"Unpleasant memories?"
Morgan asked, standing beside me as I stared at the enormous main doors of the Crystal Palace.
What had captured my attention was the Pendragon insignia carved into their surface.
A serpentine dragon biting its own tail, forming a rather unsettling ring.
"More like no memories," I replied, casting her a knowing glance. "This is my first time entering the Crystal Palace."
Morgan's expression softened.
A shadow of guilt crossed her face.
"...I'm sorry."
A dry chuckle escaped me.
"You're a little late for apologies, dear sister."
My gaze drifted back to the insignia.
"That dragon is looking rather smug for something biting its own tail."
Morgan followed my gaze, a faint smile touching her lips.
"Well, it symbolizes the eternal rule of the Pendragons," she explained, tilting her head slightly. "Our family has ruled the Kingdom for millennia, ever since Bran the Conqueror."
"From Bran the Conqueror to you and me." I shook my head. "Quite the downgrade."
Morgan let out a quiet laugh.
"I partially agree. We'll never stand on the same level as the Conqueror."
She paused, her crimson eyes drifting back toward the dragon.
"But..."
A quiet reverence entered her voice.
"...I believe Father may have surpassed even our ancestors."
The two of us stood there for another brief moment, our gazes lingering on the ancient insignia.
As if responding to our silence, the massive doors slowly opened.
We stepped into the entrance hall.
Calling it an entrance hall almost felt insulting.
It could easily have passed for a grand ballroom.
For a brief moment, I simply stood there.
Despite everything I had seen in the Shield...
the Crystal Palace still managed to leave me speechless.
Its soaring ceiling rested upon towering pillars whose pristine surfaces were adorned with intricate patterns of silver, gold, and shimmering crystal.
Massive windows flooded the hall with the warm afternoon sun, while enormous chandeliers of breathtaking craftsmanship hung beneath the translucent ceiling.
A soft carpet muffled our footsteps as it stretched through the center of the pristine white floor, bordered by thin rivers of crystal that shimmered so vividly they appeared almost liquid.
A handful of paintings decorated the walls.
Beyond them, there was remarkably little ornamentation.
Despite its immense scale and obvious wealth, the hall never felt excessive.
Instead, it possessed the quiet confidence of something built to endure centuries.
It was magnificent.
And then there was something else.
"It's rather empty," I frowned, looking around before turning to Morgan. "Where is everyone?"
Considering this was the beating heart of the Kingdom, I had expected politicians, knights, nobles, tourists, and servants moving about in every direction.
Instead, the only people I saw were the Royal Guards stationed at the gates and standing watch beside the palace's enormous doors.
"It's the weekend," Morgan explained with a small smile. "Most people take the day off."
"A few essential workers remain, of course. They rotate every weekend so the palace can continue operating."
I blinked.
"So you have the whole palace to yourselves?"
"Pretty much."
She nodded.
"And since you were coming home today..."
A warmer smile appeared on her face.
"...we closed the palace to tourists."
She tilted her head. "Mother made sure of that."
"Sure I did!"
A familiar voice spoke ahead of us.
My eyes widened.
I hadn't heard that voice for a decade.
Turning ahead, I froze.
The entrance hall opened into a vast atrium, from which broad hallways branched toward the different wings of the palace.
At its center stood a beautiful fountain, its crystalline waters dancing beneath the afternoon light.
And standing before that fountain was…
"Mother?"
It was as if she had appeared out of thin air.
Guinevere wore a soft cream knit sweater tucked loosely into charcoal-colored pants.
Her sleeves were casually rolled just below her elbows, revealing the phoenix tattoo on her forearm. Brown boots completed her outfit, while her familiar cross-shaped earrings dangled from her ears.
It wasn't the attire of the High Queen, but of a mother waiting for her child to come home.
A warm smile spread over her face as her blue eyes met mine.
She wasn't the only one.
Clutching her leg and peeking from behind the High Queen was a little girl with wavy golden hair and the cutest face I had ever seen.
Her big, scarlet eyes regarded me with innocent curiosity.
Then they lit up.
"Brother!"
Trinity Pendragon squealed excitedly.
Dashing toward me like a tiny golden blur, she moved at a speed that seemed utterly impossible for a four-year-old.
Before I could react, she leapt at me.
The next thing I knew, I was on my back.
Mind you…
I'm an S-ranker, and she still managed to catch me completely off guard.
"You're so pretty!'
The delighted four-year-old wrapped her tiny arms around me before leaning back just enough to stare at my face.
I… didn't know how to react at first.
But when I saw the child's enthusiasm, the innocence in those scarlet eyes, something stirred within the empty void inside my heart.
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
Slowly, my left hand rose toward her lush golden locks.
For a moment, I hesitated.
Trinity noticed.
Without a word, she gently took my hand in both of hers and placed it on top of her head, squishing her fluffy hair beneath my palm.
"Don't worry," she giggled.
"I will not go, poof!"
I chuckled and gently ruffled her hair.
"You definitely won't."
"Now you look truly alive."
Morgan's calm voice reached me from above.
Looking up, I noticed a warm smile on her face.
"Big sister, you are so mean!" Trinity glared at her with a pout.
"You said you'd make him happy!"
Morgan's smile turned apologetic. "I know."
"I'm sorry, little one."
"Now, now," Guinevere walked over and gently lifted little Trinity into her arms.
"Get off your brother. He's had a very long journey."
"Mommy..."
The little princess tilted her head as Guinevere lowered her back onto the floor.
"Big brother only has one arm."
Guinevere lovingly patted her head. "Don't worry, my little sparrow. He'll get back his arm."
"No matter what."
She smiled. "Then he'll be able to lift you in the air."
Trinity's eyes immediately lit up.
Turning toward me, Guinevere slowly extended her hand.
"Come, Mordred."
I looked into her warm blue eyes.
Without thinking, I reached out and took her hand.
She pulled me to my feet and for a brief moment…
We simply looked at each other.
Then…
Stepping forward, she wrapped both arms around me.
"My child," her voice broke.
Warm tears soaked my shoulder.
"You're alive."
She held me so tightly it became difficult to breathe.
As though she was afraid that the moment she loosened her embrace…
I would disappear again.
She sobbed quietly.
"Those damned daemons. What have they done to my baby?"
I stood there in silence.
Before the Abyss...
Perhaps I would've cried with her.
Now… all I could do was stand there, wondering why my heart felt so unbearably heavy.
I wasn't even her own child.
Yet she held me as though I had always been.
And somehow… that hurt more than I expected.
I let her hold me for as long as she wanted.
The world faded around us, leaving only a mother and her child in their reunion.
*******
"I'm glad she didn't go overboard."
I remarked as Morgan and I walked through one of the broad hallways on the third floor of the Crystal Palace.
"I think I'm going to need something to help my digestion," I said, rubbing my stomach, stuffed from the literal feast that was prepared for me.
"We can have some tea afterward," Morgan replied with a smile. "You know, Mother originally planned for a grand celebration."
She paused. "One that involved decorating all three palaces.
I slowly turned toward her. "Seriously?"
Morgan nodded. "Fortunately, her advisors voted against it."
She sighed, though I could see the amusement in her eyes. "You cannot imagine the tantrum she threw."
A shiver ran down my spine when I thought about what would've happened if Guinevere had her way.
I wasn't sure whether I should be relieved ot terrified.
"And this discreet gathering was the compromise?" I asked.
"One that she eventually agreed to," Morgan replied. "Though she had one condition."
I frowned. "What condition?"
"A proper celebration will still be held in your honor."
She tilted her head. "That is… if you want one."
My gaze drifted toward one of the enormous windows overlooking the palace gardens.
A gardener carefully trimmed a hedge while another tended a bed of blooming flowers.
The peaceful scene gave me a moment to think.
In my past life, I would've jumped in delight at the thought of a celebration or party organized in my name.
But now… it just feels rather extravagant.
"Honestly," I said, turning back to Morgan. "I preferred this."
"It's much calmer and more personal."
"And besides…" I shrugged. "Last time I attended a party… things didn't end well."
"Ah," Morgan looked away awkwardly. "That's true."
After a brief silence, she looked back at me.
"Still, a celebration like that would be more than a party."
"It would be the Kingdom's first opportunity to meet you."
"And to make things better," Morgan smiled. "You'll be the one choosing who gets invited."
I stared at her for a long moment.
"Morgan. I have no idea who is who."
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"That," she replied, gesturing toward herself, "is where Gawain and I come in."
"We'll make sure you know exactly who you're inviting."
"That will be an excellent opportunity!"
A silver-haired head emerged from my shadow as though surfacing from water.
"Royal celebrations help us to kindle many unforgettable relationships and gain allies," Alisax explained enthusiastically.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Easy there."
"I thought you passed out from chocolate overload."
"I recover quickly," her silver eyes twinkled with delight. "Human delicacies are such a feast for the senses, and chocolate is the most divine experience of all."
Turning to Morgan, she smiled brightly. "The royal cooks are amazing."
"They certainly are," Morgan replied with a small smile, "Though this time, they were merely assisting Mother."
"Indeed!" Alisax nodded enthusiastically. "Queen Guinevere is an excellent hostess… and an equally wonderful cook!"
Her expression softened.
"I was worried she would resent me for being a daemon."
A small smile touched her lips.
"I am very glad to have been proven utterly wrong."
"She has taken quite a liking to you," I noted.
"She wants to know more about the Lumini," Alisax's silver gaze softened. "More about Queen Phoebe."
"And your little sister…" Her eyes sparkled again. "She's absolutely adorable."
"She reminded me of Uriel when she was a little malakh."
"By Uriel…" Morgan looked at me with mild confusion. "You mean the Ignis Incarnus?"
I nodded. "Alisax is quite old."
"Indeed I am!"
The daemon lifted her chin with a rather smug look.
Morgan looked between the two of us before quietly shaking her head.
A faint smile lingered on her lips. "I have a lot to learn."
"Anyway," Alisax said, her gaze drifting farther down the corridor, "it's a shame Queen Guinevere had to stay behind with the unconscious little princess."
"Yeah," I chuckled. "I didn't know Trinity could eat so much that she passed out."
"Trinity has a huge appetite," Morgan replied. "Sometimes I wonder if she has an endless void where her stomach should be."
Alisax smiled.
"Having your mother with us would've been a comfort."
The smile slowly disappeared. "My stomach feels unsettled ever since we entered this wing of the palace."
"Are you sure it isn't the brick of chocolate fudge you devoured in one sitting?" I asked.
She slowly shook her head, her tone suddenly serious.
"No, it isn't. All my senses are on high alert."
Morgan regarded her with quiet approval.
"You've always had remarkable instincts, Lady Alisax."
She looked ahead.
"So have I."
Without realizing it, our conversation gradually died away.
The further we walked, the quieter our surroundings became.
The warmth and laughter from before slowly faded behind us, replaced by broad marble corridors lined with huge windows and paintings.
As though the palace itself understood whose presence awaited us.
Morgan finally broke the silence.
"After all..."
Her crimson eyes shifted toward me.
"We're on our way to his office."
For reasons I couldn't explain, my heartbeat quickened.
Arthur Pendragon.
A name I could never forget, in this life or my past.
The man I mortally wounded in the fields of Camlann. The same man who ended my life on Earth.
The man who sent me to the Shield… to the daemons in my second life on Asteris.
I'm finally meeting him.
My chest tightened, trying to wrap around the shattered remains of my heart.
It failed.
I don't know what to do about this feeling.
Morgan came to a stop before a pair of enormous dark wooden doors adorned with the Pendragon insignia.
She turned toward me.
"Mordred."
Her voice was calm, yet there was a quiet gravity beneath it.
"Are you ready to meet our father?"