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“Long live the king!”
“And we all have this man, right here, to thank for it,” Merlin said, stepping in front of Arthur. “Without him, not a single person here wоuld be alive.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, sounding exasperated.
“Please sire,” Merlin said, in a voice she wasn’t sure he meant to carry. “Please. Just… Stand up?”
Arthur gave him a weary look, but got to his feet, shoulders pulling back, chin lifting.
“This man,” Merlin said, his voice strained with emotion, “standing before you now, is King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, the Once and Future King. We owe him our lives, though no one will ever know of it, and fewer still will ever believe it.”
And then Merlin got down on his knees, staring up at Arthur with an adoration and devotion the likes of which Eleanor had never seen before. As Merlin kneeled before him, he lifted his hand, waving it front of Arthur.
Golden starlight sparkled over Arthur’s head, falling down upon him, to form a golden crown and glittering chainmail, a sparkling cape falling from his shoulders.
“Long live the king!” Merlin choked out, barely able to get the words past his lips.
The words drove Eleanor to her feet.
“Long live the king!” she shouted.
Arthur looked over at her, startled.
Behind her in the crowd, two more voices joined in. And then a dozen more by the heelstone, and then a chorus of voices after that, all shouting it together, until everyone was climbing to their feet, shouting it out together, one cry after another.
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