The next morning, at the crack of dawn.
Arthur woke up early, driven by a biological clock he had developed over the past few months—mostly because Mery usually gave him a "morning greeting" at this hour.
Opening his eyes, he saw a mass of white hair in his arms. Still groggy, he didn't stop to wonder why she hadn't started her greeting yet. He habitually hoisted her up and rolled over to pin her down, intending to get in some morning exercise. It was then that he suddenly realized something was wrong.
This wasn't Mery!
However, his realization came too late. Bedivere, who had been lying in his arms, let out a muffled groan as she was pressed into the mattress. Their eyes met. Bedivere's face turned bright red, and she quickly looked away.
"Is... is this how you always act in bed?"
Arthur: "..."
Since things had already reached the point of no return, he decided he might as well make the best of it.
Half an hour later, Bedivere sobbed as she bit Arthur's shoulder. She wanted to say something, but she truly lacked the strength.
In the past, she had only watched Arthur spar with Artoria. Seeing him defeat her so effortlessly, Bedivere hadn't possessed a clear understanding of exactly how strong he was. Today, she finally understood.
While he might not be able to match the legendary feat of Hercules—who supposedly impregnated forty-nine princesses in a single night—fighting continuously for an entire night seemed to be no problem for him at all.
"No more... I'm going to die, ugh."
Arthur simply lay back down and pulled Bedivere into his arms.
Looking at her—hair disheveled, mouth slightly open as she panted for air—Arthur had words on the tip of his tongue, but they were hard to say.
Marriage?
If this were before he pulled the sword, he would have said it without hesitation. Even if Bedivere refused, he would have persisted. But now, he couldn't easily make such a promise. If he truly married Bedivere, it wouldn't just affect the two of them. How would Guinevere feel? And he could certainly forget about any support from her father; they'd be lucky not to become mortal enemies.
But after a moment of hesitation, Arthur prepared to speak anyway.
No matter what, since he had done the deed, he had to be prepared for the consequences. As for whether she would accept...
"It's alright."
Just as he was about to speak, Bedivere seemed to guess his thoughts. She reached out and pressed a finger against his lips.
"Just being by your side is enough for me."
Bedivere's face flushed as she buried her head in his chest again. "It would be better if you could be a bit gentler in the future and not bully me so much," she whispered.
Thinking back, her face grew even redder, and she bit his shoulder again in mock frustration.
Her "Little Brother Arthur" usually seemed so normal, but last night he had been an absolute demon!
Setting aside everything else, just take the fact that she had come over after three bottles of wine, crying and begging him to let her go to the bathroom. He had ignored her for the longest time, and when he finally let her go, he had held her in a... well, a very humiliating position. Just thinking about the scene made Bedivere both ashamed and angry.
The worst part was that she had been so drunk she had actually...
She really should have just held it and ruined this bastard's sheets!
After a bit more intimacy, Arthur called the maids into the room. While they tidied the bedsheets, he took Bedivere to the bath for another round. By the time they emerged, the maids had their clothes ready. Arthur then led a weak-kneed Bedivere to the dining hall.
"You two...?"
Kay, who was already eating breakfast, narrowed her eyes at the pair.
Arthur looked perfectly normal.
But Bedivere...
The way she walked, the panicked look in her eyes that made her unable to meet Kay's gaze, and the subtle change in the air around her...
"How is the matter I asked you to investigate?"
Just as Kay was about to press for answers, Arthur casually changed the subject.
"Oh, that. I consulted some magi. They say the beast activity is partly because your pulling of the sword triggered a 'Mystery Revival.' This area is the center of the mana eruption, so the concentration is much higher here. However, they also confirmed there are traces of human interference."
There were quite a few magi in Camelot.
It wasn't that they were loyal to the city; it was simply that the situation on the continent had become a total disaster. The Roman heir supported by the Mages' Association and the Pantheon had officially gone to war with the heir supported by the Holy Church.
The two sides were fighting tooth and nail. The Holy Church no longer cared which faction a magus belonged to; if you were a magus, they simply wanted you dead.
Consequently, more and more magi had fled to Britain over the past two years. Since Camelot was one of the areas where "Mystery" was most concentrated—and other locations like Vortigern's fortress or Avalon, where the Lady of the Lake resided, were places these magi didn't dare visit—most of them had settled in Camelot.
And since these newcomers needed funding and a place for their research, almost every noble with any status kept one or two magi as retainers. Arthur's foster father, Ector, had a few as well, but their strength was average. When something serious came up, Arthur preferred to contact the stronger independent magi who worked for coin.
Though these magi lacked morals, they truly got the job done if you paid them well.
"Oh, and another thing," Kay added. "I heard that old dog Oscar held another banquet last night. Whatever is happening is definitely linked to him."
Kay gave a heavy hint, her face full of anticipation. "Should we...?"
Before Kay could finish her suggestion, Arthur spoke coldly. "Regardless of whether this has anything to do with him, even if it doesn't, we will find a way to make it his fault."
He had wanted to get rid of that "old-but-won't-die" relic for a long time.
He didn't mind spending money to keep a mascot around, but Oscar acted as if he were still the high-and-mighty tutor and regent to Arthur's father—a man Arthur had never met and felt no connection to. Oscar was always pointing fingers at Arthur, criticizing his sisters and his foster father. Worse, his greed for power was barely concealed behind his "loyal old dog" facade. If Arthur hadn't been worried about the political fallout of a direct execution, he would have cut him down long ago.
"Leave it to me. Framing people is what I do best."
Kay immediately beamed with joy.
She wasn't great at solving crimes, but she loved planting evidence.
Specifically, she loved the look of despair on their faces right before they died. She enjoyed leaning into their ears and whispering, "That's right, I know you're innocent—because I'm the one who framed you. But what can you possibly do about it now?" The thought of it was simply intoxicating!
"Do it quickly," Arthur commanded. "Judging by the reports from Muir and the others, those restless fools are likely planning something big soon. Take the old man down before things explode."
"I'm on it. You can count on me!"
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