The square in Camelot was bustling with excitement once again. It was nothing more than the crowd that had gathered after hearing about Mélusine's knighting ceremony. It was no wonder they liked to join in the excitement. After all—who could have imagined that Mélusine, who had only been here for a few days, was already qualified to be knighted into the Round Table? One must know... that was a status equal to the "monster," Ian. Not to mention, she was a woman! Thinking of it this way, the strength of the knight named Mélusine was probably on a level beyond imagination.
However—what they didn't know was that the Mélusine standing there at that moment was actually a little panicked. Although she claimed to be a knight from across the sea, in reality... she had never received any kind of knighting ceremony before. That's right. The so-called title of knight was one she had given herself. Now that she was truly about to receive the honor from Artoria, Mélusine found herself becoming rather nervous. But, just at that moment, a hand patted her shoulder.
"It'll be fine. I believe in you—" The one who said this was none other than the only person who could be called a "Knight of the Round Table" thus far: Ian himself. "..." Remembering the words Artoria had said to her, looking at Ian again, Mélusine's feelings were complex in every sense of the word. He possessed a pure enough strength, the kind of direct power that even she acknowledged. But at the same time, his perception was so... unique.
"You..." Mélusine sighed helplessly. "I'm not nervous. But, thank you for your concern." After saying this, Mélusine took a few steps forward, putting a small distance between herself and Ian. She didn't want the approaching Artoria to mistake her for an enemy. "The King is here!" someone in the crowd shouted.
Soon, everyone's gaze focused over. Dressed back in her usual royal attire, Artoria walked over step by step. Her expression was solemn, her eyes serious. Aside from her relatively petite frame, one could never imagine that she was a girl. But even so—now that she knew of Artoria's feelings for Ian, Mélusine noticed many things that were off. That's right. Even on an occasion like this, Artoria was actually paying close attention to Ian. It was a look that someone not in the know would easily mistake as a king's approval of their chief knight. But Mélusine knew that wasn't it at all. It is a love that cannot be reached. A feeling that cannot be confessed with words. If the identity of King Arthur wasn't weighing on her, Mélusine felt the Artoria before her would probably throw herself directly at Ian. But... the reality of the situation dictated that such a thing could never happen. She was the best King for Britain, the most suitable King. Such a passionate expression of emotion would probably never happen. Thinking of this, Mélusine couldn't help but feel a little sad.
Tap. Tap. The King's long boots stepped across the ground. Artoria arrived in front of Mélusine. "Sir Mélusine." "Your Majesty." The petite swordsman and the King of Britain met each other's gaze. It was almost the exact same picture as when Ian and Artoria looked at each other. "Sir Mélusine, are you willing to swear your fealty to me?" Artoria asked, yet her gaze couldn't help but drift in Ian's direction. In her heart, the only one who could truly be called a Knight of the Round Table was probably him alone.
Mélusine, of course, understood this as well. So, faced with Artoria's almost perfunctory question, she simply gave a polite nod in return. No knightly rituals. No further exchange. All that remained was another meeting of Artoria's and Mélusine's eyes. The former's gaze seemed to say one thing: "I'm sorry that your knighting ceremony is so perfunctory." And the latter's gaze gave a reply: "It's alright. You forgave my many mistakes. I, in turn, will offer my protection to your feelings for Ian!"
"May glory bless you, my knight," Artoria said, concluding Mélusine's knighting ceremony with a simple and sincere sentence. "Sir Mélusine, you will surely achieve great deeds." "Wooo—!" Cheers erupted in the square. The people of Camelot were overjoyed at the birth of the second Knight of the Round Table. A ballad began to spread through the crowd. "O, wise King." "Your subjects will surely increase like bamboo shoots after the rain." "You will lead Camelot to glory once more." Artoria and Mélusine met each other's eyes again. Without another word, they gradually walked into the distance amidst the cheers of the people.
"Thank you, Sir Mélusine." "There's no need to call me that in private." "You're right... Come on, tell me more about Ian!" Mélusine clutched her chest, disguising the action as if she were swearing an oath of fealty to Artoria. "I'll help you keep him!" "...Mhm." Artoria nodded. She found she had gained a good accomplice.
The people did not know that King Arthur and the second Knight of the Round Table, Mélusine, had reached a secret agreement. They were still immersed in that rare joy. Ian was no exception. It's just that his joy was a little deeper than that of an ordinary person. Mélusine was his good friend, a friend whose great strength he acknowledged. And now, such a friend had become a Knight of the Round Table alongside him, able to help Artoria realize her wish. "This is truly wonderful." "Is it really?" a familiar voice came. Morgan had, at some point, emerged from the crowd and come to Ian's side. She was now wearing very inconspicuous clothing, making her difficult to recognize at first glance. It was clear that after secretly watching Mélusine's coronation, she did not wish to be recognized by others for some reason. So in the end, she could only approach Ian alone like this.
"Your Highness..." "Hmph. You finally got it right this time," Morgan smiled faintly. After glancing left and right, she quickly blew a soft breath next to his ear and said gently, in words that were simple and clear: "Come find me tonight—don't let anyone find out. You know how to do that, don't you?"
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