Merlin had never experienced what it was like to smile and feel internally as though he were falling apart. He'd always known you'd marry a beautiful girl. Have a family.

But watching it happen was making Merlin feel sick. He was fitting your clothes for you, sent fresh from the tailor, and fighting back his internal strife.

Somewhere along the line, Merlin's heart had gotten ensnared in you. And now he felt it as each of those ties were ripped out, with each wedding preparation.

He gave you a weak smile in the mirror. "So. You're getting married. The clotpole himself." His voice was quiet. Each word made him feel as if his heart was being ripped out.