บท 76: Chapter 76

It was her marriage.

The thought continued to repeat in Arturia's head as she soon found herself sitting absently in front of the mirror in her room within Camelot. Gone was her aloofness and the cool collectedness of an individual in power, replaced instead by a heart that was threatening to beat out of her chest, and an anxiousness that was causing her to fidget. She was in the simple blue dress that she generally wore beneath her protective magical armour which she could summon on a whim. Her hair was no longer braided into a crown up top her head but left to freely hang from behind her neck in a cascade of golden wheat-coloured silk. Teal coloured eyes blinked again and again, assessing and inwardly fretting over her image as her lips gradually pursed in indecision. Her hands absently cupped the bottom of her budding bosom and felt their pertness by feeling their weight over her palms; however, she froze an instant later as her cheeks reddened in shame when she realized what she was doing.

Her marriage was coming. The prospect itself was one that she'd mulled over in her mind since her youth. Her very own childhood aspirations and dreams. Back then, when she was more inclined about worrying about what Sir Ector and Kay may think of her for hiding away the trinkets that Shirou would give her on her birthdays, the times were simpler: Under her pillow, or beneath her bed hidden behind a couple layers of unwashed laundry so that others would stay away was where she'd kept her treasures.

Even now, she glanced over to the laundry beneath her bed before shaking her head; some things just don't change.

She took in a breath, placed her arms by her side, and looked at herself in the mirror again. Her complexion was hardly blemished and her constant exercise gave her a lithe body. She looked…womanly. At least she thought so. She straightened her back and puffed out her chest before she promptly deflated.

It was an appearance that she was not accustomed to because she'd never had the chance. This meant to say that her confidence as a woman had never once been built up at all. Posing as a man, she could say with a hundred percent certainty whether or not she looked intimidating and authoritative enough, yet as a future Queen? Her thoughts wavered. Was she beautiful? Could she even act like a desirable woman? She glanced down at her hands, roughened by layers of callus, and far from the smoothness that most noble women sought to maintain. Weren't they undesirable? Was she undesirable?

She felt up her arms and touched her legs. In place of the supple feeling of tenderness she expected to find in most other women, she felt the elasticity of muscle used to swing her sword and harden her sword stances instead. Her lips quivered in her uncertainty, a vice like feeling squeezing at her chest.

She was basing herself off of the standards of a noble woman of the current era. Of course, she would fail in everything because her entire upbringing had been different from the start. Be that as it may, that didn't change the fact that her current self in no way embodied the ideal image of a noble woman.

Have faith, she tried to cheer herself up. Regardless of her insecurities, Shirou had still chosen her. Loved her. She didn't know what Shirou found in her that was desirable, but why did she have to care when he'd still uttered the words 'Will you marry me?'

She blinked, heat wafting off her face as blood rushed up to her head. She squirmed and had half the mind to hug her pillows and roll around on her bed in order to calm herself. Yet she wouldn't. She was a grown woman, not some pubescent teenager. Darn it. She was getting carried away. Her hands clapped over her cheeks, the sting focusing her mind.

Her marriage was coming. It was back to that same thought and she didn't know what to do in order to contain herself. Right, an answer soon came to mind: Prepare. She had to make her own preparations for the coming day. Her trail of thought reached this point until she suddenly came to an obvious problem.

She had no idea how to prepare for a marriage on her own. Of course, she had a general understanding of dowries and exchange of vows, but what things did she have to do before the day of the wedding came?

She began to fret, not realizing that it didn't matter what she did, Shirou would love her all the same. Nervous, but excited at the same time, she came to the conclusion that worrying over things that she had no idea about was not going to be productive.

She sighed, realizing just how much she depended on Merlin on the simpler things that she was inexperienced with. She had the mind to ask him for advice, but the man was keeping clear away from her in what Merlin personally described as a 'mood swing' safety distance.

What did he mean 'mood swing?' The clown. Her expression twisted into a scowl. Since when did she have mood swings? The indignation of it all. She huffed and tilted her chin upwards. Fine. It wasn't as if she needed him right now anyway.

Minutes passed in silence as she rapped her fingers over the mahogany surface of her room's desk mirror. Thoughts of her marriage had soon shifted to another, more dire point than worrying about her lack of preparations.

Morgan.

The name was like a curse in her head. If there was anyone who could make her life utterly miserable and take sick enjoyment from it, it was her elder sister. Her eyes narrowed sharply, the whites of her knuckles showing as she clenched her hands into fists.

Don't you dare come. She gnashed her teeth. I will end you.

A breeze began to blow within the room as her magical energy subconsciously began to leak from her. Gradual at first, but it grew in intensity as she began to worry and consider about how sly Morgan could be. Just like last time, she may not even be able to see Morgan's strategy coming until it reared its ugly head.

What was she supposed to do then? The question was met by the silent echo of her thoughts. There was no real answer other than to believe in the growth of her own strength. Surely now, both she and Shirou would be able to fend Morgan off. If push came to shove, Merlin and other members of the Knights of the Round were present. Now that she thought about it, the likeliness of Morgan trying to pull anything devious against the current line up of defenders was miniscule at best.

Fear though, was a bigger demon to ward away. Especially when it involved past trauma. It was Morgan that had taken Shirou away from her. What was to say that Morgan couldn't do so again regardless of any precautions?

She bit down on her lips. Why was her family like this? Why did her sister have to be so drowned in her own envy and greed that she couldn't just be happy with what she already had?

Hate was not a word that Arturia used frequently, but a sickening hate was all that she could feel whenever she recalled Morgan's image in her mind. Could she forgive her elder sister? Not a chance. Not after all the suffering that Morgan had put her through. Then again, this was only in the unlikely case that Morgan could even have a change of heart or any redeeming qualities.

You are not my sister. You never were.

The breeze in the room had grown into a storm, but it all abruptly ended from a simple knocking of the door.

Arturia blinked, snapping out of her building rage in order to look towards the door of her personal chambers. As far as she could recall, she wasn't needed for anything today. Besides, Shirou was now shouldering the Kingly matters that she'd originally had to deal with. All that she had left to do was assume her future duties as Queen.

Slowly, tentatively, Arturia made her way to her room's entrance past her bed and small lounging space furnished with padded chairs and a center table.

Who could this be? She mulled in her mind as her hand reached towards her door's lock and opened it. Using a little strength, she creaked open the door to see who was on the other side only to freeze in place.

What was she doing here?

Mordred had been the one to knock on her door. She stood nervously outside, one arm rubbing on the other as she constantly shifted her weight between one leg and the other. She looked startled, on edge, as if she herself did not know what she was thinking. Held in her arms was her helmet which she had taken of her head to reveal her features.

The last time that Mordred and Arturia had had a private conversation, Arturia had said that it was okay for Mordred not to wear her helmet. There was no need to hide anything between them because it would only fracture what little trust that the two were tentatively building.

"Mordred," Arturia said stiffly. She was still slightly embarrassed from how she'd run off on Mordred earlier. "Did you need me for anything?"

Mordred opened, then closed her mouth in disbelief or maybe embarrassment? It was hard for Arturia to tell especially because it felt like she was looking at her own face which she had no idea how to read.

"S-Sorry," Mordred stuttered out, her movements robotic. "I-I guess I was mistaken." She nearly tripped in her haste to leave, her ears tomato red in her shame. "You told me to stay before in the hall, but didn't tell me for how long. I-It's been a few hours and I got tired of waiting so I came to ask if you still needed me." Mordred timidly glanced up at Arturia before quickly turning her gaze away when she realized that she made herself look like a fool to someone that she respected.

For such an absurd reason. Arturia felt her mouth begin to hang open, but she caught herself and maintained her expression. Inwardly, she was stunned by Mordred's innocence. Rather than just leave like most sensible people would do, she'd been standing in the same spot for hours until she'd finally mustered the courage to ask if she was still needed.

Arturia really had been wrong about Mordred to believe that she could have anything to do with Morgan's schemes. Morgan did not have the ability to raise someone so earnest behind a brash personality. Merlin and Sir Ector hadn't been wrong when they were trying to convince her that Mordred had escaped Morgan's influence at a young age in the past.

Guilt came next as she recalled how fervently Mordred had been trying to prove herself in the past few years only to be relegated to distant battle fields.

Watching Mordred scrambling to leave and preserve her image, Arturia found herself acting out of character.

"Wait," Arturia called out, a hand grasping onto Mordred's arm. The movement was so sudden that Arturia's mind blanked when Mordred turned to face her. She was at a loss for words, but eventually managed to convey her thoughts. "…Will you help me?" She asked.

Dumbstruck, Mordred absently nodded her head and offered no resistance as Arturia pulled her into the royal bed chambers and guided her to the desk mirror. Siting down in the chair in front of the mirror, Arturia motioned for Mordred to stand behind her.

"I can't quite do this by myself and Merlin is avoiding me," Arturia said while grabbing a brush and handing it to Mordred. "I'd have asked Emily, a friend of mine to do this but," she was an enemy vying after her man. Arturia did not explain her reasoning to Mordred. "I just need help to keep the hair straightened for tomorrow and I can't exactly see behind my head."

"Tomorrow?" Mordred asked uncertainly while taking the offered brush in hand. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"My wedding," Arturia said warmly.

In contrast, Mordred stilled, her breathing growing erratic for a moment before she forcibly calmed herself. She didn't know what to feel at the moment, so she'd rather not add needless drama. At the same time though, what she did know was that she wanted to see the people she cared for and respected happy.

"I see," Mordred got the words out after a couple repetitions in her mind. "Congratulations," she said somewhat sloppily. Regardless, Arturia took the sentiment for what it was and smiled lightly.

"Will you help me?" Arturia said with more energy in her voice while gesturing to her hair.

"Uhm sure, but don't blame me for not having any experience." Mordred was hesitant. She didn't do girlish things. Never even done them herself before which was why her hair was probably so wild and messy.

"Trust me. I'll guide you through it. It would be much more difficult to do this on my own anyway," Arturia's mood had taken a turn for the better. At least with Mordred around she wouldn't be needlessly worrying about Morgan. "I'll need to ask you a favour and do the same thing for me tomorrow. We can use today as practice to find a good hairstyle."

Mordred didn't how to reply, so instead, she began to clumsily use the brush in her hands to comb Arturia's hair. Apparently, she was supposed to use her fingers for things such as braiding and straightening. Curls? What were those? Why did she even need to know how to make such hairstyles anyway? What good would it do on the battlefield?

Mordred grew more and more disgruntled as time passed on; however, she didn't deny that the time she and Arturia were spending together felt kind of nice. Somehow, someway, she'd gotten the acknowledgment from Arturia that she'd always yearned for. But at what cost? Her expression turned gloomy before she shook her head and stayed away from such matters. Moreover, Arturia had inadvertently opened up a landmine with only a single question.

"How did you and Shirou first meet, anyway?" Arturia asked.

Mordred's mouth instantly shut closed, her teeth audibly clacking together in her haste. It caused Arturia to sit up and watch with fascination as red began to creep up Mordred's neck and onto her face. It caused Arturia to beg the question if she herself could have a similar reaction. Like it or not, she and Mordred were family. No. She could dwell on such matters later. There was a more pressing issue.

Why was Mordred's face so red? Arturia was growing suspicious, but Mordred's answer alleviated much of her concern.

"I met him at a smithy," Mordred said bluntly.

Ah. No wonder. Arturia nodded to herself. Of course, Shirou would still end up a blacksmith after losing his memories for five years. It sounded exactly like him. He must have just seen Mordred's face which jogged his memories of her.

Behind Arturia, Mordred let out a breath of relief. No one must know. Ever.

With Arturia's attention back on finding a suitable hairstyle, she soon began thinking about her wedding and Shirou. Above all, she wanted to see him soon. She sighed.

Why couldn't the next day come sooner?

Elsewhere and mirroring Arturia's thoughts, Shirou sat tiredly in Camelot's throne room after sorting out the issue with the nobility Arturia had slaughtered. Craters and broken flooring were present through the room, making it take far longer to finally drive out all the nobility requesting extensions on his wedding date. They kept reasoning that such a head-strong and uncontrollable woman would not do well as a Queen. Instead, they deferred to Morgan as the epitome bench mark of womanly elegance and grace.

Before Morgan had become a witch, she was publicly hailed as the most beautiful lady in the lands. To many of the nobles present in Camelot, the image of Morgan that they had in their minds was of the pleasant noble woman that had once graced them with her presence in a ball. A charming smile, graceful movements and etiquette, she was perfect before her envy twisted her into a shadow of her former self. In exchange, she obtained power.

Regardless of what others said to try and convince Shirou otherwise, he listened before replying with the same monotone answer: No. Rather than focus on who Morgan once was, Shirou saw her for what she was presently and knew her to be in the future.

Morgan's matter aside, Arturia had really done a number on Camelot's domestic situation. There was a reason why Merlin had been treading carefully with his words in regards to Duke Wellington and the other nobility who supported him. They were all related to matters of trade, infrastructure, and defence.

Killing them was going to have repercussions in the future, but did he blame Arturia? No, he did not. It was Duke Wellington and the other noble's fault for not realizing just how important Arturia took her wedding. From the stories that he'd heard from Tristan, Palamid, and the others, the Nobles should have known how devastated Arturia had been after losing him. To even suggest that another marriage candidate replace her was the same as spitting on her face, tying a rock around her ankles, and drowning her in a lake.

Shirou was honestly thankful that Arturia had the self-restrain within her not to draw her sword. No one would have lived.

Speaking of which, he sucked in a breath, it was about time. His gaze shifted towards a small unit of maids and butlers gathered from Camelot's staff gathered at the foot of the throne room. He'd requested their presence after driving out the other nobility in order to begin preparations for the coming wedding that came on such short notice.

Honestly, it must have been hard on them to drop everything on such short notice, but the maids and butlers looked particularly enthusiastic. It would seem that Arturia had been adored in her time of kingship.

He nodded towards them, and they nodded back. Evidently, they'd already been informed of their current tasks. He need only tell them where to set up. "West Cathedral hall," he gave the location of where Gawain had informed him was a suitable area.

The maids and butlers quickly left, leaving Shirou alone in the throne room where he sat. He sighed, his body leaning forward into a mentally exhausted slouch.

This was it. The time was coming. He was going to get married with the love of his life. A love that had even trespassed beyond the bounds of time.

As per tradition, the groom was not to see the bride until she'd fully made her preparations so no matter how much Shirou wished to see Arturia, he couldn't bring himself to. This wedding was important to both him and her, and he wouldn't do anything to ruin it. Therefore, it was best that he made the most of it and put aside all other complicated matters like Camelot's domestic situation and establishing his influence until later.

For now, personal preparations had to be made in case Morgan decided to interfere somehow. It was better to be safe then sorry, and he'd already begun to plan a course of action in his mind. Merlin shouldn't be the only individual Morgan should be weary of. He could be much worse if the wrong buttons were pressed.

Suddenly, a storm of rose petals descended upon a spot at the foot of the throne room.

Merlin.

Shirou could think of no other man who could transport himself in such a way, though Shirou did have to question why Merlin was sporting a black eye? No. Not important. Probably from some violent woman he'd tried to make a move on anyway. The forced abstinence due to deplorable rumours must be getting to Merlin for him to act so desperate to bed a woman.

Condolences. Shirou chose not to speak on the matter and instead asked a different question. "Where did you come from?" He asked as Merlin fully appeared, a limp in his stride.

"Well, if you must know, I brought along a few more people for tomorrow's reception on behalf of little Arturia," Merlin coughed into a hand while muttering something that suspiciously sounded like 'ungrateful brute.'

Reception? Merlin's reminder had caused Shirou to remember that he had more than just a cathedral that had to be prepared for the wedding. "Who did you bring?" He asked while sitting up and giving his full attention. It was only once in a blue moon that Merlin actually took the initiative on anything due to his laziness.

"I brought a person here or there," Merlin tapped his black circled-staff on the floor and caused a flurry of rose petals to fill the entire room in the shape of several figures. "Of course, I'll have to send them back when the wedding's over, but what matters is that they're here, right? As much of a handful as little Arturia is, there are times when a teacher has to act for the joy of his students."

So, Merlin really did know how to be a good person.

Merlin's eyes narrowed on Shirou. "You don't have to look so surprised," he accused.

Shirou grinned wryly, but his attention was soon shifted towards a white furred animal walking amidst the rose petals Merlin had summoned to transport certain guests. It resembled something like a dog with fluffy ears with a mantle around its neck.

Noticing where Shirou was looking, Merlin actually grimaced.

"Ah yes, don't mind this little guy," Merlin kicked the animal between his legs in admonishment. "He's a sort of hobby of mine that's more trouble than he's worth. Trust me, if I could ditch him I would."

Uhm, right. Shirou chose not to comment. Did Merlin not feel pain? The animal Merlin was referring to had just climbed up Merlin's robes and kicked him in the face in retaliation. Merlin was all smiles if not for the hand intent on enacting vengeance.

What exactly was that animal? Something inside Shirou screamed at him to be wary. By 'something,' he meant Agatha because the woman had paled within the confines of his inner landscape.

Well, Merlin should have it handled anyway.

The figures that Merlin had summoned with his rose petals had just about all arrived. Arturia was definitely going to be surprised for the next day. His wedding was all that mattered right now. Preparations needed to be complete and invitations sent.

He stood up from the throne and decided to take personal action in his growing impatience. There was work to be done in the pursuit of happiness. He'd searched for Arturia for so long, what was one more day?

The day of beginning had come not with showers of blood, or ominous clouds, but with radiant rays of sunlight amidst blue tranquil skies. The citizens of Camelot whispered excitedly amongst themselves. Although they wouldn't be participating in the wedding set for the late afternoon, it didn't stop them from shouting out their well wishes throughout town. Word had gotten out, and because of it, Camelot was the liveliest it had ever been since its establishment.

Even the patrolling Knights warned to keep their vigilance at all times couldn't help but smile as they made their rounds. Everyone had a spring in their steps. The lien of Uther wasn't dead, and better yet, Lord Ashton had an heir.

Happy times, happy occasions. They were rare occurrences in Britain after the Saxon invasion. Soon enough the late afternoon came with much festivities.

In contrast to the people of Camelot, the reception of the West Cathedral Hall was silent in formality. Marriage was a binding contract by God. They would celebrate after the fact, not during.

Shirou stood in front of the pedestal where a local priest was reading out prayers. He wasn't in a formal suit, but in a nobleman's attire fit for the occasion. A long mantle was draped over his right shoulder and the crest of House Ashton was displayed on a coat of arms on his chest. Unlike everyone else, Shirou was displaying an even greater air of solemnity at the current moment. He knew full well that the Age of the Gods had not yet fully ended in the current time period. This meant to say that the influence of the One God was very much present for the wedding. He didn't know what that entailed, but he did know that the One God was absurdly powerful. A single miracle granted upon Solomon by the One God paved the way for all Magi to research their crafts. Rin had told him of such knowledge in his past life.

Glancing at the wedding rings near the podium, Shirou could feel the aura of faith from the One God converging on them. In essence, the rings were proof of a contract. Objects that represented the love and faith between partners in marriage.

For once, Shirou prayed for future blessings as he knew the One God existed.

Near the front cathedral rows, Emily sat with Palamid and the Son of Wolfred. Despite Emily's feelings on the wedding itself, she still decided to be there for her childhood friends. Near Emily were Tristan, Lancelot, Agravain, Gawain, Gareth, and all the other people that Merlin had transported with his magic seated in the rows. Even Kay, bandaged and banged up was forcing himself to remain awake for his little sisters most important life event.

Finally, the time came for the bride to enter.

Oddly enough, Mordred of all people had been the one to awkwardly walk Arturia in; however, Mordred hastily beat a path to the cathedral rows and made herself look small when she realized that everyone had been staring at her and that she was wearing her armour to a formal event.

Arturia's expression said it all when she saw all the people that she cared about in attendance. Her eyes were glistening, her palms wiping away at them as she pursed her lips.

Simple was best. The only people that Merlin had brought were people that Arturia cherished the most and were there for her in her times of need. She swallowed audibly and nearly sobbed when Sir Ector stepped forward and offered her an arm so that he could escort her forward down the carpeted isle.

Right now, in this moment, regardless of what Arturia believed, she was the most beautiful that she'd ever been in her life. She was radiant. The ivory coloured wedding dress that Merlin had picked out for her long ago worn in full. It was frilled in places and matched with vibrant silk lace that made up the embroidery of the see-through veil over her head. Her head, though sloppy at places, was done up into an endearing bun courtesy of Mordred after much practice the previous day.

Satin white gloves that reached just passed Arturia's elbows were worn on both arms. On her feet where glass-like heels that Merlin had magically created to match with her dress.

She was breathtaking, and to Shirou it meant so much more than just to see her in a wedding gown. He'd never thought he'd see the day. Not since Saber had departed from his life.

Sir Ector escorted Arturia forward, their arms wrapped at the elbows.

Simultaneously, Shirou and Arturia stared across at each other down the isle; the paths of two souls finally meeting and facing each other at the conclusion of a crossroad.

'How long had he sought her?'

-How long had she waited?

It had been a wish upon the distant stars. A hope for reunion. An earnest plea and desire. The days that they'd spent together neither knowing what the future may bring, but both wishing for the best. Heart to heart. Emotion to emotion. This was the defining moment shared between a sword and a sheath.

'I wanted to see you.'

-I missed you dearly.

Through trials and tribulations, the two had come far from bumbling brats eating fried chicken and caught game within the distant lands of Bristol. They'd grown together, fought together, and lived together with sentiments that may not have been the best understood.

'Your safety was my priority.'

-You were my world.

The anguish in separation, forged bonds stronger than that of steel itself.

The two were directly across from each other at this point, Sir Ector letting go of his grip on Arturia's arm and allowing the both of them to face the priest at the podium.

They'd gone through many trails in life and had made many mistakes and decisions that they'd come to regret, but so what?

'Right here.'

-Right now.

Their lives led to a single point. The priest finished his prayers and recited through the procedures to be tied in matrimony.

"You may kiss the bride."

Shirou parted Arturia's veil, their lips soon touching one tipping up onto her toes, the other inclining his head. Tingles shot down from the back of the neck. Joy, elation, and longing, ephemeral and fleeting emotions that summed up to a single phrase. Happiness.

Three words resonated strongly within two hearts amidst the congratulatory reception.

I love you.

-I love you.

Now and forever more.

The two walked in companionable silence. The wedding had ended hours ago, but the celebration had lasted for far longer. In fact, both Shirou and Arturia may have been held until late in the evening by Kay and everyone else if not for Sir Ector, the sneaky old man's, insistence that the two retire for the night. The way that Sir Ector looked at Shirou as if passing on the most important of duties was not lost on him.

This was the moment. This was it.

"Don't worry," he held her hand. "We'll get through everything together."

Hand in hand, Arturia's complexion grew redder and redder the closer the two got towards the royal bed chambers. From where their hands met, both Shirou and Arturia could feel the rapid pounding of each others hearts.

The door of the bed room was opened, and slowly, methodically, it was Arturia that led Shirou to the bed and pulled him along with her when she lied down. Her face was so red at this point that Shirou was beginning to worry about the safety of her wellbeing, but her grip on his hand tightened when he tried to move in order to grab her some water to cool off.

"S-Stay," she muttered out nervously while pulling him close. How could he refuse?

The tingle of her breath pressed over his skin as she clumsily disrobed and covered herself beneath the bed sheets. From the expression of her eyes, she was waiting for him to do the same. He didn't wish to make anything awkward, so he willingly complied. Arturia was obviously trying to take the lead in the current matter, but she was horribly inexperienced. She froze up the moment the both of them were under the bedsheets.

It didn't matter. She never had to do anything on her own to begin with.

Under the cover of the blankets, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close, feeling the shudder that travelled down her bare back.

"Shirou." Arturia suddenly rolled to have Shirou positioned on top of her, pinning her between his arms. They were face to face such that Shirou could see the amorous light reflected in Arturia's teal coloured eyes.

"Yeah?" He replied.

"I love you." She arced her back up.

The feeling had always been mutual. He didn't need anymore prompting. He could feel the pent-up tension in the air.

Lying on the bed, foreheads pressed together and fingers tenderly intertwined, he eased himself into the warmth of her love and embrace, kissing her on the lips as she gasped and pulled him in deeper.

Rose petals danced in the breeze outside, a smile appearing over Merlin's lips as he partook of the two's fervent emotions from another room within the castle. All the while, the echo of the two's sentiments resounded in his mind; the innocence of it all sweeter than any nectar Merlin had ever tasted.

Till death do us part.

How cliché, Merlin stifled a laugh.

All the same, he as the watcher to an ongoing script could only ponder on what else the future may bring. He tapped the butt of his staff on the ground and watched as his body soon became a flurry of petals blown in the breeze.

Happiness or despair?

The two were on opposite sides of the same coin, and only time would tell of the outcome. Regardless, Merlin felt that he'd intruded enough. His students had grown, and that was enough of a victory.

Now here's to hoping that overseeing brats wouldn't be in his immediate future.

Rabbits. The damn both of them.