"..."
"What kind of joke are you playing, Artoria."
"What do you mean, 'can we reconcile'?"
Morgan looked at her.
"At this point, you're still going to joke with me?"
"Even after... I've said all those things—"
"I'm not joking."
Artoria turned and sat back down on the throne.
She looked down at Morgan, her expression as if she had seen through something.
"I... am genuinely asking for a reconciliation."
"Don't misunderstand me."
"I have no ill intentions."
"..."
Artoria's tone was so serious that Morgan found it impossible to doubt her words.
But—
"And if I refuse to reconcile?"
"Artoria." Morgan walked up to the throne.
"What can you do about it?"
"Kill me? Or find some other way to strike at me?"
"That's what it would be, right?"
"You know I'd never agree to it."
However, Artoria showed no surprise at Morgan's reaction.
On the contrary, she seemed to have expected it all along, appearing perfectly calm, as if everything was within her expectations.
"You're right, you would never agree."
"That's why... I'm not asking for this 'reconciliation' in my name."
"..."
Morgan realized what she meant.
But she still asked, feigning ignorance.
"Then in whose name?"
"Ian."
Artoria answered without hesitation.
"If he were the one asking, you'd accept, wouldn't you?"
"Are you kidding me, Artoria?"
"What does a reconciliation between us have to do with him?"
Morgan clenched her fists.
"Don't you dare think... that by bringing him into this, everything you've done is suddenly right."
"You and he did *that* in my room, didn't you?"
Artoria didn't answer Morgan's question. Instead, she asked one of her own.
"And if I'm not mistaken, it was Ian who took the initiative and carried you to the bed, right?"
"..."
Seeing how Artoria had "exposed" the beginning of the encounter with almost perfect accuracy, a hint of embarrassment crept into Morgan's expression.
"So what?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Do you plan to tell all of Camelot about this?"
"First, answer my question. Yes or no." Artoria was not swayed by Morgan's tone.
On the contrary—
She was resolute.
More resolute than ever before.
"That is the only answer I want to hear."
"..."
"Yes."
Morgan tugged at her collar.
On it were still the marks left by Ian's passion.
"He's the one who carried me to the bed."
"And we did many, many things on your bed. Things you couldn't even imagine."
"Are you satisfied now, Artoria?"
"This is what you wanted to hear, isn't it?"
Morgan's voice was sharp, and the Throne Room itself was a silent space.
As a result, her voice echoed through the hall.
This was, without a doubt, a challenge to Artoria.
But Morgan couldn't care about that right now.
She felt that if Artoria had asked such a question and she didn't answer, wouldn't that be the same as admitting defeat?
No.
She couldn't let that happen.
No matter how Artoria decided to punish her, she would resist with all her might!
However—
Things did not unfold as Morgan had expected.
This blatant confession did not provoke Artoria's anger.
On the contrary.
She was calm.
As if she had known the answer all along.
"Is that so?"
"I see."
"Sister, you've finally told me the truth."
"..."
"Spare me your false sincerity."
Morgan remained vigilant.
Years of experience had long taught this princess of Britain to harbor sufficient hostility towards everything in the world.
Even though Artoria's gaze was now completely devoid of aggression, she still believed it was a front.
"You... just say what you're going to say."
"Things are already like this, anyway—"
"I won't run from it."
"But I have no intention of blaming you."
Artoria said softly, and there was no hypocrisy in her words.
On the contrary, it was like a profound realization, as if she had seen through to the truth.
"Ian... is not someone I can keep all to myself."
"Sister, can you understand what I mean?"
"I can't."
"I don't understand what you mean at all!"
"Artoria, after marrying him, are you now saying these hypocritical words just to flaunt that you have his love?"
Morgan clenched her fists.
"If that's the case, then you're going too far."
"No, sister, I have no intention of flaunting anything."
Artoria said softly.
"It's just that, after marrying him, I truly came to understand this."
"Ian... is not someone who will ever love just one person."
"The ones he wants to protect... are us—"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Sister, perhaps this isn't the best time to say some things."
Artoria took Morgan's hand.
"But—"
"For me, if I don't take this chance to say it, I probably won't have another one."
"Ian... during *those* times with us... he's mentioned your name. And not just once or twice."
"W-What?"
Artoria's words truly shocked Morgan.
She had originally thought that being carried to the bed by Ian was the limit of their connection.
But now, it seemed that was not the case at all.
"Artoria, there's a limit to jokes."
"I told you I wasn't joking—!"
Artoria's voice suddenly rose.
Then, she grabbed Morgan by the collar.
"If you doubt what I'm saying again, you'll really make me angry!"
"..."
Morgan suddenly felt like laughing.
"Artoria, are you threatening me?"
"Then you are destined to fail."
"My life, my everything, was completely ruined the moment you appeared in this world."
"You think we can reconcile just because you heard my name during *that time*?"
"Artoria, you—"
"I'm sorry."
"..."
Morgan followed the voice and saw an unexpected figure.
It was Ian, who Artoria had found a way to send away earlier.
As if he had sensed something, he appeared at the exact moment the two sisters were at each other's throats.
"Please, can you two reconcile?!"
"I don't want to see either of you in pain anymore!"