Arthur's mouth, mid-bite into a piece of meat, came to a slight halt.
Bedivere certainly wasn't referring to his foster sister, Kay.
And besides Kay, he had only one other sister: the daughter of Queen Igraine and her first husband, currently the Queen to King Lot of Orkney—Morgan le Fay.
"Have either of you met her?"
Both Kay and Bedivere shook their heads.
Though they were a few years older than Arthur and Artoria, they were still young. Morgan's eldest son, Gawain, was already around their age. How could they have met Morgan?
"Rumor has it that Morgan is deeply resentful that King Uther didn't pass the throne to her," Kay warned. "Furthermore, her children are the heirs to the throne of Orkney. This visit is almost certainly not a friendly one."
In this era, a daughter married off was like water poured out.
In ancient China, once a daughter became an Empress, as long as she was sane, she would almost never support her maiden family in a rebellion. In fact, if necessary, she would side with her husband or son against her own relatives. In the West, this dynamic was even more pronounced.
Once a daughter was married off, it was considered a miracle if she didn't become a mortal enemy to her maiden house, let alone help them. History was littered with examples of married daughters turning around and annihilating their original families.
"Regardless, you must be careful with her," Kay added.
"Perhaps," Arthur replied casually.
In the past, he would have leaned toward Kay's assessment. After all, of the two most famous women in the Arthurian legends—Guinevere and Morgan—his impression of Morgan was that of a born antagonist.
For reasons unknown, she always seemed to find ways to oppose Arthur. Behind Mordred's eventual rebellion, one could always find the shadow of her influence. In short, she was depicted as a naturally wicked witch.
However, whenever Morgan was mentioned now, Arthur couldn't help but think of that woman wearing a crown who had suddenly appeared before him when he was on the verge of death.
Though he couldn't see her face and didn't know her name, he had an intuition—a feeling that she was his kin.
"Well, we'll know once we see her. I got a few bottles of flower wine from Mery. Why don't you all try some?"
Arthur gestured, and a personal maid standing behind him immediately brought over a bottle.
Since his relationship with Mery had taken a step forward, he had been spending a significant amount of time with that "succubus" every night, obtaining quite a few treasures from her.
As soon as the bottle was opened, a refreshing floral fragrance wafted out. Even Artoria, who had been focused on her food, lifted her small head.
"Um, I don't drink," Bedivere said softly.
In this era of Britain—or rather, in all of Europe at this time—hardly anyone drank plain water. In the wheat-growing regions of the south, people drank beer; in the grape-rich north, they drank various wines. The only distinction between nobles and commoners was the quality of the brew.
Arthur recalled seeing Bedivere drink before.
"Bedivere has a very low tolerance," Kay interjected with a smirk. "She gets tipsy after just a few cups. And once she starts, she can't stop. She's actually quite adorable when she's drunk."
"It's not that I can't drink, it's just..."
Arthur found himself intrigued. Having lived together for over three months, he had yet to see Bedivere intoxicated.
"This was brewed by Mery herself," Arthur explained. "She used dew collected from the forests of Avalon at dawn and petals from the sea of flowers on the plains. It's not just delicious; it's also very beneficial for increasing one's strength."
"It can increase strength?" Kay asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Mmh. The mana concentration in that place is incredibly high. According to Mery, an ordinary person would explode just from breathing the air there. So, the flowers and dew are different from those in the mundane world."
Hearing this, Kay took a curious sip. A sweet floral flavor with just the right amount of alcoholic kick blossomed in her mouth, making her eyes light up.
"It's delicious!"
"And the mana I consumed during training with Brother just now has clearly recovered quite a bit," Artoria marveled.
"Yes. This wine isn't particularly useful for Lily or me, but it's great for the two of you. Drinking it regularly will help enhance your physical constitution. I'll have the maids send a couple of bottles to your rooms later. When you run out, let me know; I'll get more from Mery."
"Then I'll—"
Kay looked delighted, but before she could finish, her smile froze. She frowned, staring intently at Arthur.
"What? Is there something on my face?"
"No... but I've been meaning to ask for a while now. You and Mery seem to have become very close lately, haven't you?"
Arthur's smile twitched for a fraction of a second. He quickly looked away, acting as if nothing was wrong, and turned to Bedivere, who was staring hesitantly at her cup.
"Go ahead and drink. We use titles during work hours, but it's after-hours now. We're all friends here. If you get drunk, you get drunk."
"Ugh..."
Bedivere hesitated a moment longer. But as she watched Kay call for another cup and smelled that intoxicating floral scent, she couldn't resist.
"Then... I'll just have one cup. Only one!"
Ten minutes later.
"Ugh... I—I want more!"
Bedivere's snow-white face was flushed a deep, drunken red. She swayed in her seat, her eyes barely able to stay open as she mumbled incoherently.
"Maybe you should take a break before having more?" Arthur suggested, his expression a bit strange.
The alcohol content of Mery's brew was roughly the same as the wine they drank daily—essentially a new wine fermented from the previous autumn. It was more like a sweet juice than a hard liquor.
Given their physical constitutions, let alone "monsters" like him and Artoria who could drink indefinitely, even Kay could handle eight or ten cups without a problem. Yet Bedivere was already gone by the fifth cup...
"Nooooo!"
With a soft thud, Bedivere slid off her chair and onto her knees. She pressed her face against Arthur's leg, alternately nibbling at the fabric and leaving wet marks.
"I want to drink! I want more!"
Watching Bedivere throw a drunken tantrum while hugging his leg, Arthur looked up at Kay, who was snickering on the other side of the table.
"Is this how she usually acts?"
"Yep. Adorable, isn't she?"
"Give her another pour then."
"Ooh! Arthur, you're the best! I love you the most!"
Bedivere suddenly perked up. She lunged upward, wrapping her arms around Arthur and planting a kiss on his cheek. She then spent a good while fumbling for her chair; it wasn't until another maid hurried over to steady her that she managed to sit back down and drain the next cup in one go.
"More!"
"Pour it for her," Arthur waved his hand dismissively.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Artoria staring intensely at his face. He blinked, about to ask what she was looking at, but realized a second later—she was staring exactly at the spot where Bedivere had just kissed him.
"Brother, I..."
"Eat your dinner! And don't even think about faking it. I know you can't get drunk!"
"Uuuu..."
Artoria looked at Arthur's cheek, then at Bedivere, who was happily swaying and drinking. She lowered her head to her food, feeling dejected. Even the delicious meal suddenly didn't taste as good.
She wanted to kiss her brother, too!
It wasn't her fault her alcohol tolerance was so high!
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