Morgana felt awkward and fidgeted with her fingers resting in his hand.
“Either way, if you’re going to attend the banquet, you’ll have to leave your room, won’t you?”
And once she stepped out, she would inevitably run into Kellive, who was waiting for her. She couldn’t understand why he looked so pleased about something so obvious and mundane.
Even to her meaningless remark, he nodded sincerely and listened attentively.
“You’ll be the first one I see, after all.”
Well, that was only because he had driven away Gawain, who had been there before.
Come to think of it, unlike the room where even her handmaidens had been waiting, the hallway was empty except for him.
Not even the usual guards were in sight.
Morgana glanced around the hallway.
Purple walls with golden carved pillars. Ornate frames hanging on the walls.
Dragon statues placed at regular intervals.
Even a large, golden magic stone that seemed oddly out of place, its meaning unclear.
‘Were these things here when I first entered the palace…?’
Fundamentally, it was a royal palace, so it was expected to have a restrained opulence compared to a temple.
But it wasn’t normally this cluttered with decorations.
‘Why are all the magic stones golden?’
The magic stones she had seen before came in various colors.
Since their purpose mostly relied on the magic stored within, their color was usually irrelevant.
After noting the sharp glint in Kellive’s eyes beneath his curved brows, Morgana’s gaze shifted to his brooch.
Perhaps misunderstanding her interest, Kellive tilted his chin slightly and gestured toward it.
“Do you like it?”
“It just seems different from other magic stones. Are all magic stones golden these days?”
“It’s a classic color. Nothing strange about it.”
Technically, he wasn’t wrong, but…
As she tilted her head, puzzled by the strange sense of déjà vu, they reached the entrance of the Great Hall.
A servant standing before the massive arched door brightened upon seeing Morgana and bowed deeply.
“What an honor to see you like this, Lady Morgana!”
His eyes, brimming with anticipation, even seemed to hold reverence for her—But in the next moment, they were obscured by Kellive’s shoulder as he stepped forward.
“Honor indeed.”
Her upright posture was positioned conveniently for easy entry as soon as the attendant announced.
Before she could even feel a hint of suspicion, the attendant’s booming voice called her name.
“His Highness Kellive Avalon and Her Grace Morgana Le Fay are entering!”
The door blocking their path swung open silently.
A flood of intense light poured in, and the dazzling chandelier was the first thing that caught her eye.
The grand music of the orchestra, resonating from the second floor, flowed smoothly through the air.
The nobles, upon recognizing Morgana and Kellive, bowed their heads in unison with practiced grace.
“We greet His Highness Kellive and the master of the holy sword, Lady Morgan.”
Kellive nodded subtly at Morgan, signaling her.
It was a cue to greet them. But how was she supposed to respond in such a situation?
Morgana maintained her composure and returned the greeting as naturally as possible.
“Please, raise your heads. Thank you for welcoming us!”
From somewhere in the distance, a youthful voice squealed excitedly.
“I got a greeting from Lady Morgana!”
“I can’t believe she’s really here in Avalon. Is this a dream?”
“Shh, girls. Shh!”
Though the crowd obscured the view, a scolding voice followed, reprimanding the immature young ladies.
Morgana averted her gaze and scanned the surroundings.
Unlike what she had seen in the temple, everyone—regardless of gender—was adorned with excessive jewelry.
Amidst it all, the golden dress was worn by Morgana alone.
As Kellive raised his hand, the music seamlessly transitioned into a light tune for the first dance.
The first dance, shared with one’s partner immediately after entering.
Such a thing would never be seen in the austere temple, but it was a customary part of any formal banquet.
Amid the nobles naturally assuming their positions, Kellive pressed a kiss to the back of Morgan’s hand and bowed his head.
“The honor is mine, Morgana.”
That’s right. Attending a banquet meant she had to dance.
Following the sequence, Kellive closed the distance, his arm wrapping around her waist.
She had always known he was tall, but standing so close that she could almost touch him with the slightest movement felt unfamiliar.
When Morgana hesitated and stepped back, he tightened his grip on her hand.
“Relax. The dance won’t devour you.”
“Who knows? I might end up tripping Kellive first.”
She had never danced before.
Well, between being a maid and running away… I never had the chance to attend a normal banquet like this!
She had learned the basics in a hurry while with Duke Fay, but only in theory. She had zero practical experience.
Glancing down at her pointed shoes, she agonized.
What if I just heal him with magic right after stepping on him?!
Just as she was inwardly nodding at her own brilliant idea—Kellive’s foot slid into place beside hers.
“I doubt you’ll catch me that easily.”
“I’ll apologize in advance. I’ve never danced before, so I might make a few mistakes.”
When she looked up, Kellive, who loomed over her, smiled slowly.
Morgan, feeling a pang of guilt, corrected herself.
“…A lot of mistakes.”
“Then forget everything you think you know.”
The moment he finished speaking, the music began.
As she awkwardly tried to mimic the couples around her, Kellive stopped her with a hand on her waist.
From a distance close enough for their foreheads to touch, he whispered,
“Move your right foot to make space. Just enough for me to step in.”
When the stiff Morgana shifted her foot, Kellive smoothly took the lead.
“Now turn left.”
His fingers lightly brushed her waist, tickling her enough to make her twist naturally.
Kellive caught her again, seamlessly matching the movements of the other dancers.
Amazed, Morgana’s eyes sparkled as she whispered, “Wow. Kellive, did you see that? Maybe I’m a natural at dancing!”
“Care for another song?”
“Gladly!”
As she moved her feet, his steps guided the path.
With every twirl, the better her dress flared, the brighter her mood became.
Each time she moved, his bangs brushed softly against Morgana’s forehead, tickling her. She couldn’t tell whether her slightly giddy feeling came from the dreamlike moment of a wealthy, ordinary life she had always imagined—or because of Kellive.
When Morgana lifted her head after the second dance and their greetings ended,
Only then did she notice the surrounding gazes.
For some reason, everyone looked… oddly pleased.
‘What did I just do…?’
It was strange.
Among them, one person stood out the most.
“Oh, long time no see.”
A confident wave, flowing lavender hair. Slightly prominent fangs peeking out whenever she spoke.
Morgana blinked, then covered her mouth.
“Sir Aide?!”
He was the mage sent from the Magic Tower to dismantle the summoning circle in Britain
For some reason, though he had draped the formal white uniform carelessly—completely disregarding protocol—the look was both unfamiliar and familiar.
Very few could attend a royal banquet in such a free-spirited manner. Aide, looking annoyed, roughly tousled his long hair and grumbled.
“The invitation said the dress code was ‘the most extravagant in the world,’ didn’t it?”
“Dress code…?”
Morgana didn’t remember saying that.
As she tilted her head in confusion, Kellive smoothly joined the conversation.
“You two know each other?”
“Ah, yes. She helped me in Britain. I had no idea you’d be attending the banquet!”
She had been meaning to properly thank her.
Aide, blinking with the same innocent eyes as when they first met, tilted his head and replied, “Everyone was joining the fight for the Holy Sword, so the Magic Tower decided to join in too.”
“…The Magic Tower?”
“Yep. My Magic Tower.”
Wait, whose Magic Tower?
It took her a moment to process his words.
As Morgana stared at Isolde with her mouth slightly open, he casually glanced around and asked,
“So, is there anything for me to dismantle this time?”
As if the royal palace would have something like that!
Morgana pressed a hand to her forehead and took a deep breath.
His Magic Tower…?
“Wait—are you the Tower Master?”
“Yeah. You didn’t know?”
“No…”
“Kellive must’ve known, though.”
Tilting his head innocently, Isolde studied Morgana with mild curiosity.
Kellive had only mentioned sending a mage—never the Tower Master himself.
Even the casual way he said Kellive’s name hinted at their familiarity. But it seemed even Kellive hadn’t anticipated this.
“You never budge, even when I send letters. What brought you out of the Tower this time?”
When Kellive asked with a hollow smile, a faint glint flickered in Isolde’s crimson eyes.
After sweeping a glance around, he licked his lips and answered plainly, “Because Lady Isolde died.”
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