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As a princess, Mithian knew as soon as she could form thoughts, that her life was not her own. A princess's life belonged to the people, to be a princess was to be of service, was to never be able to fail. To be a princess was to let the world judge and dissect you, while knowing they’d barely even scratched the surface of the real you.
Mithian was used to being scrutinised, to being watched. But to be used to something did not make it hurt less so… Though Mithian was a woman now and not a fragile little princess anymore—she’d accepted that her life revolved around fulfilling certain tasks. Her duties, her very own delicate burden.
Mithian took a sip from her cup, and tried to keep her mind on the task ahead: the wooing of a king. She didn’t mind this one as much as she thought she would; King Arthur was quite charming, he certainly was the most genuine of her suitors. But this thing they were doing—wearing a veil to reveal her beauty, laughing with crinkly eyes and laying a hand on the king’s torso while he complimented her—was merely a staged play, something she had rehearsed her whole life.
Though King Arthur adorably stumbled around his compliment, Mithian’s attention lay elsewhere. Her eyes and her smile were for him, but her thoughts were somewhere else. Mithian had perfected the act of splitting her attention.
In the middle of the crowd that was her stage, there were eyes so intently focussed on her, they bore a hole through her thoughts, distracting her from her task. Two pairs of eyes, one she knew to be Merlin, the king’s servant. He was wary of her, maybe out of a sense of duty, she could sense his protectiveness and loyalty clearly. She could appreciate that. The other pair, though, she did not know. With only a quick glance she had seen his deep brown eyes, mysterious and calculating and just a little wild. Captivating.
“Do you like them?” King Arthur’s voice brought her out of her thoughts and she realised she had been so distracted by soulful eyes that she hadn’t paid attention to him anymore. Mithian internally scolded herself, she knew better than to stray from the task ahead. She deepened her already set smile softly and tried to remember what the conversation had been about… Her mind stayed blank…so she nodded and could only hope she wasn’t agreeing to something unseemly for a princess.
If this were to be her new household, Mithian would make sure to make herself comfortable here and hopefully loved. The picnic with King Arthur went well and she found she really liked him; she didn’t feel like she needed to pretend much with him, he was quite amusing and loveable. So to make her household comfortable she had given herself three tasks, as she roamed the corridors in her free time while everyone got ready for the hunt later today, she set about completing these tasks.
The first task was in the shape of a servant boy, Merlin; she had observed him and she could tell there was a certain complicity between him and Arthur, she had shown a true part of her vulnerability in this whole ordeal, confronted him on his dislike of her, and luckily he had promised to give her a chance. Mithian liked Merlin, she had given a piece of her heart to him and despite his hesitancy, he had held it in his hands with caution. Mithian could only hope, like the pieces she had given Arthur during their lunch, that they would not crush it and throw it away…
Now Mithian found herself roaming the corridors to corners far from her own chambers. When she made a left, a couple of knights came out of the armoury, ready for the upcoming hunt. Mithian smiled sweetly and soulful brown eyes locked with hers briefly.
“Forgive me good sirs, I seem to have lost my way, this castle is an absolute maze.”
The small group of knights all gave a quick bow and Sir Leon’s gentle smile reached her peripheral vision. “Would you like me to accompany you back to your chambers?”
Mithian gave him a quick glance with a gentle smile then made her eyebrows go up and took a step closer to the object of her second task. “Oh, I don’t think we’ve met, sir...”
“Elyan, Your Highness.” The man took her offered hand and kissed it, his lips barely scraping the surface of her hand.
“I did not have the pleasure of meeting you at my welcoming ceremony.” Mithian quite enjoyed the little squirm her words pulled out of Sir Elyan. It had been obvious to her that he was one of Arthur’s closest knights. All of which—she thought—had been presented to her. Well before those warm brown eyes had bored into her soul. Mithian was determined to get to the bottom of this. Merlin she had understood, but what was so special about a single knight on a round table full of them?
“Apologies, Your Highness, I was recovering from an illness.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, her eyebrow raised in plain disbelief. “Well then, won’t you honour me with your presence and walk me to my room?”
Sir Elyan froze into place and his eyes flickered to his fellow knights in hesitance. Like a cry for help.
“I would love to,” he said. Of course, she knew, he didn’t mean it. Mithian was properly pissed, but she reigned it in. What could possibly be so horrible about her?
Mithian looped her hand on his offered arm and they were on the way. Though annoyed, Mithian couldn’t help melting a little bit at the touch, Sir Elyan radiated warmth, it was infuriatingly comfortable.
“Tell me sir knight, have you made a full recovery from your illness?”
“Quite so.”
“I’m happy to hear, then I’ll be seeing you at the hunt later.”
It would’ve been hard to miss, but she had leaned into the warmth of his embrace so closely that she had felt Sir Elyan’s body halt for a small moment. Mithian predicted he had not meant to join the hunt.
“Right, of course… May I ask you something?” Mithian nodded. “Do you really enjoy hunting?”
She chuckled. “Indeed I do. I’d even say I’m quite good. Does that surprise you?”
“A little, it’s just, you seem…”
“What? Come now, don’t be shy, speak your mind.”
There was a small smile forming at the corner of his lips and Mithian took it as a victory.
“I simply meant that Her Highness looks like a very well refined lady.”
She snorted, he should have seen her at the picnic with Arthur. Sure Mithian knew how to be the perfect princess, and part of giving into Arthur’s awkward burps had been her adapting to the situation to complete her duty, but part of it had been freedom. Just like this hunting proposal. Her mother had taught her everything that she needed to know to be a perfect princess, the image of a good kingdom, a tool for her people. But her mother had also taught her how to breathe in the middle of fulfilling the task of being perfect. They had gone riding together and hunting, walking out of the castle doors as two proper ladies going out for a lovely picnic.
“Can’t a refined lady enjoy a good hunt?”
“I meant no disrespect, I was simply surprised.”
They stopped in front of her chambers and soulful eyes bore into her. Her eyebrow rose. “What?”
Elyan shrugged. “There’s just something about you”—he took a step back—“sorry,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it softly while he bowed. “I’ll be seeing you at the hunt then, I look forward to seeing your skills.” This time, the words felt earnest.; and as swift as the wind, Sir Elyan was gone before Mithian could detach herself from the mesmer his eyes seemed to have put her in.
Mithian was furious. Had she made a mistake to let herself relax around Arthur? To have revealed a part of her heart… Was it truly a mistake to just be herself for once? The task ahead had been put to the sidelines, as Mithian had genuinely taken joy in spending time with the King of Camelot. He was awkward and fun, but Arthur had given her the cold shoulder, rejected her, rejected the real her…
The hunting party was still cleaning up all of the supplies to travel back to the citadel. Mithian felt like she couldn’t breathe and needed to leave immediately. She saw Sir Elyan standing there looking her way, face blank. Mithian didn’t think she needed to say anything, she looked into his eyes, with all her fury and sadness. She held her head high, her stance that of the entitled princess she had been often accused of. Sir Elyan sighed and went to retrieve their horses.
“I will be escorting the princess back to Camelot ahead of the party.” Nobody reacted, nobody even looked up from what they were doing, nobody dared to intervene. Her displeasure was palpable.
The ride was done in silence, Mithian brooding like when she was a child and was told she couldn’t play outside with the maid’s childrens. When words settled in the pit of her stomach in danger of getting spitted out like a dragon spits fire, Mithian had thought herself to brood. Because if she had to be the perfect princess, once in a while, they ought to at least feel her displeasure, her wrath, her sadness…
“You and Merlin must be so relieved,” she finally said, once they had arrived and dismounted, she did not hide the bitterness in her voice.
“Merlin?” Sir Elyan’s look went from confused to understanding, and almost—Mithian scoffed at the idea—apologetic. “I do not wish you unhappiness, Your Highness.”
“Just not happiness with your king. So, you knew her well? I'm not a fool, I can tell Arthur had someone, I'm assuming you and Merlin knew her well.”
Sir Elyan sighed. “Very well…or so I thought. She was…” When Mithian looked into his eyes, her own couldn’t help but soften, his eyes held the mist in them… “She’s very caring and sweet, and well, she’s my—'' His lips closed then slightly parted again as if ready to say more than he was, before they closed again and his eyes seemed to search hers.
“I know this place in the royal gardens that’s perfect for a discreet crossbow practice, would you like to join me?”
It had been the last thing she had expected of him, that it left her speechless. Mithian nodded and Sir Elyan gently took her hand and placed it on top of his bicep, escorting her back into the castle, along the armoury and back out to the gardens. The walk had been done at a slow pace, both looking like he was simply escorting her back to her chambers. While her face had been carefully neutral, Mithian was giddy with excitement. It made her feel like the times she would sneak out of the kingdom’s ground with her mother to explore the forest and go riding.
When they arrived at Elyan’s secret spot he took up the crossbow he’d slung along and pointed at a practice target set a few metres away. It had quite a few arrows on them, most close but not quite reaching the center, while one stood proudly on the bullseye.
“I’m not quite the achieved archer yet, but Sir Leon has betted with me, when I finally hit bullseye—that’s his arrow right there in the middle—he’ll switch rooms with me,” he raised an eyebrow, “his are much nicer, you see.”
Mithian couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “This is ridiculous!”
Sir Elyan looked at her curiously. She took the crossbow out of his hands, got into her best shooting position, aimed, breathed in deeply just once, and as her breath left her body, shot the arrow…splitting the arrow previously in the bullseye all the way to the tip…
A sound of surprise left Elyan as she turned back to him with a smirk. “You’re good,” he said breathlessly, “like, spectacular.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I thought the knights of Camelot were a legendary force, if this little thing impresses you I despair to think this was the protection I'd have married into.”
Then a most peculiar and delighted sound left Elyan’s mouth: he laughed, hand placed tightly on his belly like the laughter was soaring and would escape out of him if he didn’t hold it firm. It was most beautiful, and it was directed at her…
“You’re laughing.” she said, a hint of wonder in her voice, “so I can do something right after all?”
His laughter calmed down as he stared at her thoughtfully. “I'm sorry if I've offended you and acted unwelcoming.”
Mithian sighed and looked at her wringing hands. “You didn't. Well, you did offend me,” she chuckled, her nose starting to clog up slightly. “You were very polite. But the eyes don’t lie. I mistook it for judgement at first; but it’s clear to see now, it was pain and conflict.” She sniffed and sighed, she wondered when she would stop feeling like a little girl… “I wish people were fond of me like you all seem to be of this woman.”
“I am,” he said, his voice a caress more than a sound.
Mithian frowned, wiping a treacherous tear away. “What?”
“Fond of you.” His eyes looked golden in the late summer sun.
She tried to gulp down the lump in her throat. Her voice came out like a whisper in the wind. “You barely know me...”
“You hide it well. But like you said, eyes don’t lie. You’re a wild thing princess, and like calls to like.”