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Summary
“What do you mean? Merlin isn’t here.”
Morgana continued to scrutinize him, drinking in his cluelessness. When he caught her staring, her brow quirked in amusement.
This was a game to her, Arthur realized with a start. A twisted, terrible game and he had walked right into her trap. An awful feeling blossomed in the pit of his stomach.
“Merlin isn’t here.” He said again, carefully enunciating every word.
The sentence was short and horrible.
“Oh, but isn’t he?”
Or
Merlin dies and makes everything infinitely more complicated in the process.