A cold wind blew through the streets of Camelot.
It seemed to be just another scene from one of its countless, peaceful nights.
But—
For Mélusine, that was not the case.
Dressed in a maid's uniform, she stood there, completely unable to bring herself to push open the doors to the bath.
To attend to another's bath...
Why would Artoria's command be this?
What could she possibly want?
While Mélusine was still hesitating, Artoria's voice came from within.
"Since you're already here, there's no reason to hesitate, is there?"
"Mélusine, I know you're out there."
"Come in."
"..."
Artoria's intuition was far beyond what Mélusine had imagined.
There was no other choice.
Since she knew...
She could no longer pretend she had never come.
"I understand."
"My King, I am coming in now."
With those words, Mélusine the maid pushed open the great doors of the bathhouse.
As Artoria's private bath, this was one of the most luxurious places in Camelot.
And perhaps due to the large-scale revitalization of the land, the size and decoration of the bathhouse had also become more extravagant with the increased output.
Everywhere, one could see golden dragon heads, from which water constantly flowed.
Upon closer inspection...
One would even discover that they were carved in the likeness of Ian in his dragon form.
No.
It wasn't just the dragon heads.
Everywhere in this bathhouse, there were things crafted in Ian's image.
It was almost as if...
It had been built especially for him!
And amidst the steam, Mélusine saw Artoria and Ian.
The two of them were standing at the edge of the pool, watching her.
"My King, I have come."
Maintaining a sufficient level of respect, Mélusine spoke cautiously.
"Come here. Help us change."
Artoria said without a trace of politeness.
It was as if the Mélusine before her was not a Knight of the Round Table, but a court maid she had chosen.
"..."
"Th-that doesn't seem appropriate, does it?"
"Are you trying to defy my command, Sir Mélusine?"
"That was not my intention!"
"Then do as you're told."
"Yes, I understand."
Feeling the immense pressure radiating from Artoria, Mélusine did not dare to delay for a second and immediately did as she was told.
The King's coat was in her hands;
The Knight's coat was as well.
Mélusine's gaze was almost instantly drawn to Ian.
So aroused.
Just seeing him there made her so aroused.
The thought of their trysts sent shivers through her entire body.
A pure-blooded dragon's performance in such matters was truly incredible.
But...
Mélusine's throat constricted slightly.
She absolutely could not get excited now.
The petite swordswoman bit her lip, completely missing the smug smile that appeared on Artoria's face as she glanced sideways.
"Come."
"Let us enter the bath."
"Sir Mélusine, you will wait there."
"Yes."
And so—
Under Mélusine's watchful gaze, Ian and Artoria entered the steam-filled bath together.
Everything seemed so normal.
Until Artoria leaned close to his ear and spoke words that one would never have heard from her on a normal day.
"I'm especially full today."
"If you don't drink it all properly, I'll punish you."
"Do you understand?"
"..."
With just those few words, Mélusine heard Ian's breathing become ragged.
In the next moment.
The Queen of Camelot was pounced upon by him at the edge of the pool.
What followed was a ravenous feast.
Mélusine swore it was a beast-like feeding, devoid of a single shred of rationality.
If Artoria were a tree, then the fruits she bore would have been ripped away by Ian in an instant.
But she was not a tree, and she had no fruits, only something that made Mélusine feel inferior.
Biting, ravaging.
The dragon did what he pleased without reason, leaving one bite mark after another.
And in the face of such ferocity, Artoria, the food, seemed to be enjoying it immensely, even wrapping her arms around his back and kissing his forehead without reservation.
Finally—
The moment his sharp teeth released, Mélusine saw two milky-white bridges in the mist.
They looked like rainbows, but carried with them a mature sweetness.
"Honestly..."
Looking at the water's surface, now dyed white, Artoria affectionately tapped him on the head.
"Didn't we agree not to waste a single drop?"
Then, Mélusine watched as she cupped the food she had offered to the dragon, then smiled and continued.
"I don't know what to do with you."
"Let's do it together."
"This time—"
Artoria glanced at Mélusine, seemingly without intention.
"We absolutely cannot waste any more."
Absurd.
Bewildering.
Devoid of any kingly dignity.
And without the aura of the king she usually projected.
All that was left were words that were stimulating to the extreme.
Watching Artoria enjoying herself along with Ian, occasionally kissing him with a hint of that fragrance, Mélusine felt that her image of the king had been completely shattered.
Morgan was right.
She was using Ian as a tool to maintain her rule over Camelot, which was why she was so unrestrained!
But—
Mélusine felt her mind tremble.
No.
It was more like she was synchronizing with them.
Why was she becoming aroused by their unrestrained actions?
Mélusine's legs were trembling.
Finally—
Her breathing, too, became ragged.
She couldn't help it.
Before her was the man she was hopelessly fond of.
Her lover, with whom she had so many differences, yet with whom she could achieve a perfect resonance.
Even if she wasn't the one before him.
She could still feel that...
That spiritual connection!
I can't take it anymore—!
Mélusine looked down at her legs and witnessed a mortifying sight.
She, because of Artoria and Ian...
She couldn't say a word.
But what Mélusine did not expect was for Artoria to speak at this moment.
"Put the clothes down. Come here and kneel."
"Eh?"
"Did you not understand?" Artoria's tone suddenly became icy.
"I... I understand."
Mélusine did as she was told.
Kneeling beside the pool, she felt that her doom was upon her.
And it seemed that was indeed the case.
After Mélusine knelt, Artoria patted Ian's back, and then they stood before her together.
"My King, what do you intend to do?"
Looking up at a certain object above her, Mélusine's eyes trembled.
"You'll know soon enough."
Artoria said, her tone now completely devoid of any courtesy befitting a knight.
She kissed him, then said gently:
"My knight, you don't have to hold back any longer."
"Roar—"
The next moment, Mélusine was once again being humiliated by him, right in front of her.
And this time, it was far more terrifying than the last.
"Mmph— Mmph— Mmph—"
"My King—"
"I can't breathe..." Mélusine said, her body trembling.
"Oh?"
"You feel that way too?"
Artoria's hand rested on Mélusine's head, all warmth gone from her eyes.
"You should like it very much."
"Mélusine, was it fun stealing my man?"