Merlin: the secret prince

Epilogue

Merlin was getting restless.

Though his days were full—sword training sessions with his knights at dawn, council meetings by midday, and state duties stretching far into the evening—his thoughts often wandered. They drifted beyond Deria's gilded halls and into the stone corridors of Camelot, where laughter echoed in familiar ways, where a clumsy servant-turned-sorcerer had once hid behind tapestries and bumbled through royal banquets.

But he wasn't that boy anymore. He was King Merlin Emrys Ambrosius, ruler of Deria, master sorcerer, uniter of magical and non-magical realms. He had accomplished more in five years than many monarchs did in fifty. His realm thrived. Trade was strong, peace was steady, and magic was not just accepted but celebrated. Under his guidance, Deria became a beacon of progress and harmony between magic and mankind. The very laws he enacted were reshaping the future.

Yet in quiet moments—between parchment and prophecy, between command and solitude—he missed Camelot. Not just its lands, but its people. Arthur. Gwen. Morgana. Leon. Gaius. The Round Table. The memories of late-night strategy discussions that turned into sword fights in the training yard. Laughter over shared drinks. Quiet counsel with Arthur under the stars. The camaraderie, the bond forged through war and loss and laughter—those things could never be recreated.

When the news arrived that magic had finally been legalized in Camelot, Merlin felt something stir within him. He had waited so long for that moment. Without hesitation, he drafted detailed architectural plans for a dragon den and sent them to Camelot, along with the finest architects and builders from Deria. He visited often—not only to oversee construction but to meet with Arthur and rekindle old bonds. He walked the streets of Camelot in disguise, listening to the people, the heartbeat of the city he once called home.

Now, Camelot and Deria stood united as a single realm: the United Kingdom of Albion. Together, they had become the most powerful force in the land, admired by allies and feared by adversaries. And yet, the throne felt colder without familiar faces.

That was when the message came.

Arthur and the knights would be returning. Not for war. Not for politics. But for Merlin's wedding.

~ Flashback: The Message ~

The great hall of Camelot buzzed with warm conversation. The royal family and the knights were seated for dinner, enjoying one of the rare evenings without political or magical interruptions. The long oak table was filled with roasted meats, freshly baked bread, goblets of spiced wine, and the ever-present sound of friendly bickering.

Then the doors opened.

A young messenger strode in, slightly out of breath, dust coating his boots from the journey.

Arthur raised a brow. "Well? Speak."

The messenger bowed. "Your Majesty, I bring word from Deria. King Merlin Emrys Ambrosius is to be wed to Lady Lilliana, future Queen of Deria, in two weeks' time. You and your family, as well as the knights closest to His Majesty, are invited. The King has personally requested your presence to assist with wedding preparations."

Silence followed.

"Merlin?" Arthur blinked. "Our Merlin? The servant Merlin? Getting married?"

"Yes, sire."

A beat. Then:

"Finally!" Morgana laughed. "It's about time. Lady Lilliana is everything he needs."

Gwen smiled softly. "They're a beautiful pair."

Lancelot chuckled. "We must tell Gaius. He'll want to hear every detail—especially about how Merlin managed to propose without setting anything on fire."