If someone had asked his piano why he loved Arthur Pendragon…
It would tell a better story."
"How would you like to die?" Merlin asked and moved his fingers subtly, making Cedric sway in place. "The Lady Morgana is a light in this dark world, Baron, I will do anything to see her well."
He stressed the anything.
"I can peel the skin from your body inch by inch," he said, making an invisible wind glide down the side of Cedric’s face, "and keep you alive, unable to scream through every moment. Or I can break each bone in your body one at a time, crushing them to dust as you hang there unable to move. If the Lady Morgana dies, so will you, but not for a very long time."
Merlin was not a vicious person at heart; he preferred life to death and joy to sorrow, but he could play a part when he needed to. This man, all of Camelot in fact, needed to know that he was no longer the same, no longer just the manservant of the prince. He had power and he was Arthur’s man; now the enemies of Camelot would know that he was willing to use it. Looking Cedric directly in the eye he let his power squeeze just a little bit and he saw realisation dawn in the baron’s face.
"My wife’s hat," Cedric said, suddenly very willing to cooperate, "I secreted it there without her knowledge.""