Merlin assures me this is the only way we can win the war. I shudder to think of how you will feel, to be painted by history as some whore who betrayed her husband, when I gave you leave of my free will to do such because our paths would part in such cruel ways.
I would have those that know say that Arthur left her no illusion, so I shall tell you what will happen. Merlin is to place me in a sleep that will last until my country has need of me again. I know not when or where that will be, for countries are not defined by their borders so much as their people, as we both know. I shall rest there, in a little churchyard just along the way, until such a time.
I love you, Guinevere. I wrote this to write some love to you, in the hopes it will comfort you. Perhaps I am a fool and it will only comfort me, in which case I beg of you to grant me forgiveness. Magic makes fools of us all, and Merlin is the greatest of magicians and this sleep the greatest of all magic. The pri