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“What do you think you’re doing?”

Arthur takes a bite of his apple. “I’m eating my lunch, I thought it was obvious.”

Merlin glares at him the best he can, his head held in place by the unforgiving wood. “I thought you’d at least be on the other end of the town square, leering at my ass.”

“I can leer at your ass anytime,” Arthur says mildly. It’s a nice day. The sun’s out and people are cheery. No one’s throwing rotten fruit, not with the crown prince sitting right next to the stocks.

Arthur stretches lazily, enjoying the peace.