

Tired, Gwen accepted Leon's help in mounting her horse, Zephyr. It was time to go back.

Leon coughed, looking unsure:

- Your Majesty, - at Gwen's nod he became serious, - as a man in charge of the Knights of Camelot, I promise you loya...

- WHA IN THE WORLD FAU I'LL NEED YER RUGS, YA STUPID DONCKEW!

Someone yelled from the yard, and then a dull thump of a door was heard.

- My rags is of the highest quality in the whole Albion! Everyone, from the King of Mercia to the Romain clerics, needs them!

- Than tha bunch havnae pulp in their pumpkin, same as yar! Thin asa blade of grass thera, good fau nothing!

Gwen chuckled. Caine never loved politeness.

Leon, on the contrary, looked mildly uncomfortable.

- I will deal with it, Your Majesty.

- You will.

Gwen hesitated a bit.

- And, Leon, thank you for your words.

She rode with a sour taste in her mouth. It wasn't a first such incident, and she genuinely was baffled by some of the people. What moved them that they couldn't see the oblivious wrongness, the evil of their actions, that never truly benefited anybody, especially in the long run?

For her discovering her neighbour, Wesley, who practically built the best inn in Camelot with dirt and sticks, thought that to each their own, and people not of noble birth are less entrepreneurial and "Oh, the King shouldn't give them money for building anything, except their own houses. It's a straight waste! You have to be born special to bring good to people" and Zara, a lovely girl which always treated her nicely despite realizing through years the difference in their statuses would rather have her nanny executed based on unfounded suspicions then "feel uneasy" was tiring. She thought the battle was won when Arthur first, still when Uther was alive, held a trial, where a word of a commoner mattered.

She thought they just had to wait.

Well, turned out Arthur's personal journey was the least of their worries.

Back at the castle, she was greeted with a bit of chaos.

The courtyard was filled with a small crowd of peasants, complete with their children and for some reason cattle. Gwen saw a dozen pigs, horses and one big lazy-looking cow. Despite the low number of processors, the clamour they produced was deafening. Gwen froze, concerned.

Thankfully, upon closer inspection, the people's expression appeared pleased as they themselves were. Gwen didn't know any of them personally, so the greetings, when people were passing on the way out, were swift.

Gwen dismounted, leaving Zephyr to Otis the stablehand. She obviously needed to sort out what this was all about.

However, Agravaine beat her to it. He flew down the main stairs, his cloak billowing, sir Hanry with whom she arrived, on his toes.

- I was informed the issue remains, but the situation is deescalated. Is this correct, Your Majesty?

- You are right, counsel. - Gwen nodded.

- Then I am glad.

Gwen squinted thoughtfully. Something was different. Agravaine looked dishevelled. And not the kind one gets when running through a castle. No, the weary kind.

- And how the castle fared in my absence?

Agravaine laughed.

- You must have seen our guests!

- I took the responsibility to hold trials to settle disputes between peasants. You see, there was a lot of petitioners coming from afar, the last bunch is from Therunna.

- That is a good initiative. I wouldn't have been in time. - Gwen was pleasantly surprised. Usually, all petitions by peasants were reviewed on demand by the Queen or The King or a delegated noble. Of course, the job wasn't extremely popular as it left no room for political ambitions. They mostly had to guess which decision would be both in accordance with the law and pleasing to the people's will otherwise the later would unleash all its power. Honestly, Gwen didn't expect Agravane to be this... selfless.

- Thank you, your Majesty. - Agravaine faltered. - May I suggest, given this trying situations, of course...

- Go on.

- I will like to offer my help in lifting this burden off your shoulder and be constant representative in the court of a common community.

Gwen pondered the suggestion. She actually liked that. Hugely. The matters discussed in the court was often trivial and overseeing it took a lot of time considering the time when she disagreed with counsels were awfully sparse.

And people always could appeal to the Queen.

Gwen nodded.

- Excellent, counsel. You will be helping a great deal.

- You are the Queen, can't you move the court meeting?

Merlin jumped out of nowhere, while she was walking to the Throne room, almost making Gwen drop the reports she was holding. On Gwen's indignant gawk he just innocently smiled, vigorously taking away all the top-secret documents. Gwen lightly flicked his nose and rearranged the heap in Merlin's arm to her liking.

- Good morning, Merlin. - Gwen sighed exaggeratedly. - And why would I do that?

Merlin smile was disarming.

- I can't attend both the court and trials at the same time?

- And why do you want to?

Merlin stopped, frowning comically, and tried to hold his hand over his heart while having his arms full. He wasn't very successful.

- I am plagued by concerns about our Kingdom.

Gwen laughed.

- You always say the weirdest things, Merlin.

Merlin looked offended, but it was short-lived.

- It's not a weird thing to say. I live here! Besides, I don't trust some counsels.

- I already said they are mostly harmless.

- Well! - Merlin shrugged. - Have you seen Agravaine, for example? The man runs his servants rugged, but had he ever thought to ask them to make him a bath? No. He is the weird one. I just have to watch him in court.

- Careful, Agravaine is of the royal family. - She bumped their shoulders playfully. - Besides, I made him a constant representative at the trials.

Merlin frowned.

- For forever?

- No, until Arthur's back.

- Hum.

Merlin scratched his nose thoughtfully. Then he bolted.

- Hey, give back my reports!

Three days after a disguised Reinar knight reported that Arthur's mission was extended to an unidentified period.

Then at the beginning of a new week, a sorcerer was executed for the first time since the new King's coronation.

A man's crime was magicking the crops on his part of the village's field to grow healthy during suspiciously rainless summer. He was a middle-aged man, rather average in appearance, but with a round bald patch on the top of his head. Despite the situation, the man looked more annoyed than scared or sad. Well, until his mother, old, dried up woman with gangly fingers and set face, came out of the crowd of his fellow villagers, that brought him to trial, and spitted at the foot of his pyre.

Gwen, summoned by Argravaine's servant mere minutes ago, looked at the scene from the balcony in confusing feelings. Since early morning of yesterday, she was preparing the Kingdom to fare without his young King, talking to ambassadors, awakened like guard dogs that smelled tart spirit of unrest, ordering heralds to bring messages to concerned people, reviewing those of royal initiatives they decided 5 days ago could wait until Arthur's return and figuring out where the hell Merlin disappeared to. And by the evening she was drained, her whole body, muscles, joints, head, buzzing, the phrase "Lord Agravaine request your presence at the execution, Your Majesty" sliding of her conscience like a piece of a scroll would've of a dry wall.

Mindlessly swept by the crowd of people, who spotted unremarkable, routine kind of indignation, Gwen held her individual scrolls, that described details of the trial and her heart was dully thumping, making her ears feel like they were stuffed with cotton.

If her heart was beating in sympathy or in fear, she couldn't tell.

- The crowd awaits you, Your Majesty.

Agravaine stood in a center of the balcony, his scroll with a speech, unwrapped, already being held by both of his lowered hands. He looked tired but in a professional kind of way that told: "I already had a long day of hard work, but if not me then who?". He was confident. In control.

Gwen didn't even remember she had a say in what was happening until she took a step ahead and by a welcoming roar deafened her. Instantly her mind cleared. In reality, she was the one deciding whether a man dies today.

Gwen looked at the man, who was held by a guard while the last preparations were being made. He didn't look evil. But again, Gwen thought, remembering the scroll, he confessed to using magic. Only the thought sent chills down her spine.

She could understand druids, they cast aside the society with its conveniences and temptations; they worshipped magic akin a God, the ultimate good, whatever they perceived that good as. Why would an ordinary man risk to gain this power, learn such a thing by himself unless he wanted to abuse its gifts?

The crowd cheered again and again Gwen roused herself. Right, she was the Queen. People depended on her for protection. Did she have a right to risk their wellbeing, their lives by letting a sorcerer run free? A sorcerer who already deserved a harsh punishment for endangering his fellow villagers' lives by causing a poor harvest.

She knew her answer.

Her ice-cold fingers clenched her skirt where it was obstructed by the balustrade. Gwen nodded to start the execution.

A few days later Merlin appeared. To Gwen's great relief, he looked fine. He snuck through corridors still with the same briskness, always against the current and always barely looking around, his hair was just as wild and his voice, teasing and confident, was always heard in the crooked corridors of the castle.

She would have asked him if he was fine and where he went to, but for some reason, it appeared he didn't want to talk to her.

Gaius said he urgently needed some rare herb, so he sent Merlin for it. Gwen then looked at his dusty pestles and jars and mortars and didn't believe him. Merlin himself didn't say hello or approached her and seemed to have a thing to which he has to run whenever she tried to talk to him.

One time upon seeing her at the other side of the corridor he just turned away and sped up.

That... hurt.

However, marking another day since Ocelus' celebrations to the day of her father's murder, Gwen selfishly wished Merlin would still accompany her to her father's grave like he always did.

That day Merlin appeared only when the sky above Camelot was becoming stained with hues of pink and purple and orange, like a starched doily soaking up spilt wine. Gwen was tying up her worn simple satchel when he jumped from the window, casual and tense at the same time. Despite her fright, Gwen barely moved. By Merlin's distant, serious eyes, she understood something was still wrong between them. She just wished Merlin would have said to her what it was.

But Merlin remained silent. He fumbled a little with a rope that he brought, then clapped Gwen's shoulder reassuringly and leapt from the window.

Now Gwen reacted. She cried out and dashed to the windowsill, but she couldn't see anything, except the end of the rope that was straining and twitching, disappearing into the night.

Horses that waited for them behind castle walls were restless. They stomped at one place and even reared from time to time. Zephyr, usually indifferent to whatever is done to him, slapped her with his horsetail as she was trying to pet him. It made Gwen restless too. Her heart was beating at the throat, panic both quickening and slowing the world around her.

She thought about bandits and her empty chambers and what would happen if Arthur returned just now. Merlin must have sensed her state of mind because he glanced back:

- I told Leon we would be away, he promised to take care of the castle.

Gwen didn't answer.

When they arrived at the place, all of Gwen's thoughts and worries were as though wiped away. She hopped down from Zephyr and in the next moment was already kneeling beside her father's grave.

It was just three uneven stones, resting on each other, barely distinctive after a year under layers of mud and moss and fallen leaves, forgotten, engulfed by the strict and impassive nature. Just another part of a landscape, just another life insensibly snatched before it's time by the calamity that was Uther's reign.

That sight hurt her. Gwen was chocking on her tears as ripped and swept away all the filth covering the stones with her bare hands. How did nature dare claim that was not yet hers to keep? Life already deprived her father of so much: a wife, then a son, of freedom, of a feeling of safety, of having a decent existence, with a full stomach and rested shoulders, of a dignified death. And even then it didn't want to stop... Well, then Gwen would stop her. She could do it! She was the Queen, goddamnit!

Gwen cried and cried and cried, smearing tears and mud over her face, she cried until all the water ran out of her, leaving her stiff, until the chill of the earth that was falling asleep seeped all the way to her bones, until the next time she had opened her eyes, the darkness was all she could see.

Gwen helplessly grabbed the air around, feeling like she was falling, her legs numb from long sitting, until a hand bumped into hers and three feet away a bonfire flared.

- Shh! - Merlin hugged her shoulders, gently rocking left to right. - It's fine. Everything will be fine.

Gwen leaned into him, still disoriented.

- I didn't bring any water, but I ha...

- I did.

Merlin understood her, stood up and went to Zephyr.

It took most of the water in her waterskin for Gwen to be clean again. The remaining she poured onto the stones.

Then they sat beside the fire, silent until Gwen's expression started twisting more and more with each wave of an impending headache. Like a stubborn child, she ignored it, willing for it to go away.

Merlin noticed. She knew he noticed by his comically stupefied face. He shifted and produced a jug of mead from somewhere.

- It's not water, - Merlin shrugged, - but Gaius said honey has healing properties.

Gwen took the jug. She rarely drank, but nights always brought a sense of impunity, otherness, like whatever you would do will happen in another world. And, Gods help, maybe Gwaine was right and there was something in alcohol.

After the first round, Gwen's headache dulled a little, her vision blurred both from the drink and the crying. Merlin, however, seemingly remembered something, as he withdrew again, clothing his knees tight to his body.

Suddenly, Gwen became annoyed.

- What are you mad at me for? Just say it!

Merlin shrunk more.

- It's nothing. I'm sorry.

He said, but there wasn't any sincerity in his tone, just sadness. Gwen anger dissipated as quickly as it appeared. She also drew her knees to her body and took another sip.

- Why does it have to be like this? I was supposed to take care of him, and couldn't even... - She inhaled loudly, tormented by the many questions that still didn't get answered. - All this sneaking around. All his life he lived as an honest man, I swear. And one little mistake...

Gwen glanced at Merlin. Maybe it was the work of dusk that made things bend into one another at the same time elongating, extenuating each feature, transforming a face into a performance mask, but Merlin again looked like some other person, more seasoned, older. Another question that she would never get an answer to.

Gwen turned back to the bonfire.

- He bought me a dress with the money that he got from that job. It was stupid; we had nothing for the winter in the cellar and our roof leaked in one place and where would I ever wear it! - She laughed drily, not expecting any kind of reaction as she had already told this exact story. - But he bought it anyway for me. I didn't realize it firstly, what he meant, but he believed that if you work hard enough and be a decent person Gods will reward you. When I cried that I could not go to a ball with all my friends because of who we were, dad said it to me and promised one day life would reward us and he would buy me the prettiest dress so I too could just... live and don't worry about anything.

- What had he ever done, I don't understand?! - She cried out in emptiness of the night. Merlin just passed her the jug.

They sat in silence, Gwen's mind cluttered by thoughts about why did her dad ran and who helped him, about Elyan, who was still stuck on a mission and how badly he and dad parted, about the bonfire that should have already died down but was as strong as it was at the beginning. Like a dog chasing her own tail, her mind chased these thoughts, always just out of reach.

Gwen finally moved at sunrise. She stood up on her throbbing legs and said the last prayer over her father's grave, asking Gods to let her take Elyan and, maybe, Arthur next time.

Merlin was long working, watering the horses, gathering their supplies and engulfing the bonfire. Suddenly feeling playful, Gwen fumbled for an acorn and threw it at Merlin with no real force.

- Why are you upset with me really?

Merlin just rolled his eyes at her, teasingly. Gwen smiled back.

Only when the castle walls were in sight, Merlin suddenly stated inquiringly:

- The execution, - he raised his shoulders up to his ears, uncomfortable, - Gaius said you executed a sorcerer when I was gone?

- Oh, he confessed to spoiling the crops. - Gwen frowned. Why would an execution... Unless?.. - I ordered to give him a draught before, you know...

Merlin didn't move a muscle, and Gwen, confused, stubbornly continued:

- Agravaine already sentenced him to a pyre, when I learnt about it, so I just...

- Didn't argue too much over it?

Merlin whispered as though not to her.

Gwen mused, feeling like she already lived through this moment.

- No, I guess I didn't.

- You can be a servant a pretend you're less than them, but I not gonna...

- No, that is not what I do!

- No, you defending the King! Protecting a man that would have you dead!

- I am protecting you!

- You've been pretending for so long now that you've actually forgotten who you are.