Merlin snorted. “Extension of goodwill you say? Most people would label it correctly and call it spying. Or are you here to mourn the loss of a kingdom that will never be yours?”
Morgause smiled widely, but Britt could hear the queen’s teeth grind. “Oh, Merlin, how silly you’ve become in your old age.”
Britt frowned as she studied her knights while Merlin and Morgause bickered. A few of the men closest to the royal huddle watched Morgause with bright eyes and enamored smiles. “Boys,” Britt muttered in disgust. If she got Nymue in the throne room she could probably make her knights—the majority of them being young and unmarried—roll over and bark like dogs.
“—plan to welcome you to Camelot tonight with a grand feast, isn’t that right, Arthur?” Merlin said.
“Of course,” Britt automatically replied, smiling as she returned her attention to Morgause and Merlin.
“That is so kind of you,” Morgause gushed, “to try and match the splendor of Orkney to make me feel welcome.”
Merlin’s smile was so big his eyes were mere slits. “Of course,” he said. “Although the feast is not until this evening I would assume you and the young princes would like to retire to your rooms to freshen up? You are not as young as you used to be, it will take you longer to prepare for such an occasion.”
“Old age has treated you well, Merlin. You have become so thoughtful! I can see how you secured the position of court magician,” Morgause laughed.
“Chief counselor.”
“Come now, we both know it is the same role.”
Merlin and Morgause the frenemies beamed at each other as Morgause’s sons spoke in their lilting, breathless language.
“This is going to be a long feast,” Britt sighed.
Chapter 2
Paying a Social Call
Britt observed her tablemates over the rim of her goblet of spiced wine. The only real friends seated at the royal table with her on the dais were Merlin and Cavall—and Cavall was stealthily hidden at Britt’s feet. The rest of the places were taken by Morgause and her sons.
Gawain, who was sitting just past his mother, tilted his head his head and caught Britt’s eye. Britt nodded to him and slightly raised her goblet in acknowledgement, immediately wishing she hadn’t.
The Orkney prince spoke, still talking in the lilting gibberish Britt couldn’t understand. Britt nervously laughed and chugged her wine to avoid having to answer the prince. When she looked up he was still watching her, obviously expecting an answer of some sort.
Britt glanced to Merlin—who was wrapped up in talking/exchanging insults with Morgause—but the enchanter purposely ignored her. He seemed to think the best way to cover up the fact that Britt couldn’t understand a word Morgause’s sons spoke was to refrain from acknowledging it.
Britt, feeling lost, looked back at Gawain. He repeated his question and this time gestured below the table.
“That is Cavall. He was a gift given to me by my foster brother, Sir Kay,” Britt said.
Gawain’s shoulders slumped and he returned his gaze to his pewter plate.
“I guess that isn’t what he asked,” Britt muttered before sipping her wine again. She lacked the appetite to eat.
“I am glad to see you conversing with my sons, My Lord,” Morgause smiled. Her lips were the deep red of a waxed, red delicious apple.
“Yes,” Britt said, glancing at Agravain, Gaheris, and Gareth. “They seem to be capable boys,” Britt said before sipping her wine.
“I hope they find favor with you. They are, after all, your nephews,” Morgause said.
Britt choked on her drink and coughed until she could manage another sip. “Pardon?”
Morgause took a bite of stag swimming in a plum sauce Britt normally avoided. “They are your nephews, and naturally your heirs, as you are my half brother—if Merlin’s story of your true parentage can be trusted.”
Britt snapped her head to look at Merlin so quickly she almost gave herself whiplash. “Half brother? My heirs?” she carefully repeated.
Merlin was no help as he had also been taken by a fit of coughing at Morgause’s proclamation.
“You mean he didn’t tell you?” Morgause said, her voice false and coy. “We share the same mother, Igraine. She birthed myself and my two sisters years before she met Uther, had you, and became Uther’s wife.”
Merlin finally found his voice. “What are you getting at, Morgause?”
“Nothing, I am merely explaining our family connections to my dear half brother,” Morgause said.
Britt thought for a moment before carefully replying. “I am overjoyed to learn this. I greatly treasure my relationship with my foster parents and brother, I hope we can reach the same level of affection as I have for them.”
Merlin muttered under his breath, but Morgause laughed. “How quaint, yes I hope so as well.”
“Gawain is not Arthur’s heir,” Merlin said.