❝ when she looks into his eyes, she feels the gripping temptation to tell him all her darkest secrets; the names of the men she has killed, but she learned a long time ago that the only people who can keep secrets are resting in overgrown graveyards...
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST PART ONE ( i )
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"Keep up, Merlin, we've got a busy day ahead."
Gaius strolls through markets with the cool mists of the morning still lingering in the air. Beside him, Calliope walks, her sword and daggers hanging from her belt. She catches the attention of the townspeople, most looking over her with wary eyes. They know who she is, the whispers of the girl who killed the Red Dragon float amongst them and claw at her chest. The people don't look at her the same way they look at Arthur or the knights. With them it's praising triumphant and brave heroes. For Calliope, it's more of an aura of awe mixed with curiosity and respect—from the women at least. Some of the men glare at her, but she sees the fear they try to hide.
It's an odd event for her to be here instead of the training grounds or on a patrol, but she hasn't been able to use her sword in a month. Every time she prepares herself for something as simple as a sparring match, she is brought back to Drak's palace, in the Great Hall where he killed her mother, and she unleashed a brutal fury on so many men she lost count of them.
For the first week, she barely left her room and denied any visitors, even Arthur. She spoke to no one. Calliope laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling with a gaping hole blown into her chest. When the King asked for a reason for her denial of duty, Arthur spoke on her behalf saying she received word of a family member's passing. Uther, surprisingly, allowed her the week to grieve.
She thought her grief would be like a tidal wave, but instead, she just feels... nothingness. And it's even worse.
The second week, she returned to the sparring ring, but as soon as she unsheathed her sword, she couldn't bring herself to use it. She walked away from the field, and hasn't returned since.
The third week, Arthur tried to reach out. When he knocked on her door, she didn't answer. He lingered for a few minutes before she heard his footsteps leaving the hall.
And now, on the fourth week, Calliope continues her routine of coming to help Gaius and Merlin with their work. It's not much, but it's a sufficient distraction and does not involve any type of fighting. She can sit at a desk and fill vials and gather ingredients and let her thoughts fade away. At night, she can slip away to the tavern and drink until she stumbles back to her room and collapses on her bed. It's the only way she can make herself sleep.
"It's a busy day everyday," Merlin calls out, jars and canisters bumping each other in his arms as he tries to keep up. The assassin told him everything that happened during her and Arthur's trip when she finally started talking again, and he did his best to try and comfort her, but something has been off with him. When the sorcerer looks at her, just for a moment, something passes through his eyes. Something like caution or worry, and perhaps a hint of fear. "You and Arthur work me to the bone."
