Even in the midst of all this, Kellive’s complexion remained unchanged from usual.
Only his golden eyes darkened slightly in the shadows.
The close distance made even breathing feel tense. Stepping back would make it seem like she was the only one conscious of it while he remained indifferent, but staying still was awkward.
So Morgana deliberately stiffened her posture and focused on channeling her power into him. She forced herself to keep her gaze fixed on his wound as she replied quietly.
“If anyone heard, they’d think I was draining Kellive dry.”
A soft puff of laughter escaped his lips, close enough to brush against her hair.
“That’s harsh. Do I really look so poor that Morgana could strip me bare?”
Kellive, who hadn’t even complained about his injury, let out a low chuckle.
“Why not try taking everything, then? I might be more careless than I seem.”
“People who are truly careless don’t say things like that.”
Until now, the Kellive she had observed was someone who hid much behind his composed demeanor.
Like how he always covered his wounds with gloves, the thoughts behind his easy smile remained unknowable.
Morgana lowered her eyes to his now-clean hand.
The bleeding had stopped, leaving only traces of what had been a palm scarred with layers of old wounds.
As she brushed her fingers over it, she could feel the rough texture of his skin.
For a moment, the pronounced knuckles of his fingers moved in sequence, as if interlacing with hers. His fingers lightly slotted between hers—not quite gripping, not quite untouched.
Just enough to feel, yet far too intimate.
Kellive’s voice dropped quietly.
“That wasn’t a joke.”
There was a restrained ease in his tone, mixed with a strange warmth. He tilted his head, persistently holding her gaze.
“If Morgana wanted Avalon, I would’ve given it to you long ago.”
“That’s—”
As she tried to pull back, his fingers tangled deeper with hers, and his breath tickled her nose.
“I know. You don’t need it.”
His tone, quite resolute from the start, seemed to anticipate her refusal.
He continued slowly, “But what can I do? To protect that Avalon, I killed even my brothers and father for this cursed crown.”
“…”
“Avalon may mean nothing to Morgana, but it’s all I have.”
His bangs lightly brushed against Morgana’s forehead.
“So if necessary, I’d gladly even give up Tyrving.”
Every expression and movement of his was unhurried, yet somehow it felt desperate.
An inexplicable exhaustion radiated from him.
Without realizing it, Morgana blurted out a question about that exhaustion.
“Why go this far? Is it because you want me to come to Avalon?”
“If you do come, of course, I’ve thought about building a labyrinthine room for you in the palace.”
“So you really won’t let me leave…!”
As Morgana jerked up to stand, he gently held her back with a slight force.
“If Morgana becomes the King of Britain and tries to strike me down, I’d at least want her to remember what I gave her—maybe then she’d spare me out of pity.”
“What kind of reason is that?”
Would he really wound himself for something so trivial?
Throwing money at her would’ve been enough.
After all, wasn’t the true essence of a bribe to leave a bitter aftertaste at the most crucial moment?
Kellive slowly stretched his lips into a smile, his eyes crinkling brightly.
“Well, isn’t it about leaving a memory in Morgana’s life?”
“Since when are memories so important…?”
“Surprisingly, people can find hope and nostalgia in the smallest things.”
It wasn’t entirely wrong, so Morgana couldn’t refute him rashly. Perhaps because it was the first magic tool she had personally commissioned.
Every time she saw it, Kellive came to mind.
Among the Britons, there were many with whom she shared good memories, so she couldn’t single out anyone in particular—but among the people of Avalon, the only one she remembered was Kellive.
Lightly, he bumped his forehead against Morgana’s with a soft—thud–, then straightened his leaning torso.
As the distance between them widened, the unfamiliar air of dawn finally became palpable.
It occurred to her anew that the night in the temple, scattered throughout the nearby forest, was slightly chilly.
Kellive merely fiddled playfully with his entwined hands.
Squirming her fingers free from his, Morgana cleared her throat awkwardly and changed the subject.
“So, h-how was the mansion in the Caledon Forest?”
“Hmm… We searched it thoroughly with the knights, but there was nothing of significance. It felt like someone had cleared everything out in advance.”
Indeed, the number of priests and clerics he had rescued and brought back was not small.
In fact, it was more surprising that the temple hadn’t noticed such numerous disappearances until now.
‘Then again, the Holy Kingdom has an overwhelmingly large number of priests to begin with.’
Thanks to Merlin lowering the barriers to becoming a cleric, their numbers had skyrocketed.
With oracles being delivered flawlessly, trust and preference for the temple must have soared to an undeniable degree.
Kellive, who had been staring at his now-empty hand with slight regret, clenched it lightly and continued.
“But there was an unusually strong stench of blood lingering there.”
Morgana subtly glanced at the handkerchief that had been wrapped around his hand. It was so thoroughly stained red that its original color was no longer recognizable.
‘That’s not his blood…?’
Given how many wounds he had, he must have bled profusely as well.
As if reading her thoughts, he quickly added an explanation, “It wasn’t my blood. It smelled older, more aged, you could say.”
“Ahem. N-not that I was doubting you, Kellive…”
Flustered, Morgana awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck. He gently tugged her arm. Pulled between his long legs as he sat on the bed, Kellive grinned up at her.
“See? Even after bleeding that much, the scent’s gone after healing.”
“Huh…?”
Now that she thought about it, the metallic stench of blood that had been so strong near the bonfire was no longer there.
Kellive nodded as if confirming the answer.
“You could say it’s thanks to Margen drinking blood. Once the wounds close, the scent disappears. It’s always been like that.”
“For a sword with the same supernatural ability, it leaves a very different impression compared to Excalibur.”
When she lowered her head and sniffed, his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. His smile deepened slightly as he suddenly grabbed Morgana’s arms and pushed her back, making her step backward.
Tilting her head in confusion, she noticed his expression grow complicated.
Finally letting out a deep sigh, he forced a stiff smile and continued speaking.
“…On my way here, I brought along a gift I thought Morgana would really like.”
He didn’t say he ‘brought’ it—he said he ‘brought it along.’
That meant it was alive. Kellive shrugged his shoulders, not giving a straightforward answer.
“I forcibly took it from the priests at the estate who were trying to hide it. Its condition isn’t great, so Gawain is looking after it. You can see it tomorrow morning.”
Given that he said he ‘took’ it, it probably wasn’t a person…
Morgana stared at him persistently, but Kellive showed no sign of saying more. He exhaled heavily again and stood up from his seat.
Morgana trailed after him, pestering him with questions.
“That’s it? Really? There’s nothing else? You’re leaving just like that?”
“You’re asking so many questions, I’d love to stay up all night answering them…”
He stopped at the door and reached out with his bare hand. Lightly grabbing her hair, he gave her a quick kiss, then slowly met her eyes as he murmured,
“But then things might get complicated.”
“…?”
Don’t tell me he actually went and plundered something.
Suspicion filled Morgana’s eyes, but he flashed her a carefree grin and turned away without hesitation.
“Alright. If you’re scared, you can come to my room. But give it some time—an hour or so?”
“I’m not going!”
“Smart choice.”
He shrugged and walked away with his usual friendly demeanor.
Today, his aura felt distinctly different.
Glaring at the closed door for no reason, she stomped over and threw herself onto the bed.
Bouncing lightly before flopping face-down, she finally heard Excalibur speak up belatedly.
—I was really desperate.
“What do you mean?”
—I sacrificed myself for my master. I didn’t even interfere. Ugh, why do I have to be so perceptive?
Morgana pouted at his words and buried her face completely in the pillow. She absentmindedly twirled the strand of hair he had kissed between her fingers.
‘He knows he’s too good-looking. Seriously…’
For some reason, she couldn’t shake the illusion that her body temperature rose slightly whenever she was near him.
💫
I didn’t get a wink of sleep.
Judging by Kellive’s gleaming face, unlike her, he at least seemed to have rested well.
‘No, wait. He worked hard all day in the Caledon Forest. He deserves to rest, right?’
The temple was not crowded early in the morning.
Only a few guards on duty, some priests, and Gawain were present.
Suddenly remembering that Kellive had mentioned entrusting a gift to him yesterday, Morgana quickly approached him, pretending to be familiar.
“Sir Gawain, good morning.”
“Ah, Lady Morgana. You’re up early? You look wonderful!”
Excalibur, hearing his response, scoffed in disbelief.
— Can’t he see the dark circles under your eyes? Maybe his eyesight’s a bit off.
Morgana lightly ignored his remark and smiled brightly.
Just as she was about to ask about the living creature Kellive had entrusted to him—
A chill ran down her back.
For some reason, she was afraid to turn around.
Meanwhile, Gawain, standing right in front of her, cheerfully greeted the person behind her.
“Oh, Holy One! Good morning! You look radiant today!”
The Nimue Morgana remembered always had a haggard expression.
‘So… Sir Gawain just doesn’t know how to read people’s complexions…’
Apparently, he said the same thing to everyone.
Steeling herself, Morgana turned around.
Immediately, Nimue’s even more pronounced air of decadence filled her vision.
She looked so frail that Morgana worried she might collapse any moment—yet even this was somehow sublimated by her breathtaking beauty.
Then, in a voice both secretive and quiet, Nimue abruptly spoke,
“So far, only three priests have shown talent in the ancient tongue. Two died, and one fled—their fate remains unknown.”
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