Dear Prat,

Sire.

Arthur.

I'm the idiot? Really? You hide a letter you intend to give me later in your room, which I clean on a regular basis. Well…semi-regular. How did you think I could not find it?

All right, so you know. That I practice magic, I mean. But I'm not a sorcerer; not exactly, anyway. I was born with the ability. I could do some things without even meaning to. I didn't start studying it until I came to Camelot.

…

Maybe I am an idiot.

Anyway, I only (mostly) use it to help you. I don't even use it for my chores! Except sometimes to clean your armor, but it's not like…

Nevermind. But you're not really upset about the magic bit, are you? You're more hurt that I haven't told you.

Yes, Arthur. Hurt. Don't deny it.

I know.

Honestly, Arthur, part of the reason I still haven't told you is because I don't want to make you choose.

And yes, part of it is also that I'm not sure which you would choose. Not because I don't trust you. Just because I know you love your father.

And the third option is just that you send me away. Which you can't do.

I know, I know. I'm the prince, I can do whatever I want.

But you wouldn't last a day without me, and you know it.

Arthur, I…

Well, you know.

I know what your father taught you about magic, but I won't hurt you. I promise.

And…thanks. If you do know (and I guess I can't argue that point) then you could have…but you didn't, so…thanks.

But do you know how much work it takes to keep you alive? Honestly, I deserve a raise.

Your friend,

(Yes, I know)

Merlin