"..."
"..."
It was high noon.
The sun of Britain shone down upon Camelot's sky, casting its light upon the city.
The white stone streets gleamed under the heat, but no one paid it any mind.
Because—
Every single gaze was locked onto the young figure before them.
At his feet lay the shattered remains of the stone—
Fractured lines silently declared that its once-unbreakable existence had been undone.
In his hands, he held a sword—
Lifted high into the air.
The sun bathed its blade, and its surface gleamed with a radiance befitting of glory.
First, there was silence.
Then—
The crowd erupted into chaos.
"Did you all see that?! He pulled the sword out!"
"How is that even possible?! He doesn't look strong at all! He's not even someone who seems capable of such a feat!"
"This isn't right! Something is wrong! There's a trick to this!"
Voices flooded the air.
The gathered onlookers all murmured their doubts in different ways.
But amidst them all—
There were exceptions.
Like Gawain.
He stared wide-eyed at the young man who had drawn the sword.
His blue eyes—his mother Morgan's eyes—were filled with absolute disbelief.
But unlike the voices around him, his disbelief did not stem from doubt.
Rather—
It was the shock of witnessing a dream turn into reality.
Gawain had been the one who had attempted to pull the sword more than anyone else.
He knew better than anyone just how impossible it was.
And yet—
Someone had done it.
Was this real?
Or was this a dream?
Gawain clutched his head, unable to distinguish between the two.
His only response was to turn toward Rei, desperately seeking reassurance.
"Father... what do we do now?"
"..."
Rei's face was ashen.
Because unlike Gawain and the other bystanders—
His mind was consumed by an entirely different realization.
A royal child who was never supposed to exist—
A "proof" of kingship that had been kept secret even from them—
What if that proof had been none other than Arthur himself?
To prevent Morgan from interfering with Arthur's growth,
King Uther had Merlin erase his name through magic—
And then sent him far from the royal capital.
Because Arthur was born a woman,
He had been raised to believe otherwise—
Trained as a knight from birth.
Because Arthur had never appeared in Camelot,
His return had to be carefully staged.
It was all a lie.
A complete and utter deception.
The "Selection of the King"—
Was never a selection at all.
It was all just a predetermined process.
"Father."
Gawain's voice pulled Rei back from the depths of his fury.
"He's coming this way."
Rei lifted his gaze.
And there—
He saw Arthur approaching him.
The young knight walked with steadfast steps—
The sword he had just drawn still firmly in hand.
Every gaze followed him.
Every step he took brought him closer to Rei.
And Rei knew—
That something beyond his control was about to happen.
His amber eyes locked onto the young knight.
Arthur's movements were deliberate, unwavering.
And yet—
Rei could sense it.
Something had changed within him.
Yet at the same time—
Something had remained the same.
Was it magic?
Or was it something else entirely?
Before he could even process an answer,
A sudden warmth pressed against him.
Arthur's head had buried itself into his chest.
His arms wrapped around Rei's waist,
And in his grasp—
The sword he had just drawn remained tightly held.
Yes.
This was an embrace.
The first thing Arthur did after drawing the sword—
Was hug him.
"Sir Rei, thank you for coming."
A soft voice.
One only he could hear.
"I... I think I really did it."
The crowd did not hear this whisper.
But to Rei—
It was a cruel and bitter mockery.
His fingers slid toward the hilt of his own sword.
"Father."
Gawain's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You seem..."
He hesitated.
His gaze shifted toward Arthur, who was still embracing his father.
"You seem to know him?"
Before Rei could answer,
Arthur spoke first.
But this time—
The warmth in his voice had vanished.
It was cold.
Commanding.
A tone fit for a knight—no, for a king.
Completely different from the soft voice that had spoken to Rei moments ago.
If one had to compare—
It was like the rushing wind.
A force that moved forward without hesitation,
Never pausing, never looking back.
Or to put it simply—
Arthur had only reserved his gentleness for Rei alone.
Because she felt nothing toward anyone else, even her way of speaking had become somewhat distant—lacking any warmth.
"Yes. He is important to me."
She spoke with certainty.
[Gawain was shaken.]
[He never imagined that this seemingly frail boy, whose physique was far inferior to his own, could possess such an imposing presence.]
[He felt as if he had brushed against something profound.]
[But he knew this was not the time for him to speak.]
[So instead, he looked toward you.]
"..."
Rei silently withdrew his hand from his sword hilt.
He realized he had been impulsive.
At this moment, he could not act against Arthur.
Not because he feared the consequences—he was prepared to face any price.
But because he could not allow Morgan to be caught in the fallout.
Revealing Arthur's true gender was also not an option.
The magic Merlin had cast was clearly still in effect—
Even Gawain had not sensed anything amiss.
That left only one choice.
Endure.
Rei forced himself to suppress every ounce of rage,
And with a feigned smile, he looked toward Arthur.
He carefully stepped away from her embrace—
Then spoke, his voice warm yet hollow:
"This has nothing to do with me.
Your own efforts led to this moment."
"Arthur, congratulations."
"You are the first knight to draw the sword."
As Camelot's Prince Consort in name, Rei's acknowledgment carried immense influence.
The murmuring crowd was instantly set ablaze.
Arthur became the center of all attention—
The people of Camelot fixed their gazes upon the young knight who had drawn the sword.
They failed to notice the rapid shift in Britain's fate.
They failed to notice Rei's tightly clenched fists.
[Silently, you left the gathering.]
[You headed straight for the royal palace.]
[You made your way to Morgan's private workshop—her sanctuary for magic research.]
[You were the only one who knew how to enter this place.]
"Princess."
"Hm?"
Morgan turned around.
Seeing Rei, her previously furrowed brows relaxed slightly.
"Foolish knight," she said, her voice laced with amusement,
"You should take better care of your precious lance."
Her fingers traced lightly across Rei's chest.
"It would be a shame... if something unfortunate were to happen to it."
"Princess, your concern humbles me."
"However—"
"However?"
Sensing the shift in his tone,
Morgan's gaze sharpened.
"Rei, you know I hate when people stall."
Rei's expression grew heavier.
He tried to soften the words—to find a way to make them less cruel.
But there was no way to do so.
There was only the truth.
"Princess."
"Arthur… has drawn the sword from the stone."
"..."
Morgan froze.
Her blue eyes, always so poised and elegant,
Lost all color.
In their place—
An abyss of disbelief.
"Rei—say that again. That is an order."
Having already spoken once,
Rei knew he could not waver now.
"Princess."
"Arthur… has drawn the sword from the stone."
"I saw it with my own eyes."
The world around Morgan fell still.
Her pale skin seemed even whiter—
As if all the blood had drained from her body.
A wordless silence filled the room,
Snuffing out even the possibility of speech.
For a long while,
Morgan's voice finally emerged—
Trembling.
"Why her?"
"What right does she have to pull the sword?"
"This doesn't make sense!"
"Princess…"
Seeing Morgan shaking in fury,
Rei felt his heart ache.
"Arthur… may be the child we were never able to find."
"..."
Morgan froze again.
Her gaze was completely vacant—
Even her blue eyes seemed to have fallen into darkness.
"Rei—"
Her voice broke into a furious snarl.
"Then you should have killed her when you met her at the wall!"
"Yes, Princess. You are correct."
Rei knelt before her, bowing his head.
"This is my failure."
"Please punish me as you see fit."
[You deliberately took all the blame upon yourself—]
[Hoping to give Morgan an outlet to vent her fury.]
[But she was not so easily swayed.]
[She quickly saw through your deception.]
"No, Rei."
Morgan's hands were trembling.
"Merlin will never let you do that!"
"You cannot kill her."
Paper can never conceal fire.
"..."
Faced with Morgan's question, Rei could only remain silent.
But that silence was already the answer.
"How could this happen…?"
"How could this happen? How could this happen?!"
Morgan clutched her forehead, muttering the same phrase over and over.
The deep-rooted obsession in her soul made her feel lightheaded.
She collapsed.
[Morgan has fallen ill once again.]
[As her husband in name, you did not leave her side.]
[Each night, you heard the sound of her weeping.]
[It felt as if your heart was being torn apart.]
[But all you could do was stay by her side in silence.]
[For you were her most loyal knight.]
[And a knight never harbors resentment toward his princess.]
"Goodnight, Princess."
Rei tucked Morgan in, then leaned against the bedside.
This was how he had spent every night lately—keeping himself within reach
So that he could respond the moment she needed him.
Yet, truthfully—
Rei was exhausted.
His very soul wandered alongside Morgan's obsession,
Like a traveler on a path with no end in sight.
There was no turning back.
But he felt no regrets.
His eyelids began to close,
Sleep was beginning to claim him—
Until—
"Rei."
Morgan's voice rose from the darkness.
"I am here, Princess."
"I want to hear you say you love me."
Her voice was soft, but clear.
"I love you, Princess."
Rei responded without hesitation.
"Why don't you even pause to think?"
"Because I am always thinking of ways to express my love for you, Princess."
"Rei, that makes your love sound cheap."
"You're right, Princess. Anything in excess loses its value."
"Can't you stop answering so perfectly?"
"That is only because your questions are perfect, Princess."
"..."
Morgan sat up and leaned against Rei's shoulder.
Her silken silver hair cascaded over his arm.
She looped her arm through his, speaking softly—
"Rei, you must be exhausted these past few days."
"Are you growing tired of me?"
"Princess, I do feel some fatigue."
Rei squeezed her hand, warming it as much as he could.
"But I have never tired of you—your body is a maze I have yet to fully explore."
"You really dare to say that? Aren't you afraid I'll get mad?"
"I am."
"But I will wait, Princess—until you are no longer angry."
"And what if I never stop being angry?"
"Then I will wait forever."
Hearing this, Morgan pinched his hand—a small tantrum she always threw when she couldn't win an argument.
But the gesture didn't last long.
Morgan spoke again.
"Rei, what if I said—"
She didn't get to finish.
Because Rei had already answered the rest of her sentence.
"You still refuse to give up?"
"You understand me well."
Morgan turned her face away slightly.
"Of course I do."
"Because I refuse to give up as well."
Rei's gaze sharpened with unwavering resolve.
"I will never acknowledge any king but you."
"Especially one who rises to the throne through deceit."
"I will spread rumors, sow chaos, and incite unrest—I will do everything possible to stop her."
Morgan looked up at the man beside her.
"Rei, that sounds… dishonorable."
"It is. It is disgraceful."
Rei nodded.
"Which is why I will be the one to do it."
"Princess, you need never touch anything tainted."
"..."
A single tear slid down Morgan's cheek—
Disappearing into the darkness.
She slowly pulled back the covers.
Her legs parted slightly,
And then—
She climbed onto his lap.
Wrapping her arms around his neck,
She whispered into his ear—
"Rei, tonight… be my resting steed."
"I…"
Morgan's breath tickled his skin.
"Suddenly feel like… riding a horse myself."