chapter forty!
040. arthur's spectacular plan

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    CAMELOT WAS STILL recovering from Cornelius Sigan's attack weeks later. None of them were sure how the sorcerer fell and his statues were destroyed▬most concluded it would have to have been the bravery of the Camelot Knights, and Prince Arthur's final stand in the early hours of the following morning. But Odette knew the truth. She knew of the legendary warlock whose power exceeded even whom they believed to be the greatest sorcerer of all time. Merlin defeated Sigan and saved Camelot from its ultimate destruction▬as was the usual story, and received not one breath of credit. Aside from the smiles and congratulations▬the relieved hugs Odette and Gaius gave him, which, in truth, was all Merlin really needed. 

    The citadel believed they would fall behind in their usual festivities during the year▬but the King refused to miss one of their favourite tournaments for this season▬if not all of them: The annual Jousting Tournament. The arena was fashioned with sand at the feet, flags from front end and stands were lifted up over the field were knights galloped towards the other▬prepared to knock each other from their saddles; sometimes in the most vicious of ways. It was exhilarating to watch for most and horrifying for others. The fields just outside the stands were colourful in many striped canvas tents. Odette gazed down from the battlements, biting back a grin on her face as she counted each and every one. They were colours of gold and scarlet, canary yellow and blue, deep burgundy and white▬a small village outside the citadel walls. It was a maze of brilliant colour where knights passed by to and thro, cheered each other with drinks in their hands and showed off their geldings. Squires and servants followed at their heels, darted in and out of tents and around standing nobles. Court members sat behind tables as they wrote down a census of competitors▬as the days passed, more and more signed up to take place in the tournament. And as they did, more and more tents rose, more flags dangled down from the Camelot stands and more shields were positioned above in ranking. Bets were made in the taverns and within the castle hallways, flags could be bought in the markets and children were already trying to knock one another off their wooden play horses made from sticks in the streets. 

    Much like always when a tournament was on within the week, Camelot was lit up with excitement. The annual Jousting Tournament was usually held during the last few days of the Summer Season, welcoming the dive into where they spent their days gathering provisions for Winter; where the leaves began to fall and crunch underneath Odette's boots (and when the weather was always dreary and raining). They spent their last remaining days of more sunlight than usual in celebrations that were bright, happy and exciting (and quite daring, as was the rage for sports in the present time). 

    Odette watched the knights practice within the arena. Eyes wide and peering through the gaps in the battlements to stare at one in particular. The Prince was easy to spot with his tunic of scarlet red underneath polished armour and chainmail. He rode a gelding of a shining chestnut coat and eased his way to winning each practice round▬failing not once. She smiled slightly to herself, silently cheering on each victory. She was sure he was going to win yet again this year, as he always does whenever he competed▬a reigning champion in everything the citadel had to offer in sword-craft, mace-work and jousting. 

    It was something quite joyful after the near destruction of the Lower Town from Cornelius Sigan's returned tyranny▬a break for men that were preparing the stone of their homes and the castle walls. And a break for any who had lost their homes, who had lost family and friends, were injured or simply could not shake the events from their mind. A joyful distraction was what they each needed. 

    Arthur knocked another one of his knights off his horse and Odette clapped her hands softly, waving the flag she had bought this morning from the markets. She felt rather stupid, to find herself gazing after Arthur when she knew nothing could ever become of it. She felt naive, even, to find him handsome▬but nothing she tried to do could stop herself from holding a delicate breath each time she saw him. He with his blonde hair, sharp jaw and bright blue eyes. She just couldn't help it. She couldn't help the swell in her chest, and the burn to her cheeks▬or how she just watched everything he did, and had to hide a smile at every jest he made to Merlin. She was great at hiding it from everyone else, she liked to think▬because she had to. 

    She had no choice. She was a servant. He was the future King of Camelot▬as simple ... and as painful ... as that. 

    Odette's smile fell away and she fiddled with her flag. She must let it pass▬for feelings always do pass, eventually. She'll forget about them, and they'll disappear within her; as they must. It was not her destiny to fall for a Prince; she couldn't be that arrogant. Not even her positive nature was that hopeful. 

    "Is that a new dress?"

    The young handmaiden glanced back and managed a small smile when she saw Ronyn. He nodded to the simple garb she wore. Her pale red skirts underneath a white bodice were something new, considering Odette was maturing out of most of the dresses she's worn since she was younger. Gwen made it for her, as she does most things. It was a good, simple dress for work around the castle with the newly fashionable bell-sleeves that scooped down at her wrists. 

    She glanced back up at him and nodded. "Yes▬it is, thank you for noticing."

    Ronyn joined her in leaning against the battlements, taking a deep breath from the fresh morning air. He▬too▬had been dressed in a simple forest green tunic that he hadn't even decided to belt. It hung over his trousers, rolled up at the sleeves to his elbows. Odette presumed he has spent most of the morning signing papers and doing his booing. She was proud of him, truly, as he started to step into the role of Lord Vecentia more. She was still yet to decide whether it was because he had to, whether it was a breath of duty, or whether he was starting to accept where life had brought him. 

    Then, he turned to her and said mischievously. "Should you not be tending to Morgana?"

    "Should you not be heading off to ready yourself for the council meeting?" She queried straight back at him and he bit down a chuckle, shaking his head at her. 

    "I am actually about to accompany Adelynn to the markets," Ronyn told her. "She wishes to get more flags. Since she is sitting with me in the stands, she wishes to show her support for the knights."

    Odette's brows furrowed. "How many times has she gone down to get more flags?"

    He matched her incredulous glance. "Six times, now. And she gets at least ten of them. And then she claims she loses them! So I have to take her back and pay for them▬they are shockingly expensive."

    The young handmaiden turned up her nose. "Excuse me, My Lord▬are you complaining about expenses?"

   Ronyn flashed her a cheeky grin. "Yes, and you are excused."

    Odette scoffed and shoved him lightly. He chuckled. She was delighted to see him like this, carefree and just ... well ... happy. She went to say something else▬perhaps talk about the preparations within the castle for the tournament when Ronyn suddenly stood up. "Oh, that does not look good."

    She frowned and went to ask what happened▬only to see when she glanced down. She sighed as she saw Arthur storm up to Sir Leon under the glare of the sun, and she could only guess something had occurred. Ronyn bounced his brows and pushed off the battlement wall. "Guess I must add figuring out what got him so angry also on today's schedule. See you sometime soon, Odette."

    "Do not aggravate him," she said and Ronyn made a face at the accusation. 

    He brushed past her, mockingly offended. "When have I ever aggravated him?"

    She just stared at him, disapproving. 

    The day progressed from then. Like a fast spinning wheel, it blurred from one point to another▬the work was strenuous to prepare all the rooms for travelling knights, lords and ladies who had come from their country homes back to the citadel to watch the jousts. They carried meals, fresh sheets, clean tunics and dresses. Odette spent most of it preparing everything for Morgana when the tournament began. She would have to look presentable as the King's Ward▬which meant one of her better dresses, but not too formal. Perhaps a headpiece and a cloak to keep her protected from the sun. They had decided on a green colour for her dress and so Odette and Guinevere searched through her accessories to find what would be suitable to sit beside the King. 

    They did most of this with her in the room, chatting and discussing the excitement and possible outcomes of the week▬Morgana ate and drank for her quick luncheon while her maidservants showed her pieces of jewellery and additional garbs. Though soon later, she had a ride with the King▬something they had planned to do (or rather he planned) before he would become too busy with the tournament. 

    During this, Odette and Gwen chatted aimlessly as they cleaned Morgana's table and her chambers. It was then that out of the blue, Merlin and Ronyn came to visit. Odette had opened the door after a few knocks and frowned, quite surprised to see them both.

    "Hello?" she asked, very confused.

    Merlin just stepped inside. Ronyn watched him go, his hands momentarily rising in exasperation as if they discussed his lack of manners prior to arriving. With he sigh, he turned back to Odette and asked for the both of them: "May we come in?"

     She opened the door wide and he slipped into the bed chamber after merlin. Ronyn nodded to Gwen and she bowed her head. "Good afternoon, Guinevere," he greeted her politely. 

    Guinevere fiddled with her fingers, glancing shyly at the others with them. Not that either noticed, Merlin was too busy annoying Odette by pushing one vase out of place and staring her down as he did. "Good afternoon, My Lord."

    Odette closed the door and stormed up to Merlin. "Do not touch things▬" she smacked his arm and he stepped away, hitting her shoulder lightly in response. Both Gwen and Ronyn shot them disgruntled looks. "That vase is a gift from King Olaf!"

    Guinevere sighed as she dusted her skirts. Deciding it was best to interrupt them before things got more heated, she asked Ronyn: "What brings you here? Morgana is not around▬she is on a ride with the King."

    Odette and Merlin rejoined them, standing together much like they usually do. When the manservant met her gaze, she knew there was something he came to ask▬he had the look on his face, where he was hesitant to ask his question, and yet on the edge of his toes to burst it out from his lips.

    "There is something we wish to discuss," prompted Ronyn, quite hesitant as well. "With you. The two of you. Possibly▬very much so, actually."

    "Something we wish to ask," corrected Merlin.

    "Yes," nodded Ronyn, "and discuss. Well▬for someone else, really. Hypothetically, if you will▬"

    "My Lord," Gwen stopped him, arching a brow. "Is it best if you did not go into any hypotheticals?" he went to answer but she just cut him off▬Merlin and Odette shared wide-eyed, intrigued looks. "What is it you wish to ask?"

    "It is for Arthur," said Merlin.

    Odette hated how she perked up. "Arthur?" she asked, suddenly very curious. She winced to herself, quietly coding the jolt of nerves in her stomach. "What does Arthur want?"

    "He is ..." Merlin winced as well as he tried to figure out the best way to explain it. "He feels as though if he competes in the tournament, he will win because none of his Knights are allowed to harm him, because he is the Prince." Both handmaidens frowned at this. "So, he wishes to compete, still, but under the alias of another name▬and the face of somebody else."

    Before Odette or Gwen could ask any questions, Ronyn quickly added: "So he will not be staying in the castle. Which, Guinevere, brings us to the question: can he stay under your roof for the duration of the tournament?"

    There was silence. Guinevere stared at Ronyn, taken aback▬then, she looked mortified. "Arthur?" she whispered to him, hunched. "Prince Arthur?"

    Ronyn blinked. He frowned. "I ... yes, there is no other Arthur we know?"

    She shook her head. "No▬he cannot stay with me."

    "Gwen▬"

    "He cannot!" she stressed, still shaking her head. "I cannot host him▬I do not have the time! I have to tend to Morgana for the tournament. I have to prepare her clothes, clean her sheets, prepare her food. Not to mention what would happen if someone found out?" Guinevere pressed her fingers to her forehead, growing fretful at the very thought. "I would be in so much trouble from the King!"

    "No one would know," Ronyn tried and she glowered at him, not believing that for a moment. "It would only be for a few days▬just during the tournament. Then, he will be back to being Prince Arthur."

    "Just during the tournament▬Ronyn, My Lord, tournaments are almost as busy as banquets for a servant!"

    "You forget, you also have Odette who will be attending with Morgana▬"

    "▬It is not that simple▬!"

    "▬What is not simple? I mean, she does the same thing as you do▬"

    "▬Ronyn, please, do not try and say you understand what is like being a maid▬"

    "▬I was not saying that▬!"

    Startled by the lack of manners between them, but also having had enough of them arguing, Odette offered: "What if I were to stay with him?"

    They both fell quiet simultaneously▬turning to face her with wide eyes. Even Merlin spun to her, shocked she'd suggest such a thing. Odette slowly reared back, not sure how she felt about all of their dubious stares. 

    Merlin made a face. "You want to willingly stay with Arthur?"

    "Well .. if he must do this," went on Odette, shuffling on her toes, "I can host him. Gwen can take the antechamber during the tournament. Which means you will then be closer to everything you need to prepare Morgana and I will take the journey during the mornings. It should not be too much trouble ... O▬only▬" she quickly added to Gwen, "▬if you are okay with that. Obviously, I do not expect you to be okay with that▬"

    "It is not ideal," she muttered, starting to consider the idea. She glanced between the three of them; her gaze lingered on Ronyn for a second longer and her teeth gritted at the pleading look in his eye. At last, she relented. "Fine, I suppose it is the best option if the Prince must do this."

    The manservant and Lord both thanked her, until she met their gratitude with a scowl and they both faltered. They cleared their throats and shared awkward glances. Neither of them were eager to test Guinevere even more.

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    ODETTE WAITED with Ronyn and Gwen in her home the next morning. She was nervous. She picked at her nails and fiddled with her dress. Even her hair. She tucked the waves that fell out of her mother's hair clip behind her ear and back into her pins. She gazed around at Gwen's home, a little awkward underneath a roof that wasn't her own. She eyed the table in the centre that was cleansed and prepared with a vase of flowers in the centre. She peered at the herbs hanging from the ceiling near the fire, the benches and the cupboards. She saw Guinevere's late father's handiwork in her cupboards, stools and her bed. She noticed jars and hanging pots▬this wasn't just Gwen's family home anymore, it had become her home. Odette pursed her lips, frowning to herself as she felt a breath of envy. Which she shouldn't feel. But she couldn't help it. She wasn't envious of having somewhere to say other than Morgana's antechamber or the servants' quarters down near the kitchens or in Gaius's rooms. She found herself bitter that she didn't truly have a place of her own. A place with cupboards and dangling herbs. A place with fabric curtains and her father's homemade furniture. 

    She took a deep breath and pushed it down, blaming her jealousy on her nerves. But Odette was always uncomfortable in these situations▬staying in someone else's home. Already, she was starting to regret offering to do this.

    Meanwhile, Guinevere fretted over her home▬whether it was clean enough for the Prince, whether she had prepared a makeshift bed behind the curtains fit enough for him to also compete in the tournament; whether everything was pleasing enough for ... well ... Arthur and all that entailed. 

    Ronyn watched her rush around and he pursed his lips. He scratched at the loose hair nearby the back of his ear, starting to feel ashamed that they were putting this on her. He glanced briefly at Odette who stood at a stiff standstill in the corner of the home and decided: "Odette▬" she jumped and turned to him almost too quickly, as if eager to be distracted, "▬I believe I saw some of the blankets for the bed outside drying on the rope, did you want to start taking those down?"

    He hated giving Odette an order▬treating her like she wasn't someone who he has known all his life; like she was just a servant. She was a servant, but she wasn't his servant. But she seemed happy to be given something to do, smiling and rushing out the back door▬and Ronyn didn't know whether it was saddening to see, or whether he felt uncomfortable. 

    Either way, it gave him the room to turn to the Lady Morgana's first handmaiden who was still stressing nearby her fire pit. "Maybe I should give it one more sweep..." she murmured, tapping her fingers on her cheek as she examined the wooden floor at her feet for ash. "Yes ... one more sweep▬I will go do that▬"

    "Guinevere," Ronyn stopped her before she could, gently taking her elbow to pull her back. She glanced at him, quite apprehensive at the thought of the prince staying in her home▬most of all about the fact that she wouldn't be around. The Lord Vecentia smiled down at her, and she found her frown lifting. She was quite taken by how it seemed to calm her down. "You have done an amazing job," he praised her. "Fret no more. And thank you, once again, for doing this. Like you said, it is not easy."

    Gwen managed a slight smile at him. She pursed her lips and relaxed under his gaze. Shy, she admitted: "I am not doing it for Arthur. If he asked, I would not have granted it. I am doing this for you."

    Ronyn's smile brightened for a moment. "Really?" he whispered.

     Guinevere's smile matched his▬her smile was the most beautiful thing he has seen in this life. It lifted her cheeks, made her eyes gleam and glimmer▬with her curls falling around her face and the flowers in her hair. She was the lavender flower of which the material of her dress had been sewn. "I will not say it again," she teased him. 

    "You are beautiful," Ronyn found himself saying, sudden and taking her by surprise. 

    She flushed and pulled her arm away. She didn't meet him in his eyes, but her smile told him she loved hearing it. Guinevere turned away from him and his gaze followed her for a moment until the door opened and Odette returned. 

    "I have the blankets!" she announced, proud of herself as she carried them in her arms. 

     It wasn't until after she and Guinevere remade her bed and folded the rest of the blankets away that the door to the home opened. All three of them stood alert as Merlin stepped through first. Guinevere quickly rushed over and reached to keep the door open for the Prince as he entered. He was hidden behind a light blue cloak▬Merlin's cloak. As he stepped inside, he gave Guinevere a small nod and smile. She curtsied, eying him as he stopped beside Merlin, gazing around her home. He pulled down the hood of his cloak. 

    Gwen, Merlin, Odette and Ronyn all migrated together as he glanced around. They stood in an awkward line. Odette hunched up in between Merlin and Gwen, watching and waiting for the Prince's reaction. He hadn't said a word, frowning at the wooden walls and the ceiling; he arched a brow at the crooked doors of the cupboard and the hanging herbs before finally meeting their gazes.

     When he did, Odette and Guinevere both curtsied low. Ronyn nodded, respectful.

    "My Lord," the maids addressed him.

      Arthur managed a stiff smile. "Guinevere," he said to Morgana's first handmaiden, "it is good of you to let me stay in your home."

    Gwen swallowed back her displeasure about all of this for Ronyn's sake and said. "I am happy to help."

    She stood there until Ronyn leaned in and whispered: "Food."

    She jolted to action. "Oh! I▬I will prepare you some food!" then, she added to Ronyn in the same whisper: "I cannot believe you talked me into this!" Spinning on her heel, she rushed to the bread she had on her bench.

    Ronyn watched her go, incredulous. "I thought you said▬?"

    Odette kicked him in the shin to tell him to be quiet. None of them needed Ronyn and Guinevere's complicated friendship and its arguments at the moment. He elbowed her back and she stumbled. The commotion made the Prince turn to her and she flushed bright pink, very embarrassed. Odette stood straight again, breath hitched as she tried to act like that didn't just happen. He didn't say anything to her, and she didn't say anything either▬she linked her fingers tight in front of her skirts, hoping it hid how the way her breathing quickened to just be underneath his blue stare.

    (She remembered how he looked at her, wounded and sitting on that table in the infirmary▬and her heart paced a double beat). 

    She wondered how she was going to survive these few days of the tournament if she spent it with a pounding heart and an inability to talk to Arthur. They had not spoken much▬let alone had a conversation or spent time alone in eight months. Odette didn't know what she was going to do▬or whether she had made the right decision. She was slowly starting to realise that she had made a silly decision in the moment▬she had not thought any of this out. 

    Arthur awkwardly smiled at the silence between them. She wondered whether the same thoughts were going through his mind: what were either of them thinking? 

    "Odette," he finally greeted.

    "Sire," she replied.

    Ronyn let out a soft sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

    "Thank you, as well." Arthur was unusually courteous and polite in his words to her. Like she was just some individual he knew little about in court. It was understandable▬were they strangers? Were they not? She tried not to feel hurt by it, but she did nonetheless. "For taking your time to host me in Guinevere's home."

    "The pleasure is mine, truly," said Odette rather quickly. Then, she backtracked. She closed her eyes at how eager she sounded. "I▬I mean, of course▬I mean▬I'll▬"

    "Odette," Ronyn was quick to save her from her own embarrassment. "How about you help Guinevere with the food?"

    "Yes!" she exclaimed. She swept past him, not after giving the Lord a blessing of gratitude with her eyes. "I will do that."

    Merlin watched her go, his nose upturned in a dubious manner. His glance darted between her and Arthur who eyed her as she moved past. Slowly (and suspiciously), he approached his master with Ronyn in following. As soon as they were close enough, Arthur's polite facade dropped. He whispered to them: "You really cannot expect me to stay here?"

    Merlin stared at him, growing annoyed immediately. Ronyn's brows shot up▬he found the need to defend Guinevere's home. "You need to stay out of sight," he told him, a little stern. Arthur glanced at him, not used to it. "We can trust Guinevere and Odette not to tell anyone you are here."

    The two maids glanced back briefly at the whisper of their names. They didn't quite hear the conversation, but they knew in some way, it was about them. 

    Arthur scoffed under his breath. "I doubt anyone would believe it."

    Merlin was there to defend his two closest friends, quipping a snarky comment without any fear of hurting Arthur's pride: "Well, if you really cannot cope without your big bed and your soft pillows..."

    He knew exactly what to say. Arthur set his jaw, too prideful to admit that Merlin may be right. He took a sharp breath through his nose, shooting Merlin a glower before stating: "This will be fine."

    He brushed past them to continue observe Gwen's home. Merlin met Ronyn's gaze briefly and the two shared an exasperated exchange. Especially when Arthur immediately returned to check what was inside Gwen's crooked cupboard door. Odette noticed and her brows furrowed. She felt a breath of annoyance flood up within her. Her grip on the plate tightened as she passed it over to Gwen. Though, she did not say a word.

    "How are the preparations coming along?" asked the Prince as he closed the cupboard door, finding nothing interesting among the wooden plates and cups. "Have you found someone to play our knight in the tournament?"

    "Yes!" said Merlin, proud of himself. "Absolutely. He is a farmer from one of the outlying villages and no one will recognise him."

    Arthur walked to his side. He didn't look satisfied with this▬nor did he like the smug gleam on his servant's face. "Yes, but does he look the part?"

    He knew▬as soon as he saw Merlin's face contort▬that this was far from the case.

    When William arrived, Odette wondered whether Merlin had found the least-looking knight out of anyone in any village and chose him. He was tall, slender▬skinny and without any of the muscle a warrior would have. His mousy brown hair was littered with grass and his cheeks scuffed with dirt. He smelt, too, like pigs and dirty fleece.

    It was going to be hard to make William look like a Knight, but the servants got to work. As Guinevere left to tend to Morgana and Ronyn (reluctantly) followed to continue his own duties, Odette and Merlin washed and scrubbed the dirt off William's face and chest. They cleaned him like they would any other noble▬tough someone of noble blood usually wasn't this dirty. Odette brushed through his hair and picked out all of the thistles and grass, stepping up onto the tips of her toes. Merlin drenched the cloth he brought with the scented bath water they prepared in Gwen's bucket to clean underneath his arms in hopes to mask the smell. As they did, Arthur watched with a frown on his face▬as if trying to see William in tunic and chainmail (and not liking the sight).

    Though, slowly as they dressed him in fine clothes, his frown started to become intrigued▬he marvelled the way Odette and Merlin managed to change this simple farmer into a highborn son. They put him in Ronyn's tunics and doublet; dressing him in the colours of purple. William was fascinated with the feel of it. Odette kept whispering for him to put his arms down as she tied up his doublet laces. When they slipped the chainmail over his head, he nearly fell over▬and Arthur set aside his food in utter disappointment. 

    When they finally finished, Odette stepped aside. She gazed at William beside her and was quite impressed with her work. With the tunic and the shield▬even though he was still stumbling and quivering at his knees from the weight▬he looked far better than he had at the start. She scratched her neck, analysing her work and nodding to herself. She fixed up the slight tilt of his chainmail as Merlin showed Arthur the seal he had managed to fabricate (with magic, of course, though no one else but the two servants knew▬as always).

    "From now on," grinned Merlin, "you are Sir William of Deira!"

    All three turned expectantly to Arthur. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

    Odette got to know William as he sat and ate the food she offered him. Merlin and Arthur were having a small spat over how this was going to work, but they didn't pay attention to them. She asked him which village he came from and his life back home. He told her a story of his young sun running after their newborn lambs and Odette chuckled, trying to imagine the sight of a little boy with long legs trying to catch up▬and copy▬small sheep. It made her heart soft and light. 

    He was a simple and kind soul▬happy to step forward with a new opportunity to help his Prince. Odette smiled, asking how William was enjoying her food when Arthur cut her off: "Odette," he told her, stern. She glanced back, brows lifted in surprise. "We do not have time to chat."

    Her stare became flat. She rolled her eyes briefly at William to tell him, I apologise for his behaviour before marching over and snatching Arthur's empty bowl from his fingers. He watched her go, incredulous. Merlin bit back his laughter. 

    They had William pace the floor for the next good half of the hour. He might look like a knight, but he needed to know how to act like one to win over the many faces watching▬and Arthur made it stern that it was very important for his plan that William could fool even his father. 

    ("But he is only there to wave at the crowd," Merlin had opposed.

    "Shut up, Merlin.").

    Odette stood back and observed the two of them critique everything William did▬his walk, his posture, even the way he spoke. Peering at him herself, she watched him pace with a tilt of her head and a furrow of her brows, trying to figure out whether his tunic was a little too long past his knees. 

    "How about this▬" offered Merlin as William did another round. "Imagine you are really arrogant. Knight's like to think they are so much better than everyone else."

    "It is not arrogance," grumbled Arthur in response, giving Merlin a scowl. Odette pursed her lips and looked down at her slippers▬she knew better than to get in between the two of them. The Prince stopped William with a hand. "Ignore him," he told the farmer. "He is an idiot."

    Merlin frowned, annoyed. Arthur continued with no consideration to his reaction. "A Knight must behave with honour and nobility."

    William thought about this. As he turned back on his heel, he began knit his brows and set his jaw▬then, in a ridiculous manner, he puffed out his chest and tilted his chin up to the ceiling. He gazed at them all from the bottom of his nose.

    Arthur leaned back, dubious. "That is ..." he chose his words carefully, "... better."

    Odette hid her chuckles and amused smiles into her hair. "I think it is rather accurate," she whispered to Merlin who coughed a laugh▬both servants stopped when the Prince glanced over. 

    He subtly shot them disapproving looks before returning his full attention onto William who had started to march his way back and forth in large strides. "You must convince everyone that you were born into a noble family."

    The farmer quirked a brow at this. Odette's chuckles faded away, her interest piqued by the way he swivelled on the spot. He gradually set his eye down onto Merlin picking at the loose threads on his tunic sleeves. 

    Then, he put on his best regal tone and ordered: "Polish my armour, boy."

    Merlin's eyes shot up, startled.

    Arthur broke out into a grin▬he scoffed a laugh, brandishing a delightful finger at William. "Yes!" he said amongst his laughter. He nudged Merlin who huffed. "Now, you are getting the hang of it!"

    William bared his teeth, snorting. Odette did her very best not to snicker. 

    "That is a good point," then said the Prince to his manservant. "You do need to polish our armour."

    "Yeah," added William in his gruff imitation. He broke out into little snickers following it and Odette couldn't stop the way she looked down at her shoes, stifling her laughter. She was pretty sure he was making fun of Arthur more than anyone else. 

    Odette hadn't realised how much of the day had passed them until William left for the inn he was staying at and Merlin returned to Gaius's chambers▬eager for a good night's sleep once he finished all of his chores. It left Odette and Arthur standing awkwardly in Guinevere's home, alone and very unsure on what they were to do next.

    She glanced at him in the tense silence that followed, playing with the edges of her sleeves. She found herself staring at how different he looked in a peasant's shirt▬he was uncomfortable in it; he shuffled and turned his nose up at how it must smell and itch, even with a good wash. But there was also something ... peaceful to see a Prince humbled into a peasant's clothes▬like he was just a common worker hammering the castle stone or toiling the fields. Not that she could ever imagine Arthur toiling at a field all day▬and the very thought made her want to smile, because for once he seemed at her level. Here, he wasn't Prince Arthur ... he could just be Arthur. Even if he frowned at the dust on the floor and had gone back to making a face, ridiculously confused by the crooked doors on Gwen's cupboard. 

    Until he noticed Odette was watching him. He replied with a stiff smile and nod. Immediately, she went red and looked away, dusting her skirts and searching for something to do. Neither of them said a word. And it was strange, because usually when they were alone, they always had something to say to one another▬even if it was hidden in whispers and sneaky conversations when no one was looking. But now, Odette supposed all that has very much changed. 

    And yet, unlike all of those secret moments, they were actually alone. There was no one around. It was just them. Not in his chambers, not in the castle corridors, not in Gaius's chambers▬in somebody else's home, under a domestic roof, on common ground ... where they were both guest and equals. It was a strange air to be in, and one they've never spent time with each other in before.

    And it was making Odette so flustered she was growing infuriated with herself. 

    She put herself in this situation. She should not have done that. 

    (What was she thinking?▬Obviously, she hadn't been). 

    In the end, she managed to think of something to say and blurted out: "It is getting late▬I will prepare some dinner for you."

    Arthur shot up▬he squared his shoulders and nodded his head, desperate to have something he was familiar with. Odette chose to ignore how that was someone choosing to wait on him like a servant (because you are, she reminded herself bitterly). "Yes▬yes, that would be nice. Er▬thank you, Odette."

    She nodded. More silence. Odette hurried towards Guinevere's herbs. Once her back was turned to him, she pressed her hands against the table and closed her eyes, embarrassed. 

    With something to do, Odette could ignore how suffocating it was. If she focused on preparing the stew: cutting the meat and the potatoes, stoking the fire and waiting for it to cook by the warmth▬Odette could then not focus on how she knew Arthur was trying very hard not to watch her, sitting at the table and picking at the candle or the flowers Gwen had in a small clay vase. She could stop herself from wanting to shyly glance over her shoulder to watch him, too, and then try to ignore the fact that she was blushing the entire time. 

    Dinner was worse. They did not speak. The Prince and the servant sat on opposite ends; the young handmaiden situated herself as far as possible, not comfortable in sitting at the same level as him. Even if he was dressed in a peasant's clothes and was a guest under this roof just as she was▬even if it should make them equals, it did not. And she wasn't sure whether it was because of her, because him, or because of them both. 

    Arthur glanced at her over the brim of his drink. He watched her pick at her food, taking small bites▬not even fully seated at the table. Odette was uncomfortable, he could tell, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. He cleared his throat and she jumped, meeting his gaze. She looked ready to jump to her feet▬he tried to smile, hoping it would ease whatever she was troubled about. "This is ..." he nodded down at the simple meal of meat, potatoes and stewed beans, "... nice. What is it? Lamb?"

     Odette flushed. She hid it in the waves that fell around her cheeks. "Erm..." she tossed her food around a little bit more, "... well ... I am not too sure actually ... whatever is left at the butchers, I presume."

    Arthur frowned. He tried not to sound disgusted. "Whatever is left?"

    "Well," she grew sheepish, not able to meet his gaze, "it is expensive to have the first cut of meat. But you ... you cut off the surface meat and cook away all that has gone bad over the fire, so ... it is not harmful ...?" Odette honestly wasn't quite sure whether that was true, but she was still living, and she has eaten far worse.

    The Prince glanced back down at his meal and in realising he had scoffed down all of his meat at the very start, quickly drank the rest of his water in hopes it would soothe his stomach▬he didn't even want to think about what she meant by 'whatever is left' and 'all that has gone bad'.

    As soon as he did, he decided it was best to leave this awkward conversation as quick as possible. "It has been a long day," he began to stand and just like that, Odette stopped eating▬finished when he was finished, as one must always do in the presence of a royal. She rushed to her feet. "I think I will turn in for the night."

    "Oh," Odette glanced to the curtains that led out to the back of Guinevere's home, "o▬okay▬"

    He cut her off. "Is this my bed?"

    The young handmaiden frowned, and all words left her lips as she saw him take a seat on Guinevere's bed. He ran a hand along her woollen blanket without a single thought▬already claiming it without even an answer. The bed had been offered to Odette. 

    She stammered, not sure on what to say. She wanted to tell him no, but she stopped herself. Stiff and unsure, all Odette could manage to force from her lips was: "O▬Of course, Sire." He started to take off his boots. "W▬would you like another blanket, or...?"

    "No, no," he smelt inside one of his boots and recoiled. Odette resisted the urge to turn up her own nose. "It is quite all right, Odette."

    Instead of frowning, she mustered enough curt politeness to smile. "I hope you will be comfortable."

    He did not register the tone of her voice. As he undid the belt around his tunic, Arthur sent her one, final stiff smile. "I am sure I will be."

    When he looked away, Odette took a sharp breath through her nose. Spinning on her heel, she marched towards the curtains. Ducking through and closing them harshly behind her, she finally let herself huff out a sigh of frustration.

    She wondered how she managed to grow soft for any man so infuriating and inconsiderate.

    Odette went over her alphabet in her mind, starting with arrogant and ending with vulgar. As she did, she stared at the space on the floor where she would be sleeping▬it was dirty, and it was cold; hidden behind an old, broken screen amongst canvas sacks of old armour and storage. She pursed her lips, realising with a sad breath that in a way, she felt more comfortable sleeping here than she ever wound underneath Guinevere's own blanket. 

    She found some blankets hunched up amongst the canvas, most likely for Arthur. Odette clutched them to her chest and readied herself for a night she's spent as such many times before. She felt for a soft position amongst the bags▬and when finding one that felt as if it contained material or even grain, she settled herself against it on the cold, stone floor. She snuffled up against the canvas with the thin blanket wrapped around her, her legs cuddled up to her chest and her shoulders hunched to try and keep herself warm▬and here, like this, she felt at peace. She felt like she was a little girl snuggling up for warmth on a cold floor with her mother when there was nowhere else for them to sleep, and despite it all, it was calming. 

    Odette closed her eyes, and she was prepared to dream about the days her mother was still with her, holding her close to her chest when a voice called out▬sheepish▬into the darkness of Guinevere's home:

    "Good▬er▬good night, Odette."

    Her eyes snapped open and▬incredulous▬she glanced back over her shoulder to peer through the crack in the curtains. There, she saw Arthur frowning to himself and his pillow, sprawled out on his stomach with his arms hanging over the ends of the bed. All frustration faded away, and Odette found herself fighting back a dubious smile at the sight. 

    When she said nothing in reply, she glimpsed him straining his neck to try and see where she had gone▬Odette quickly looked away. She chewed on her bottom lip, going red at the cheeks. She huddled up even more, confused and yet warm to the heart as she awkwardly answered: "Good night, My Lord?"

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    THE NEXT MORNING she left early; quiet as dawn spared a glance through the curtained windows of Guinevere Smith's home. Odette made sure she stayed silent, careful not to wake the snoring Prince of Camelot as he rested the morning away in the bed she was supposed to have. She dressed herself in a light-weighted dress and shawl, preparing herself for a day out at the Jousting Tournament. Odette crept out from the screen and drapes she hid behind and stopped for a moment, biting back her was to laugh at the sight of Arthur Pendragon. He was still sprawled out on his stomach and snoring into the pillow▬she believed nothing would wake him. She decided she will start this day with a fresh mindset. Does it truly matter if he had the bed instead of her? He perhaps very well needed it if he was competing ... and he looked so gentle, lying there ... Odette blushed and thought no more of it. She was only making this experience (one that she very well knew she placed herself into▬it was her own fault, she knew) worse. She decided to leave him a breakfast of sliced bread and cheese before stepping out of the home; stepping into her daily life▬not a soul taking a moment to even wonder why she left the late blacksmith's home, or to hear the snoring Prince inside. 

    She was excited for the tournament. Odette couldn't hide it. She barely made it through her morning errands, almost bubbling and bursting with her desperation to rush down to the stands▬for once not to sit at her mistress's side, but amongst the peasants and within the depths of the stands where she will cheer and wave her flag with the rest of the city. 

    And when she could finally make her leave and run to the growing crowd that filled the stands along the vast length of banners, Odette was met with a gregarious thrill. She held a bright grin as she climbed up into the stands, her flag clasped tight in her palm as she politely slipped her way to a seat near the front of the commoners' aisles. It was different than sitting near the King's box, but there was something very bright and ecstatic to be amongst some of the loudest and most boisterous of the spectators▬those who loved a good jousting strike and a good felled knight from his horse. 

    She leaned a little over the edge, trying to see down through the many tents that were shadowed under the citadel turrets and castle walls▬another city within a city full of bright striped colours. She felt her hair blow a little in the wind and Odette rushed to tuck it back behind her ears, not wanting to miss a single moment. 

    As the King arrived, everyone who was seated stood onto their feet▬the horns blared, announcing his presence and the start of the tournament. As soon as he sat down, there were cheers as the Knights all followed on their mighty steeds into the arena. Odette cheered a little louder, clapping her hands and waving her flag when she noticed William amongst the line-up, looking very much out of place as he shifted, awkward, in his saddle. She found him searching for her in the crowd and when he noticed her, he managed a slight grin and wave. She giggled, subtly waving back (and knowing Arthur must be wanting to throw his hands in frustration at their antics inside the tent). 

    The crowd died down to silence filled with bated breaths when the King spoke to his contestants: "Knights of the realm, welcome to Camelot. You have trained for this day for many years."

    Odette pressed her chin to her chest, biting back smiles as William tried to shush his horse that started to shuffle around on the field. The gelding threw his head.

    "Today, you will fight for glory and for honour▬for this is the ultimate test of courage and it will be your measure of you as men." The King eyed William, incredulous as his horse continued to paw the ground. "For only the most skilful," he continued, "the most fearless among you will emerge as a worthy champion."

    Cheers erupted forth as he finished his introductory speech. Odette waved her flag again, whistling with delight while William struggled to turn his horse and travel off the field. The other Knights had to veer around him, each and every one giving him a strange look that only made her chuckle. 

    Though her chuckles turned into excited, hitched breaths as the Knights all disappeared, and from the tents emerged Sir William in full armour▬his helmet covering the face of a man who was not Sir William at all. And if the keen eye watched closely, they could see the broader build, the sturdier, and yet slightly smaller height of the Knight that sat rigid in his saddle▬they'd see the pair of blue eyes narrow ambitiously through the brim of his helm under flaxen hair; they'd see a man determined to prove himself worthy. 

    Odette chewed her bottom lip, her heart pacing with anticipation as the crowd began to murmur to silence. She watched Arthur steady his gelding opposite his first opponent, Sir James Felling, the second-born son of Lord Felling who resided in one of Camelot's villages on the southern border. 

    Their horses tested the ground and kicked their tails. Arthur twisted his grip on his lance that stood tall at his side. The flag bearer flung the red banner down and sprinted off the field▬and just like that, the Jousting Tournament began.

    Without a moment wasted, Arthur urged his horse onwards at a gallop▬headstrong towards his opponent who surged forwards at the same speed. Odette held her breath as she watched their lances point forward, awaiting the moment one of them would make contact▬

    The shattering of wood against iron made Odette jump, but she soon gasped a bright grin as Arthur galloped through victorious. He raised his broken lance to the light▬the entire crowd cheered in celebration; their cries doubled the moment Sir Felling hit the ground hard, knocked right off his saddle.

    She clapped her hands vigorously, softly bouncing on her toes and waving her flag as Arthur paraded once before disappearing back within the surrounding festivities. 

    As soon as the felled Knight was taken off for a physician's aid did the next pair trot onto the field. Jousting was a ruthless game▬it was dangerous and yet it was thrilling in some of the worst ways possible. Sometimes, it was how the Knight knocked their opponent off their horse that made them the favourite of the crowd. Odette gasped and she cringed and she looked away, but as soon as she did, she was back to cheer and clap loudly at each victory. Lances were shattered; wood splintered against their helms, snapped in two from the impact they sent to their shoulders and chests▬girths broke, horses reared back and Knights were dragged on the ground with their feet still caught in their stirrups. 

    And the people of Camelot consumed it all with stampedes of applause. 

    Each time Arthur returned, Odette's attention was grabbed and her breath was stuck in the back of her throat. She leaned forward, rising on the tips of her toes to try and see better as soon as she saw the purple tunic beneath his armour. Not one Knight could fell him▬he rode victorious from each round. She jumped high at each one, laughing and clapping her hands with both a cry of relief and celebration. Until others stared at her strangely and she calmed down, quickly clearing her throat and shaking her hair away from her face to applaud gently as a lady should. 

    And each time he left, she was still watching him go, holding back a small smile to herself that she hid behind the fabric of her flag. Odette couldn't help but take a moment to admire just how handsome Arthur seemed in his armour and on his horse; a Prince basked in sunlight. 

    The first day of the Tournament came to an end in the late afternoon with Sir Alynor joining Arthur and Sir Leon▬among many others▬into the next round initiating on the second day. By the end of it, everyone was hot and they were flustered, but they were still filled with an eagerness to see more▬they could be out there until night fall to see men be felled off their horses; jousting has and always will be a favourite form of entertainment in the city. 

    Odette was excited to head back to Guinevere's home. She tried to rush through her list of things to do for Morgana, listening to her rave on about the new and mysterious Sir William who had soon become a crowd favourite. She bit back her want to chuckle, wondering how Morgana would feel if she knew she was gushing about Arthur without knowing to the other ladies of the court. She and Gwen had a swift laugh about it afterwards when she didn't hear them.

    She left when evening came, and it was strange for her. Odette felt out of place, walking down the castle stairs with food she had secretly taken from the kitchens, hidden in her basket instead of preparing Morgana for bed or sleeping under the thin blankets in the servants' quarters. She has spent her days like that for so long▬day after day, until it has surely become the very foundation of her life. Her life was for Morgana, never quite for herself, and while Odette never minded and never thought it could be any different ... now that she was given the chance to walk back to something after a hard day's work ... it was unsettling to realise that for many, it was normal. That to have a home ... a bed and a table, cupboards and sheets; a roof over ones head and a place to rest...

    It was easy for Odette to wish that she truly was going home to somewhere, and not just heading off to complete another job. To imagine a better life▬one that she knew she will never have. 

    Once she reached Gwen's home, she carefully glanced around her before knocking on the door. She waited a few moments before stepping inside, looking around to see where Arthur was. she found him sitting silently▬and rather awkwardly▬at Guinevere's table, uncomfortable and with nothing to do. It was dark▬he hadn't even lit the candles.

    As soon as she stepped inside, he sat up▬he drummed his fingers on the table and turned to face her. "Odette," he greeted, "there you are!"

    She gave him a quizzical frown, tugging at the strings of her cloak with one hand▬easily pulling it from her shoulders and hanging it up on the hook hammered into the wood of the door. "Sire ..." she greeted slowly, wandering over to where he stood. She set down the basket and squinted through the darkness. "Did you not think to light the candles?"

    Arthur frowned back at her, confused as to why she would ask such a question. "Well▬I presumed you would be here to light them after the Tournament."

    Odette stopped halfway in unfolding the fabric within her basket. A sudden spike of annoyance lit up within her and her jaw set▬she took a sharp breath through her nose, trying her very best to ignore it. She knew he didn't mean it that way▬he didn't know any better. She was a servant, and he was a Prince; in the castle, she should have been here to serve him, but this was not the castle, and he was determined not to be a Prince. 

    So it annoyed her that despite this, he still expected her to answer to him as if that weren't the case.

    But instead of scowling and starting an argument, Odette swallowed it all down and muttered: "Sorry, I had to tend to Morgana. I will light then now."

    She left her basket on the table and went to find a tinder box; as soon as she did, Arthur leaned forward to check for himself what was inside. He pulled back the fabric before she got the chance to say anything and frowned in pure disbelief: "Are those strawberries?"

    Odette spun back around, halfway through preparing to light a flame using some char cloth. "Er▬" she flushed bright pink, watching him immediately peer at one and wait it before looking inside the basket for more. Odette slumped, a little exasperated with him▬he didn't even ask. "Yes."

    "Where did you get them?" He scoffed down another.

    The young maidservant pursed her lips, lighting a quick flame before carefully transferring it over onto a wooden split from Gwen's collection. "Uh ..." she tried to explain herself as she did. "Well▬I mean▬I like strawberries."

     Arthur frowned at her as he ate his third. "That is not the answer to my question."

     "Is it not?" Odette walked over to light the candle on the table, refusing to meet his gaze that watched her intently.

     "No," he told her suspiciously. "It is not."

     Walking over to the next called, the handmaiden answered very softly and very quickly: "I▬er▬found them in the palace kitchens."

     But Arthur heard her. He pulled away the strawberry on its way into his mouth to stare at her, taken aback. "You stole these from the palace kitchens?"

    Bright red, she quickly shot over her shoulder: "I did not steal them."

    The Prince made a face at her, incredulous at her response. "Then what are they doing here?"

    "I cannot explain▬"

    "Odette."

    At the way he said her name, she closed her eyes. She winced to herself before blowing out the flame and turning back around to face him. He was mid-gesture, gazing at her in the way that both infuriated her and made her cheeks burn even redder▬as if he was trying very hard not to chuckle at her; a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Are you stealing from my father's kitchens?" he asked her again.

    She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "No▬" she rushed back off towards the counter. She did not say it was usually Merlin that stole them from his breakfast platters▬Odette supposed she should give him at least one break from torment. She heard Arthur breath a light chuckle behind her, turning back to the strawberries without another word about them. Odette smiled to herself▬unable to stop it. He was infuriating, and then he wasn't, and then he was infuriating all over again, but in a different way▬she could barely handle it. 

    "I..." Odette found herself admitting in a mumble: "I thought I would get them for a celebration ... You▬you were great today, in the Tournament ..."

    She kept staring at the bread on the counter, a little too scared to shyly glance over and see Arthur's reaction. But she knew he was watching her▬she could feel his gaze on her back, and it burned through her. When she found enough courage to risk a glimpse, she caught him smily softly to himself▬and it was so delicate, so gentle; a part of him she felt no one else saw. 

    They ate together again▬some simple bread and pottage. It wasn't as awkward as the first night was, but it was still very strange. Odette was not balancing on the edge of the seat, but instead closer to the centre, quietly tearing off her bread and dipping it into her soup. There was no conversation between them for a long time▬both were very unsure on what to say, even if there was plenty they wanted to speak about. They were quite unsure how to talk to each other anymore. Odette wanted to tell Arthur how all the other Knights went and how Morgana was talking about him back in her chambers without truly knowing it was him. He wanted to tell her he looked for her in the crowd. He wanted to tell her that he saved a strawberry for her▬that he was grateful at the gesture, having never really had someone do something like that for him before; even if it was so small. He wanted to tell her that he liked the flowers in her hair. But he didn't. 

    Arthur knew, of course, that he couldn't. That whatever he felt for Odette could not be indulged▬that the kiss he gave her when he had woken up from his deep slumber, realising that he could have died was just a moment that could never happen again. He couldn't gaze at her and let himself be lost in his thoughts at the girl he used to find terribly annoying, but now saw someone who was dutiful▬who's opinions and beliefs were often in line with his when it came to what sort of King he wanted to be. He saw how much she cared, how determined she was▬all that infuriating stubbornness had turned into admiration for her standing up in Ealdor to advocate for the women of the village; how they had nodded and listened to her. How they had followed her and came to stand at her side. He had always cared about Odette, but now ... this was something very different, and it pained him to know it could never be. 

    Finally, Odette broke the silence as she finished her meal. "Erm▬I hear the ladies of the court are quite impressed with Sir William." An amused smile lifted her cheeks. "They all think he is very handsome."

    Arthur scoffed a chuckle and Odette's smile brightened for a moment. He shook his head, setting down his drink to laugh. "Typical," he said. "They would not know a real Knight if he whacked them 'round the head with his lance."

    Odette looked down at the table as she pursed her lips to hide the bright smile on her face. "And If I were to tell you it was Morgana?"

    Immediately, Arthur pretended to gag into his drink and she truly did laugh this time▬it was such a ridiculous, childish reaction that made her light in the chest to think that after everything, there were some parts of the Prince that never changed. "Odette," he chided her as she continued to laugh. "There are some things you say and some things you do not say▬that is one of those things."

    "I thought you would be rather smug about it."

    He made a face at her and she burst into a few more light giggles. 

    Slowly, the Prince and the servant quietened down; their laughter turning into soft smiles at each other that never could last long enough in the others' gaze. But the air between them as they sat at the table wasn't quite so tense anymore. Strangely, Odette started to feel comfortable▬somehow, sitting in someone else's home and eating under someone else's roof, she started to feel at ease purely because Arthur was the one eating across from her. 

     When silence settled between them once more, Odette's amusement fell away and she asked the question that had been flooding her mind from the very beginning: "Why are you doing this?"

    Arthur met her gaze, a little surprised by the sudden change of conversation. Her brows lifted a little, soft as she waited for his answer. He took a short breath before starting to trace his fingers along the patterns in the old wood of Gwen's table. "I fear that people respect me just because of my title."

    Odette frowned at this. It wasn't the answer she was expecting. At first, she and Gwen had rolled their eyes and muttered to themselves at how ridiculous this decision was▬that the reason behind it would be equally as ridiculous. But hearing it now, all that left her and was replaced with a heavy feeling in her chest. Did Arthur truly think that the people of this Kingdom respect, love and were loyal to him just because he was the Prince? Perhaps it was hard for her to imagine anything else, because she always respected him for everything he has done, not because of the title he was born with. 

    "I do not believe that is true of everyone?" she decided to say.

    He arched a brow at her briefly. "Would you tell me if it were?"

    She considered it for a moment, then admitted: "No."

    Arthur glanced up and she smiled sweetly. He seemed to understand what she meant▬of course, he knew what she meant. Odette seemed to be one of the few he could trust, deep inside him, without any doubt to always be loyal to him. Because she seemed to think he was worth it. He did not know why, he did not know how he managed to make her feel like this▬to think he was so great, but he knew that she would never tell him that no one ever respect him for no other reason than his title. Because, Odette believed like she believed in the sunrise▬and maybe it was a naive belief▬that everyone felt the same way: that they respected him because they were sure of the great King she thought he will one day become. 

    And so, Prince Arthur opened up to the Lady Morgana's second handmaiden with such ease, sometimes it scared him▬he didn't let it this time. 

    "When I am competing as William, my title does not matter," explained Arthur. Odette listened, watching him carefully. "Nobody gives me any special treatment. So, when I win this Tournament▬" he stopped and backtracked, "▬if I win this Tournament ... it will be because I deserve it ... not because I am Prince Arthur."

    Odette wished to say something, but she was unable to. Her brows furrowed, hearing his words again in her mind like a hymn▬swelling in her chest and warming her heart. It wasn't humble, and yet at the same time, it was▬he was almost selfless in such a way that he couldn't be. But he was fighting for approval in a way that didn't need himself to be paraded around with the Camelot crest upon his chest▬but in a way that was for him and for no one else, so he could be sure he was capable. That he had the right to be respected. He was seeking approval from the people that mattered the most to him: his people. 

    Arthur was far from perfect, she knew this. He wasn't some perfect, selfless, humble and blissful man who bowed his head and was everything Odette has heard stories about. Arthur was prideful, and sometimes he got angry and lashed out. He didn't always think and still found it hard to distance his ideas from his father's, or to understand that he could. But he was noble, he was chivalrous▬he fought for what he believed in: Camelot. And when he did, that was what made him kind; what made him be selfless and what made him different than any other Prince or King▬what made him Arthur. 

    He was a good man. He had a good heart no matter what. 

    She hadn't realised she was staring until Arthur cleared his throat and forced himself to look away from her. He stood up. "I think I will take a bath."

    Odette blinked, shaken from her daze. It took her a moment to stand as well, stammering for a moment as she watched him stretch out his shoulders and arms. "Uh▬well▬erm▬you see, that might be difficult, seeing as Guinevere does not have a bath tub."

    Arthur frowned at her, finding this absurd. "Really?"

    She just shook her head. 

    "Oh," the Prince continued to stretch, moving around the room as he thought. "Perhaps you could prepare me a bowl of hot water?" He scoffed lightly. "I take it Guinevere has a bowl?"

    And just like that, Odette went back to wanting to smack his kneecaps with one of his blades. She wanted to scream▬how does she have feelings for a man who says one thing one moment, and then is so frustrating the next? She huffed, clenching her fists so tight her nails dug into her palm. All admiration swept away▬carried in a wind to somewhere far away. Her disappointment was disguised by a flooding anger; for just in the matter of seconds, the man who said he cared little for title turned to her with the demands for a servant. Odette was happy to serve him ... she was happy to serve her Prince, but not in such a way that made her feel so small. And that made her livid. 

    Hoping to burn holes in the back of his head, Odette snapped: "I believe I can manage a bowl."

    He didn't spare her a second glance. Odette fumed. Chest heaving, she stormed to the door and snatched her cloak from the hook. Throwing it over her shoulders, she grumbled: "I suppose you expect me to walk all the way down to the well in the night▬alone▬and fetch you some water?"

    He wasn't listening. Odette scowled as he stretched out his shoulders one last time before she spun on her heels and marched out of the home. 

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     a/n: I love this episode, can you tell? I hope it's okay, I already had it prewritten and I've switched up a few things and edited it a little bit, but if there's a bit of a gap in continuity with how my writing has developed in this story that is why. 

    odette saying she will never speak to Arthur and then literally throwing herself into this situation is so unhinged-me-simp coded I don't even blame her for it. 

    girl's feelings for him are such a rollercoaster this chapter like Arthur pls give her a break-

   (oh, girl, you are not ready for his white shirt era).

    long chapter so I'll keep this author's note short. love you all <3333333