Author: Nikss

🗡️ 

 

The boy checked Morgana and Arthur, then asked cautiously.

 

“Are you the ones who tried the herb?”

 

Arthur held up his bandaged arm, now out of habit.

 

Cadric glanced at it, squinted, and then pulled the sack of money from his arm and held it out.

 

“I’ll pay you any amount of money to get me that herb I want.”

 

Morgana stared at the sack of what must have been quite a bit of money.

 

Fed up, Cadric shook the sack in his hand once and snapped.

 

“What, is it not enough? I didn’t know the amount, so I only brought this, but I can give you more if you come to the Count of Equator.”

 

“Young master. I do not need money.”

 

Morgana shrugged dismissively. It was a bit of an offense, even for me.

 

“It’s a herb that so many people want, and that you’ve come to me, so you should at least give me something different if you want me to sell it.”

 

Cadric’s face contorted in embarrassment at Morgana’s words.

 

Morgana looked like she was about to cry, and he felt bad for her.

 

“Money is all I can give you. Tell me what you want, and I’ll see if I can get it for you…”

 

Oh, dear, this was going to be hard.

 

Morgana tilted her head in an effortless suggestion.

 

“Have you written a letter of recommendation for a maid recently?”

 

“Letter, if it’s a letter of recommendation, I should know.”

 

“Tell me who you gave it to, when, and how much, and I’ll give you some herbs.”

 

Cadric hesitated at Morgana’s answer.

 

Perhaps he was being asked to give away family secrets, and he didn’t want to give a straight answer.

 

He hesitated, then looked up at her again, cautiously.

 

“My information may not be of much use to you. Most of the letters of recommendation are handled by me, the maid, and the butler…”

 

He bit his lip and stared at the floor for a moment.

 

Still avoiding eye contact, Cadric spoke up, frustrated.

 

“Ever since my father injured his arm, he’s been unpredictable.”

 

“Can you tell me a little more?”

 

He asked, tilting his head as if to double-check.

 

“I need to know if you can really heal my father’s arm. It’s a family affair, and I’m taking it very seriously.”

 

If he was this determined, Morgana would have to give him an answer.

 

Standing haughtily, she unclasped her arms and looked at him.

 

“I’m sure of it. If you’re lying, you can cut me down on the spot.”

 

Arthur flinched beside him at Morgana’s answer.

 

Cadric hesitated, even after he was assured, then glanced at Arthur’s arm and blurted out.

 

“My father was the first to post an exhortation to His Grace, many, many years ago.”

 

He seemed to be referring to the purge of House Pendragon.

 

His use of the word ‘exhortation’ suggests that he, like his father, believes the purge was a bad decision.

 

It seems that the loyalist family’s values have not changed.

 

Cadric clenched his fists and spoke.

 

“That angered the king, and he cut off my father’s arm that day, and he’s been a little strange ever since.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Before, he taught his Knights to be proud, even of themselves. My father is a follower of Britain, before Vortigern…”

 

Morgana lifted her forefinger to the corner of her mouth, in case anyone was listening.

 

Understanding the gesture to keep his voice down, Cadric spoke in a low, muffled voice.

 

“He’s not a follower of the King, he just wants Britain to do well, and he’s always said that the King’s word is infallible.”

 

Hmm… that was definitely odd.

 

Unconditional obedience from someone whose advice would get his arm cut off by King Vortigern.

 

“He hasn’t spoken to me since then, saying he doesn’t need me.”

 

Cadric shook his head bitterly. His voice trailed off as if remembering the past.

 

“We used to spend so much time together, and now he won’t even look at me.”

 

“You think it’s because of the arm?”

 

“He’s like a different person since he got hurt. During the day he doesn’t show any signs of it, but at night he’s shaking and breaking out in a cold sweat in his dreams.”

 

‘Is this a typical pattern for an injured person?’

 

I know there are after-effects, but something just doesn’t add up.

 

Weirdly, it’s only at night, because he’s so well during the day.

 

Morgana nodded in understanding.

 

“Okay. Then bring me the information about the letter of introduction, and I’ll give you the herbs for the day.”

 

“Very well, please do.”

 

With a bow, uncharacteristic of a Count’s young lord, he descended the stairs to the second-floor rooms of who knows where.

 

Even after Cadric had disappeared, Morgana stood where she was, arms folded, still, gathering her thoughts.

 

She turned to Arthur, who stood silently beside her.

 

“Arthur, what if I scared him off?”

 

“I’ll kill him.”

 

“You wouldn’t feel like he’d have no choice but to comply, would he?”

 

“Usually when you’re scared, you have no choice but to follow.”

 

He’s right. Most people would only move reluctantly under duress, not voluntarily.

 

“That’s definitely weird. For someone who was injured.”

 

Suddenly, my confidence began to waver a bit.

 

Until then, I had assumed it was just a sword wound.

 

I figured herbs and healing would take care of it.

 

But what if it wasn’t a wound…?

 

What if it wasn’t a death wound…?

 

🗡️  

 

As Morgana descended to the first floor in serious life-and-death contemplation, Raon greeted her with a broad, over-the-top smile.

 

“Ah, miss!”

 

It was awkward since they hadn’t seen each other that often.

 

Sensing Morgana’s frown, Raon gestured to a table in the corner of the room.

 

“Alas, this brown-haired man here has been waiting for you for quite some time…”

 

The man in front of Morgana’s eyes had dark hair and golden eyes. It was Confucius.

 

‘Is that what they call brown in Britain?’

 

Morgana didn’t understand why people kept calling him brown.

 

Confucius slowly rose from his seat. He was still well-dressed, but not overdressed.

 

He seemed to like the color black, given that he always wore dark clothes.

 

As he approached, Arthur quietly stepped in front of Morgana and asked.

 

“What brings you here?”

 

“You’ve grown a lot in the short time I’ve known you, and I’m impressed with your arms.”

 

His voice was surprisingly dry and devoid of his usual smile.

 

Nudging Arthur’s back, Morgana examined him.

 

“Is something bothering you? You don’t look good.”

 

“…Not good?”

 

“Not fine.”

 

He clicked his tongue briefly, then took a step closer, smiling as brightly as ever.

 

“I guess I was nervous that you wouldn’t be in the tavern, so maybe I could talk to you for a while on good terms?”

 

“You may speak with me.”

 

Arthur made no move to step aside.

 

Standing in front of him, Kellive locked eyes with Arthur and whispered.

 

“The escort can wait. I have news the Lady will be pleased to hear.”

 

He was a man of Avalon, after all. A land of great magic.

 

He knew the wizarding streets and was far more knowledgeable than Morgana.

 

The main hall. After a moment’s hesitation, he pointed to the second floor and asked Raon.

 

“Do you mind if I use it?”

 

“Uh, come on, I don’t want to get cut off here.”

 

He looked at the sweets with interest, then wistfully took a bite.

 

When Morgana stared at him with an expression that was neither a frown nor a scowl, Raon shrugged quickly.

 

“We discussed it sometime.”

 

Morgana gave Arthur’s arm a quick squeeze and arched an eyebrow.

 

“I’ll be right back.”

 

She gave him a quick nod and ran up to the second floor.

 

Unlike her, Kellive took his time.

 

As soon as he was in and the door closed behind him, Morgana slammed one hand on the wall.

 

Trapped between her and the wall, Kellive blinked hard, then let out a weak, muffled laugh.

 

“So you’re pretty good at sneaking around, so what am I supposed to do?”

 

‘Do what? Answer the question.’

 

Morgana looked up at him nervously, and then asked a question.

 

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