“High King?” the skinny, pinstripe-suited stranger asked the dark-skinned, golden-crowned youth sitting on the marble throne.
Ancelyn II, Arthur Arisen, Dominator of the Thirteeen Worlds, just nodded and smiled.
“That doesn’t get a bit, well, boring?” the stranger wondered. “You’ve never considered a change of career, then?”
“My mother told me of your jests, Lord Merlin,” the king replied. “Why would I renounce my throne for the life of a vagabond?”
“Yeah, fair enough,” sighed Merlin, crestfallen. “I’ll just be on my way, then. Alone.”
The assembled knights and the ladies of Camelot watched him leave.
“Shame,” said the king.
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