Chapter 68: Chapter 68
Emily had never been one to drink, more so after the strict policies she'd been forced to learn and adhere to in her time in house Barthomeloi, but today was a special sort of case.
The entirety of Gwent was buzzing with activity and all that she could do was absently stare at the strong liquid she was swirling in a large wooden mug while hunched over a table.
Life? What a sad existence.
She didn't even know what she should be feeling right now.
"Another toast to the King and Queen! Long live the Kingdom!"
Honestly, she should be glaring right now, but she was too mentality tired. Her efforts to find a concealed room in order to drink alone had probably flopped from the moment that the Son of Wolfred and Palamid found her.
For his part, Palamid was being quite considerate from where he sat across from Emily, but the Son of Wolfred's voice could be heard directly from the open hall where all the other Knights and commoners were busy in festivities.
"Do you think it mean of me if I turned him into a frog?" She questioned in monotone. "It's been years but sometimes I can't imagine how that pompous former son of a baron even matured properly. Does he have no consideration? Or is he simply just that dense to not realize when a friend is feeling down?"
Palamid smiled wryly. "Give him a break," Palamid defended the Son of Wolfred while patting Emily on the back. "He's been swamped with work ever since Shirou disappeared and he had to take the mantle of administrative work in Bristol. Worse, the losses that we suffered at the hands of the Saxons before had been worrying him to no end. Admittedly, the former King's hollow eyes and expressions in the past few years weren't much in terms of morale support. Especially because all of us can still remember how joyful she looked when she first went on a journey with Shirou."
Palamid took a swig from his cup and wiped the foam off his lips with a napkin. Ordinarily, most men would not drink in such a feminine way, but this was the method of drinking that Palamid had been taught by his father.
Despite everything that had happened in their lives, Emily, Palamid, the Son of Wolfred, and Arturia had still failed to register a simple fact that eluded them.
'What an ideal woman.'
Emily looked at Palamid who'd removed his helmet in order to drink properly. Palamid was beautiful and 'her' manners were spot on. There was simply no end to the number of suiters that tried to court Palamid without Palamid's knowledge.
Emily and the Son of Wolfred had been dealing with most of them because Palamid was oddly vindictive when a man came and asked for a hand in marriage. Most of those proposals came from nobility that Emily and the Son of Wolfred could not block so there was little protection there.
Palamid must have had preferred a man who could stand on equal ground both intellectually and physically. A pansy who couldn't even wield a sword like most noble heirs was obviously out of Palamid's striking range.
"You must have it tough too," Most of Emily's irritation faded away while looking at Palamid who blinked at her in confusion. "At times like these, it's best to unite in shared comradery."
"Sorry for your loss," Palamid simply shrugged, unable to discern Emily's true meaning.
"Right," Emily was back to staring at the beer in her wooden mug while sighing wistfully.
The man that she had developed her first crush, and the friend that she'd made since childhood were bound to get married soon. She already felt like she'd lost her chance and that thought was entirely depressing. Worse, she couldn't even bring herself to get mad or grow resentful. She cherished her friends and wished the best for them.
Then what about her?
She drank another mouthful of beer and felt her cheeks begin to flush from the sting of the liquid flowing down her throat.
Shirou was an idiot.
Did he not know how happy he made her when he promised her his help in the Clock Tower despite the conflict with the Saxons?
Ugh.
The depression was rising again, but admittedly, she could still be happy for them. At the very least, Shirou had ended up with someone that she approved of rather than some common girl generally found in the streets. Honestly, she would have had been offended in that case. There was no way that Shirou could have had possibly been unable to see the affection that those close to him had for him.
Good for him though. He and Arturia were already being hailed as an official couple by the nobility, the Knights, and even the common folk. Their children would be made royalty for generations to come while riding on the coat tails of legends.
What a joyous occasion.
Emily's expression was dry.
The mug of beer approached Emily's lips again, but she soon paused mid sip.
There was a Knight donned in full armour staring hard at her and Palamid from the opposite side of the room. It was all the more noticeable because she and Palamid had chosen to drink away from most of the celebrating where the Son of Wolfred was at.
"Sir Mordred?" Palamid was the one who identified the Knight.
Hearing her name called, Mordred suddenly realized that she probably wasn't being as subtle as she was intending on being. Therefore, she felt awkward after having been found out. Eventually, she walked over after resolving herself.
"You guys knew Shirou before, right?" Mordred scratched at the back of her head before bringing her hands together and fiddling with her fingers. She wasn't making eye contact with either Emily or Palamid, clearly embarrassed for even asking. "What was he like?" She still asked anyway.
"Does it matter?" Palamid didn't see the relevance in the question. There were enough rumours and stories going around about both Shirou and Arturia's origins that one could connect the dots if they tried hard enough.
Emily shushed Palamid before Mordred could bolt away for asking something so stupid.
Emily smiled kindly. "Why do you want to know?" She asked tentatively.
Mordred kicked the ground with her foot and crossed her arms before turning her gaze away. "Just cause," she did not elaborate, but her body language was saying it all.
Shirou you sinful man.
The cup in Emily's hand shattered into splinters, causing Mordred to startle, but Emily acted as if nothing had ever happened. "I'll have to get another mug," she grinned smilingly.
"R-Right," both Mordred and Palamid looked at Emily oddly. However, by the time that Emily stood up and obtained another mug of beer, she'd composed herself and schooled her features.
"Going back to the question of what kind of person Shirou was in the past, really he could be summed up in a few simple words." Emily sat back down on the table and lifted up her fingers for Mordred to see. "Kind, compassionate, skilled, intelligent, you have no idea how many admirers that man had hiding away by the corner of buildings. He was an admirable man who any woman would gladly cherish to be theirs."
Arturia was lucky.
Emily's inner voice spoke within her. If only she had met Shirou first, perhaps the outcome would have had been different today, but nonetheless, a topic for another time.
"Worse," Palamid cut in. "The fool didn't even notice."
"He's not a fool!" Mordred was quick to glare, earning her surprised glances from not only Emily and Palamid, but from those nearby as well. She blushed and attempted to play off her outburst. "I mean, he's the King and all so show some respect. Not like it matters to me."
Palamid heard the distinct sound of groaning wood and looked down to see Emily's hand coming dangerously close to shattering another mug. He inched away if only slightly. God forbid he didn't want to be on the receiving end of Emily's irritation. Still, her training in house Barthomeloi did a lot to allow Emily to keep her composure.
"Was there anything else you needed to know?" Emily directly shifted the topic away.
Mordred looked tongue tied. Even if she had questions, the expression and demeanour Emily was displaying was making her feel uncomfortable. "Nothing," she eventually forced out.
Emily sighed. There was no point getting frustrated any longer.
It was time.
She'd been putting it off for long enough already anyway and Mordred's actions had only caused her to resolve herself further. In her anger, she'd vented some stress on the wooden mugs, so she supposed that she was thankful to Mordred in a way.
"Sorry, you'll have to excuse me." Emily abruptly stood up from her seat and spoke calmly. "There's someone that I have to pay a visit to and congratulate."
Palamid nodded in understanding, but Mordred looked clueless.
Emily soon left, leaving Palamid and Mordred alone in the little side corner of Cywyrd's festival hall.
It was silent between the two, before Palamid let out a small laugh. "Don't worry about it," he spoke to Mordred. "Emily didn't leave because of you. More like she'd finally gathered enough resolve."
"Okay," Mordred looked in the direction that Emily had left from, but didn't do anything else. In fact, her eyes were focused on the mug of beer that Emily had poured for herself but had left untouched.
She'd never had beer or wine before because she'd never been one to participate in social gatherings due to her previous reputation. Now though, considering how much fun everyone else was having by drinking the stuff, she couldn't help but subconsciously lick her lips. She'd overheard some of the other Knights talking that the best way to spend time with friends and loved ones was over a glass of ale.
What if she invited Shirou some time?
Maybe not now after he'd just become King, but later.
The thought was basically all that she could think about.
Mordred tried to reach for the mug, but Palamid shot her a withering glance, causing her to falter and click her tongue.
"This is alcohol," Palamid stated clearly. "From your voice, you sound too young in order to drink it Sir Mordred." Palamid was talking from experience. Several years ago, when Palamid had his first drink, he'd passed out in public.
It was one of his greatest shames as a Knight and he did not wish for the same fate to be bestowed to Mordred who'd worked so hard for her merits. More so because she was in a public area. Besides, she seemed to be the type to be overly sensitive to the opinions that other people had of her.
"Does it matter?" Mordred looked both determined and confrontational, not liking that she was being excluded from a fun looking activity.
Palamid rolled his eyes and stared at her softly. "Trust me. I mean you no harm," he smiled lightly. The tresses of his hair were highlighted by the gentle flame burning near a heating cauldron of food.
Palamid exuded a certain charm and allure that only further solidified the assumption made of him.
Mordred stared in a daze.
"How do you do it?" Mordred suddenly asked a question off topic.
"Hmm?" Palamid hummed while crossing one leg over the other and sipping a small mouthful of beer.
"Do you not think that it's worth hiding? Are you treated differently?" Mordred was referring to Palamid's beauty. Most women were looked down on for wanting to be knights in the present timeline.
Palamid furrowed his brows in puzzlement. Was Mordred talking about the fact that he was drinking alone and away from all the other guests? Well, that was just how he preferred it though. There was no way that he could drink with his helmet on and his appearance generally attracted unwanted attention. Even now, he could see a vague line of people glancing at him from the distance.
He scoffed.
"What's there to hide? If they come then let them come." Palamid glared at the onlookers under Mordred's gaze. "A person's worth has nothing to do with appearance but through capability instead. If they take me lightly, it's their fault when they find themselves on the other end of my sword."
Palamid smiled lightly in mirth when the Son of Wolfred chased away the onlookers. They'd been friends for years so the Son of Wolfred had a keen understanding for when others were bothering Palamid. Perhaps that was why Palamid no longer avoided social gatherings.
What were friends for right?
Palamid thought back to the people that he'd met in his life.
He'd made some good friends.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat up straighter on his seat with an aloof expression.
So, cool. Mordred opened and closed her mouth, but ultimately fell silent.
The way that Mordred was looking at Palamid was as if she was looking at a role model. She had been moved by Palamid's words. If not for the fact that her face was too similar to Arturia's she may have taken off her helmet already. So, what if others thought that she was just a little girl? She'd beat them to the ground anyway.
"You, are a very knowledgeable person." Mordred fumbled for the right words to say.
Palamid simply nodded his head.
Eventually, Palamid had to leave when the Son of Wolfred had his hands full keeping Palamid's admirers at bay.
"Sorry for this. Those bastards never learn." Palamid apologized.
"Kick their asses!" Mordred's tone was firm.
"Will do." Palamid grunted in amusement before downing his mug of beer and Emily's before Mordred could her hands on it. Mordred pouted and crossed her arms before huffing. Palamid inwardly grinned. He'd forgotten how crass Mordred could be. "Take care, former Knight of One."
"Thanks," Mordred called out softly before Palamid took off accompanied by the Son of Wolfred.
Soon enough, Mordred was left alone.
However, without anyone else to talk to, she soon left on her own.
It was already late afternoon and with all the celebration occurring within the castle, it was pleasantly silent by the time that Mordred stepped foot outside. After all, most of the people had gathered for food and drink.
Mordred was different. She was taking Palamid's advice and not drinking and therefore had nothing to do after satiating her stomach.
A part of her wanted to look for Shirou, but she knew that Shirou was busy confiding with Merlin over the topic of future plans.
But maybe he wouldn't mind if she just accompanied him from the back?
Shirou had always been warm to her. He probably wouldn't care, and she herself would be content just to be near him.
She clapped her hands to her cheeks.
Control yourself.
She gave herself a small pep talk. She didn't want to needlessly bother Shirou right now. In which case, training it was.
There was a training grounds within Lord Cywyrd's castle barracks so that's where she was heading.
Like most castles, the barracks and other military structures were located away from the main living areas. To get to the training fields from where she was, she'd have to bypass a small forested region.
She hadn't thought much of it at the time, but perhaps it was then that she should have had been more careful. The peace and the relatively happy direction her life was taking had done much to whittle away her weariness.
Up in the skies, the crows were flying, gliding through the air in low circles while a chilling wind began to blow.
Mordred shielded her eyes for a moment with one of her arms as she made her way through the forested zone. The area around her had becoming alarmingly silent. The rustling of the leaves had stopped, and even the scurrying of rodents and little critters was absent.
The noise of her feet crunching over the fallen leaves and twigs on the ground was the only real sound echoing within the forest around her.
Her complexion paled, her body subconsciously shivering.
Something was wrong, and she didn't want to be here anymore.
She looked back int eh direction that she'd came, but grew startled when the castle that she should have had been able to see on the horizon over the tops of the trees had disappeared.
A Bounded Field.
It was a type of magecraft that could be erected over the entirety of an area in order to exhibit various properties ranging from detection all the way to concealment and harm.
Mordred could hear her heart beating from within her chest, and she was cursing at the fact that she hadn't brought her sword. She'd left it in the army camp to attend the celebratory feast in the castle.
She picked up her pace, but quickly faltered, her eyes dilating as her breath hitched in her throat.
The soft rattle of leaves and the playing of a bell-like melody resounded in her mind.
A lullaby ingrained into her mind even as a baby.
She swallowed audibly.
It was a familiar feeling. One that she'd never wanted to feel again to the point that even her legs became incomparably heavy. She couldn't move nor even open her mouth to speak.
A black raven landed in front of her, perched atop a tree stump. Its eyes were a deep red and it presented itself with a demeanor that no simple bird could ever possess.
"Did you really think that you ever got away?"
The voice that echoed in her mind was chilling, her body entirely frozen.
"Happiness? Joy? Belonging?"
"Let me remind you that you were nothing more than a disposable doll."
The bird stepped forward, inching closer and closer.
The colour drained from Mordred's face, her lips quivering.
"It really has been a while, hasn't it? My little Mordred."
A soft hand caressed her cheek before noticeably tightening over her face despite the security of her helmet.
No. NO!
Leaves rustled in the wind, rain beginning to pour.
Emily stared up at the clouds in the sky. Lightning writhed from within, and the falling rain and heavy wind only made the day feel far drearier than it should have had been. After all, it was sunny moments before, but the weather had always been known to be fickle in this time of season.
The crows began to caw outside, almost as if conveying an ill omen.
She felt her stomach crawl.
Vile things.
Emily closed the curtains of the window that she was staring through and soon made her way through the castle's hall towards the room in which she had been subconsciously avoiding all day.
What was she supposed to say to her?
What was she supposed to do?
She didn't want to make things awkward, but running away wasn't an answer either.
At the very least, she wanted to keep things the same as they were. With that in mind, she strode towards the only door in the long hallway and paused just in front of it. She took in a breath and quickly smoothened her dress and calmed her expression.
Act as a Barthomeloi.
Emily knocked and then pushed open the door; not waiting for a response before entering in her haste. The last scene that Emily had expected to see was Arturia sitting in front of a mirror while smiling dumbly at herself.
She looked startled and embarrassed, only made worse by the fact that the silence was stretching.
Shirou wasn't present due to how busy he'd become after being pronounced King so Arturia had been occupying herself within her room.
The reason that Arturia was in front of a mirror though could not have had been any more obvious for a girl like Emily.
Arturia was trying to make herself look her prettiest. A comb was still in her hand and it looked like she was having trouble straightening her hair out. The dumb smile that was still plastered on her face was probably just a by-product of the celebration and toasts that Emily could distinctly hear coming from the dining wing. Arturia could definitely hear them, and it was doing wonders for her expression. There was still redness around her eyes from when she'd cried in the midst of the audience hall, but it only made her appear more endearing.
Arturia was gorgeous. It was no wonder that Shirou could not have had helped falling for her after all the time that they spent together.
Wordlessly, Emily walked up to Arturia and took the comb from her hands.
"You're doing it wrong," Emily commented idly. "Then again, you were probably never taught how, weren't you?"
Arturia had never been raised as a woman. Everything that she knew was related to how to be a proper man. She'd been trying to straighten out her hair and make it more presentable, but she was only making it worse. Maybe her standard braid would have had been better?
Arturia began to second guess herself and it showed.
Emily flicked her on the forehead.
"None of that," Emily admonished. "Take pride in yourself. You'll look good with your hair down. Just relax and let me do it."
Emily began combing Arturia's hair. The parts that were too frazzled or hard to straighten, Emily took a bit of wax and applied it on. They were childhood tricks that she'd learned in her life as a young girl.
"Thanks," Arturia looked distinctly out of her depth. Worse, she could see her reflection in the mirror. Her hands were on her lap, and Emily continued to comb in silence.
"D-Did you need me for something?" Arturia couldn't help herself from asking.
"Nothing in particular," Emily hummed and did her best to maintain her poker face. "Though it's probably the first time I ended up seeing such a different side of you. You must be excited after the proposal. I heard that you even asked Lord Cywyrd if it was possible to hold a wedding ceremony here."
Arturia blushed, but didn't deny Emily's words. She glanced down at the floor.
"Still, Arturia, isn't it a bit hasty to get married here of all places?" Emily took a handful of Arturia's hair in one hand and used the other hand to run the comb through the strands.
"Impatience is unbecoming of you." Emily smiled wryly. "You've waited for years Arturia, what's just a couple more days?"
My heart. Arturia dared not say what she was truly thinking due to how serious Emily appeared.
"Hold the wedding at Camelot? Is that not the best location?"
Arturia pursed her lips. Getting back to Camelot would take at least another fortnight and could be even longer if there were multiple stops on the way. It was true that she'd waited for several years, but right now she really didn't want to wait anymore. Still, Emily was right.
At Camelot, she could hold a far grander wedding and would have far more time to prepare everything. Moreover, word of her marriage would spread faster from Camelot, the main headquarters of the defensive against the Saxons.
"Let's not talk about the wedding for now," Emily switched the topic after it looked like Arturia was convinced. "What do you plan to do against the Saxons?"
"…" Arturia blanked.
"Then what about administrative duties?"
"…" No answer.
Emily's stare was piercing. She'd even stopped in her brushing.
"On a scale of one to ten, how muddle headed are you right now?" Emily rubbed her temple with a hand as Arturia's cheeks flushed red in shame. "I know that you're excited, perhaps even overwhelmed, but I'd thought that you of all people would keep a clear mind for the sake of the future."
Arturia turned up to look at Emily, her palms feeling clammy. "But I've been thinking about the future. I swear," she tried to put up a futile defence.
The judgement in Emily's eyes was wilting in their intensity.
Emily suddenly deadpanned.
"A castle or a cozy home?"
"Cozy home."
"Big family or small family?"
"Big family." Arturia had a hand over her right cheek, not noticing the twitch forming over Emily's brow.
"How many children?"
"Two or three."
"Boys or girls?"
"Boy's preferred, but girls are good too."
"Mommy, or Mother?"
"I prefer being called Mommy by my kids. It sounds adorable." Arturia fell into contemplation, her expression beaming and her thoughts clearly going off track. "Furthermore, I think that it would go really well if I-"
"Oh, I see." Emily abruptly cut in. She coughed into her hand before smiling wryly. "You really have been thinking a lot about the future, haven't you?"
Arturia finally registered Emily's monotone and began to sputter. However, there was no excuse that she could possibly use at this moment and therefore, she simply covered her reddening face with her hands. There were swirls in her eyes and she was inwardly screaming at herself for her lack of propriety.
"Relax a bit. I was just joking." Emily's expression loosened. "Sometimes its good to just put aside duties and obligations for a while. In fact, I've been sick of all the formality I had to go through in the past few years in house Barthomeloi. Aren't you the same in your past position as King?"
Emily grinned while shedding her aloof noblewoman persona. Right now, she wasn't Emily Barthomeloi, but just plain old Emily. The same girl of the past.
"Enough with the heavy topics. Let's just talk, woman to woman."
Emily finally got right down to the point. However, Arturia had no idea where to begin on this topic. She'd been raised as a boy meaning that she had no experience on this field whatsoever. Emily could tell at a glance.
"Well, to begin with, lets talk about Shirou." Emily nonchalantly guided the conversation. "What made you fall in love with him?"
The question immediately took Arturia off guard.
"T-That's," she looked lost for words. "Why does it matter? I-I just love him okay."
"Was he sweet to you? Did you make the first move? Or was it him that started everything?"
"I don't want to say." Arturia steeled her expression. The moments that she'd shared with Shirou during her childhood were both personal and her precious memories. Besides, even in the spirit of girl talk, she'd never be able to keep a straight face while recalling all of her past events.
She hoped that Emily could understand that.
Well, for the most part, Emily did just from looking at Arturia's face. The pallor of her skin had gone tomato red and the colour was crawling throughout her body. Her heart was racing within her chest.
"Say, Arturia." Arturia glanced up at Emily while trying to ease herself. "Any chance you'll ever give up on him?"
"No." The answer was the fastest reply yet. Firm too.
"Thought so," Emily smiled wistfully. "Oh well, can't fault a girl for trying."
"What do you mean?" Arturia finally took notice of Emily's odd behaviour. Ever since coming back from house Barthomeloi, she'd always been fairly reserved and well mannered. The fact that Emily had sought her out in her own bed chambers should have had been the first indication that something was weird.
The answer for Emily's behaviour came as a shock to Arturia.
"I love Shirou Ashton. I've had a crush on him ever since we were small." Emily admitted.
"Oh," Arturia's voice was small, almost subdued. She looked conflicted.
"Don't worry about it." Emily was quick to shake her head and patted Arturia on the shoulder. "You're my friend too so I'm happy for you. I really am, so if you want to make it up to me, then just live your life to it's fullest. Otherwise, you best expect that I'll jump at the chance to take your man if the opportunity presents itself. A man like Lord Ashton doesn't come very often after all."
Emily finished brushing Arturia's hair and framed the straightened locks around Arturia's face. "You look beautiful," she complimented.
Arturia did not know how to feel. On one hand she was elated to see the reflection of the gorgeous woman in the mirror, but on the other hand, Emily was probably feeling depressed right now.
"Buck up and don't worry about me," Emily placed her hands on her hips. "Besides, who says I've given up?"
What?
The context was not lost on Arturia.
Emily directly turned away from Arturia and moved to leave.
"Wait, where are you going?" Arturia craned her neck back and stared at Emily, a flash of apprehension in her eyes as she tried and failed to reach out to her.
"I'm going to look for Shirou," Emily said openly.
Arturia's eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing.
"Don't worry. I'm not looking for him to seduce him or anything," Emily furtively raised a portion of her dress to reveal a part of her upper thighs. Arturia felt her mouth dry in shock while Emily inwardly laughed to herself.
This was too easy.
The look on Arturia's face was basically priceless due to how simple it was to tease her right now.
Emily grinned mischievously to mask her own sorrow, and quickly made her way to the door of the room. "I just have some 'private' business to talk about with Shirou that we discussed earlier before. Now if you'll excuse me, I best be going. Good night, Arturia."
"W-Wait!" Arturia reached out an arm in a fluster. "Don't you d-"
Emily closed the door behind her.
Too easy.
It had only been a day since Shirou had been made King, but he was already feeling tired. Unlike what Emily had said about going to meet Shirou, she hadn't appeared in front of him yet despite the evening setting in.
It was getting dark out, most of the festivities in Gwent soon coming to a close, but he could hardly concentrate on anything. He supposed that he and Arturia had their similarities.
He was going to get married to the woman that he loved. It was difficult to endure the elation within himself, but he was holding strong by focusing on other matters.
The army would only be staying in Gwent for a couple of days longer in order to resupply on provisions since many Knights and soldiers had run out of food and water over the course of the journey.
His duty as King made it so that he had to deal with such troublesome burdens such as logistics because Merlin was being oddly vindictive towards him. Apparently, Merlin blamed him for his most recent injuries and selling away another century of his life to hard labour.
Shirou had no idea what Merlin was talking about, but when asked to elaborate, Merlin could only shiver while feeling a piercing stare on his back.
Merlin did not end up elaborating. In fact, the Wizard had spent most of the day out of sight recovering in bed. Oddly enough, the servants within Cywyrd's castle had gotten it into their heads to salute to Merlin whenever the man passed by in the hallway.
Again, Merlin refused to elaborate.
The man must be having some personal problems right now so Shirou didn't bother to probe. Considering it was Merlin though, he'd probably just pissed off the wrong kind of woman.
Shirou sat over a desk while looking at a handful of reports that he'd have to go through before calling it a night. Of course, his greatest concern was still the disappearance of the nobles who'd escaped Cywyrd's castle, but his magical capabilities weren't based on tracking. There was nothing that he could really do on the matter so he put aside and left a note asking Melrin to investigate.
Shirou soon put aside the reports and leaned his chin over the back of his hands.
In the distant future, it was going to be time to pay a visit to the Clock Tower as a representative of House Barthomeloi.
Emily wasn't in the best position in her family.
It was to be expected.
She was a bastard child who only obtained the privilege of returning to the main family after the heir apparent perished in an unfortunate accident.
As woman from a prestigious family of magi, Emily probably had to endure a considerable amount of ridicule at the hands of her relatives for being a country born girl. Worse, the action of daring to invite an outsider to act as her representative to carve a place in the Clock Tower would definitely be frowned upon. However, would that really be the case?
Only time would tell.
Shirou stood up and stared out the large-panelled window.
It was dark out, long shadows stretching under the light of the moon.
The Clock Tower aside, he felt oddly anxious despite how well things had turned out since his separation from Arturia all those years ago. It felt like he was missing something important, but for the life of him, he did not know.
He'd been made King.
The Saxons were pushed back.
Arturia was happy.
Kay was still alive.
The Knights of the Round were united in comradery.
Better yet, Mordred and Arturia were starting to get along.
What more could he have had asked for? Everything was going in the right direction.
Mordred and Arturia's smiling faces appeared in his mind.
They would be his family in this turbulent era after his marriage.
Family. That was all the motivation that any man ever needed to clench his teeth and endure all hardship.
He shook away his doubts and focused his mind to attain an ideal future for their sake.
He took in a breath and looked back to the reports.
There was work to be done.
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Parcasious
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