Bab 77: Chapter 77
How many months had it already been? Maybe a year or more at best, Shirou wasn't really counting in his time as King. For matters that were too complicated he'd grown reliant on Agravain's stellar management abilities to maintain order in the kingdom.
The past year had yielded many results and had changed the perspectives of many others about Britain's future. For instance, the declaration of a new King had shocked many nobles in the land who'd yet to hear of such news due to the slow information network of the medieval ages. Furthermore, the fact that the Saxons appeared weary of the new King gave a boost in confidence to the people.
In the past few months, the loyal retainers previously of House Ashton had all been flocking to Camelot led by Lord Barwheld from the battle of the river Gleinn.
The logistics of new men and forces fighting for the nation was a heartening occurrence. The people of the land were uniting, and together, everyone was strong. As much as Agravain complained about all the extra paperwork, the man's deep creases on his forehead had lightened considerably as of late.
The only real duties that Shirou presently had as King was to lead the defence against the Saxons through his strength and charisma. Not that he'd been doing that in the past year. He had been preoccupied with other, more personal concerns at the time.
Walking through Camelot's halls, Shirou was lightly conversing with Merlin.
"How's Mordred's progress going lately?" Shirou asked curiously.
Merlin grimaced before giving a flat stare. "She hates studying. Calls it a waste of time even though she's learning about tactics and management skills. She'd adamant that the King's guard doesn't need to learn math or literature as well."
Merlin released an exasperated sigh. "Do you know that I saw her trying to burn her study materials the last time I met with her? Jokes on her because I made the textbooks immune to physical and magical damage. She can't use the excuse that she lost them this time either. I've also placed tracking magic on them."
Right. Shirou chose not to comment further.
There was a proud expression on Merlin's face which denoted that he probably enjoyed messing with Mordred. As for the studying, the better term was grooming. Mordred just didn't know it yet. As far as Mordred was concerned, she was happiest at her position protecting the King's side.
"Mordred's studying aside," Merlin paused in his steps and stared at Shirou seriously. "Will you be ready for the campaign against the Saxons next week? You've been delaying it for several months now and a few of the nobility are seeing it as a sign of weakness. They are fanning flames in order to destabilize your right to rule as King."
Shirou considered Merlin's words, but wasn't too concerned. "I'll handle it," he said absently. "Results speak louder than words. Speaking of which, where's Arturia?"
Merlin's lips curved upward in amusement. "Predictably, she's with the twins again," he said. "For all her bravado, she's still fascinated by them and is trying hard to win their favour. Who would have known that the former King of Knights would be so bad with children?"
"Hey, it's not her fault," Shirou argued on his wife's behalf.
Merlin just smiled mirthfully in response. "If the official matters are over with, I will excuse myself here. There are ladies in need of wooing and I don't need Arturia acting as a mother hen admonishing me to change my ways so as to not influence her children."
Suddenly, Shirou paused and gave Merlin a cold stare. "You know, if my children become pervs, I'm going to kill you."
Merlin didn't respond. He'd already left, leaving Shirou to sigh on his own. He had to keep a careful balance between kingly and fatherly duties while at the same time watching out for Morgan. The Witch hadn't made any sort of move in the past few months and it was disconcerting. The wait was the most unbearable especially with vulnerable children in the castle. This was the main reason why Shirou refused to participate at the front lines against the Saxons as of late. That, and Arturia had been pregnant at the time and there was no way that he was leaving her alone.
Speaking of Arturia, he could already hear her voice growing louder and louder as he approached the royal bed chamber. A clear indication of her growing alarm. He opened the door and saw Arturia standing over a wooden crib staring face to face with her twins staring right back.
They were only a couple of months old. Even Mordred doted on them when she thought that no one else was looking. They were babies that didn't even know how to walk covered securely in blankets. One was a boy, Lucian, and the other a girl, Annabel. The two of them were discernible by the colour of their hair: Lucian had inherited Arturia's wheat-blond while Annabel had inherited Shirou's red.
"If you're both to grow up strong the both of you must not cry just by seeing me," Arturia said strongly, her arms crossing together while nodding in approval towards Lucian who held back his tears. Annabel was another story. She looked to be on the verge of bawling, and not knowing what to do, Arturia had automatically adopted a hard stance, her voice slightly raised.
To be fair, Arturia was trying really hard to endear herself to her own children. Annabel was the problem. They stared hard at each other until Annabel soon burst into sobs, causing Arturia's expression to break. When Arturia had once admitted that she wasn't used to raising a girl, she clearly hadn't been lying. She was treating Annabel too seriously like she'd treat a boy.
It was at this point that Arturia noticed Shirou's presence in the room and quickly turned to him in a fluster. "S-Shirou what do I do? I think she hates me," she bluntly spoke her concern. Gone was her composure, replaced instead by the image of a fretting new mother struggling to embrace motherhood.
The kids must have sensed Arturia's unease because now they both looked like they were going to cry.
Shirou smiled warmly. This was his current family lifestyle.
No matter what, he'd protect them all. He'd protect everything.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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