“Merlin,” she smiled.
“Sorry to interrupt your lessons, dear girl, but I’m afraid we have more important ones at the moment,” the old wizard said, sipping at a mug of cream-topped cocoa. “First, tell me: Do you want whipped cream in your chocolate? Provided my hat complies. A third mug of cocoa might be too much to ask. He’s been rather insubordinate of late, insisting on a minimum wage and a month of paid vacation—”
“A ‘third’?” asked Agatha, confused. “But there’s only you and me here.”
“Goodness, you two really do have a hard time seeing eye to eye, don’t you?” Merlin murmured.
He leaned back, revealing a boy sitting next to him, who’d been obscured by the wizard’s profile.
Tedros didn’t look at Agatha. He held his own undrunk mug of chocolate, heaped with cream and rainbow sprinkles, his bare legs dangling off the cloud. He wore a sleeveless white undershirt and pajama shorts, his gold king’s crown sunken into his wet hair.
“Agatha and I have work to do, Merlin. Not that you would know since you’ve been gone for half a year, but we’re in charge of a kingdom now,” Tedros said, dumping his steaming mug over the cloud. “Our coffers are empty. We have no knights. Mother and Lance are missing. There’s unrest all over the Woods. We don’t have time for a wizard’s games.”
“You used to share your chocolate with Agatha. Now you’re wasting it,” Merlin upbraided him.
“I didn’t ask for chocolate,” said Tedros, yanking his crown tighter. “I’m too old to be bribed with sweets.”
“But not too old to let your dear princess go hungry?” Merlin asked.
“I’m stuffed from dinner,” said Agatha, trying to play both sides.
“Where’s the girl’s cocoa!” the wizard bellowed into his hat.
“You can’t keep me here all night,” Tedros scorned. “Air’s too thin in the Celestium.”
“I can keep you here until you’re as white-haired as me. I’ll just turn you into a goldfish and put you in a bowl. Agatha can feed you,” said Merlin, giving his hat a good shake. “That is if she doesn’t dump your food off a cloud.”
The hat spat chocolate at Merlin, who promptly sat on the hat in return. “Now let’s begin,” the wizard harrumphed.
“Begin what?” asked Agatha.
“We don’t need this, Merlin,” Tedros hounded.
“Need what?” asked Agatha.
“You need this more than your obsessive workouts and overdeveloped stomach muscles,” said Merlin, sitting harder on his squirming hat.
“You don’t know anything about me anymore,” Tedros snapped. “You disappeared when I needed you like you always do, haven’t sent so much as a postcard in six months, and then drop in acting like you can help me when you don’t have the faintest clue. Just go back to whatever hole you were hiding in.”
“Because you were doing such a fine job as king without me,” said the wizard.
Tedros snarled. “My father was right to banish you from the castle.”
“Well, you’re certainly seeming more and more like him each day,” said Merlin.
“Stop it! You’re like squabbling hens, the both of you!” Agatha yelled, echoing into the night. “What is this? What are we doing? Why are we here!”
The two men gaped at her sheepishly.
But it was the hat that spoke from beneath Merlin’s rump, scowling at them all—
“Couples therapy!”
6
TEDROS
Two Theories
Somewhere inside, Tedros knew this would happen. He couldn’t continue the way he’d been going, treating Agatha like a distant cousin while wrestling his own demons down down down into the basement of his soul.
These past six months, he’d told himself it was the only way forward—that Agatha was best left to the hopeful, happy duties of wedding planning while he reassured his castle staff that Camelot would return to glory. But he could only lie to himself for so long. There was nothing reassuring about his guards looking at him with pity and doubt, their eyes darting to his sword jammed in a balcony. And there was nothing hopeful or happy about a princess planning a wedding to a boy who was doing everything he could to avoid her.
Someone had to intervene. Someone had to save him from himself. But now it was happening and he wasn’t ready.
The worst part was that he’d been through this before—only he’d been the one ignored and abandoned. He’d been the one in Agatha’s place.
He was nine years old. His mother had fled the castle with Lancelot, deserting both him and his father. But right when he needed his dad most, his father turned to drink instead, slowly poisoning himself rather than admit how much pain he was in. He’d begged his father to stop, but Arthur insisted it was Tedros’ mother who needed help, not him. Yet in the end, it was his mother who’d been honest with herself, giving her a second chance at life, while his father numbed his feelings all the way to the grave.
Now, sitting with Agatha and Merlin, Tedros felt his own buried pain return. He didn’t want Agatha to suffer the way he once did, shut out by someone she loved. And he didn’t want to be like his father, refusing help until it was too late.
“I thought everything was going to be okay when we left school,” he said finally, unable to look at his princess. “I didn’t want her to worry for the rest of her life. She’s been through enough. But then I saw her watching me this morning when I was on the balcony and I could see she was hurting—”
“‘She’ meaning . . . me?” Agatha asked.
Tedros saw Merlin squeeze Agatha’s wrist, telling her this wasn’t her turn to talk.
“Merlin, where were you all this time?” Tedros said, clearing his throat. “No one’s seen you since the coronation. Not that I really ‘saw’ you then either.”
“I’d hope not. It took a meticulous spell to turn me into a mosquito that could last a decent amount of time without sucking someone’s blood,” said Merlin.
“Too bad it couldn’t be Lady Gremlaine’s,” Agatha offered.
The wizard frowned at her.
“You watched the coronation as a mosquito?” Tedros asked.
“I was hoping to avoid detection and have all attention be on you, my boy. If anyone saw me, they would have foolishly tried to execute me and it would have led to quite the spectacle indeed. But then you created your own spectacle by presenting your mother and Lancelot to the people against all reasonable advice. It was a stunning act of stubbornness, something a swaggering boy at school would do rather than a new king trying to build faith with his kingdom.”
“And I’m sorry for it,” said Tedros softly. “I thought it was the right thing at the time.”
“I could have helped—” Agatha started.
Merlin’s hat bit her bottom.
“Maybe I did do everything wrong and messed it all up. Maybe I am the worst king in the world. But isn’t that punishment enough?” Tedros fought. “You didn’t have to punish me too by disappearing for six months!”