ARTIZEA
AT THE BREATH OF DAWN, the sun inserted itself through the linen curtains, like an uninvited guest at a wedding, like a distant cousin, or family friend of a friend, and last to leave.
It swept across the room, revealing Eric stirring behind Artizea. For a moment, he simply watched her chest peacefully rising and falling. Marriage had been their dream for so long, but time had made the waiting unbearable. At last, they gave in, succumbing to desire as well as treading the lines of a crime punishable by exile or worse. Yet, seeing Artizea's joy while she admired the lantern, he could not bring himself to regret anything. Then, Realization kicked in, either he had gone blind or his lazy eye was on the fritz, again, because surely, no woman had the god given right to look this fuck-able after being thoroughly fucked already.
"Crown Princess…" He purred. Dragging the words as slowly before sinking his teeth gently into her cold ear.
Artizea's eyes opened slowly, giving him a sheepish smile. "You are still alive…" she said Hoarsely.
"Still alive," he mocked her tone.
They both knew this could not last, but for now, they let themselves pretend it could.
"If my father finds out…"
"He won't…" Eric interrupted. He reached out, brushing a strand of her fiery hair away from her face, brushing a kiss to her temple. "However, I should go before anyone notices."
"Arthur won't say anything as long as you do not give him a reason to. Do not poke the bigger bear, Eric," she said.
He broke into a wide grin. "You let me worry about the Prince. He's not as scary as you make him seem."
Artizea rolled her eyes. "You speak as if you know my brother better than I." He hummed at his statement."I Hate This, sneaking around," she added.
"It is the price we pay," he said softly, cupping her face in his hands. "But for you, I would pay it a thousand times over."
Artizea searched his eyes.In Eric, she found a sense of freedom she could not grasp in the confines of the court. The weight of her responsibilities faded, and for a moment, she was just a woman—desirable, desired, and free to love. "You are so cheesy…" she muttered. with a sigh.
Eric reached for her, closing the little distance. "I know," he murmured against her lips before capturing them in a kiss that left no room for argument.
He had not asked her what she wished for, but if she was honest, she did not wish for anything. She had nothing to wish for; she had everything anyone could wish for in this life, so what right did she have to take away someone else's chance at happiness? When she already had hers, right? She glanced at her, said happiness, now attempting to leave, she frowned, then shifted, pinning him back down, and grinned. "I wish for you to stay." She commanded.
Eric's lip twitched, and so did his grip on her waist. With a growl of restraint, he planted his feet and lifted her just slightly, rolling his hips upward with a sharp, deep thrust. A gasp slipped from Artizea's throat, but it was cut short by the sudden click, and the door swung open. She lunged, clamping a hand over Eric's mouth just in time.
"A-Arthur… You are up early—" she stutttered.
"Cut the shit—" came Arthur's groggy voice.
They flinched.
"I am the last one up. Mother's already heading to the cottage, Elaine's off doing her forest stuff…" He lazily yawned, shuffling into the room, "I found Eugene passed out in that dusty ass library. Turns out he did have a test. I just tucked him in, wouldn't expect to see him until midday, and Father would just have to deal with th—Oh my gods—"
Both Artizea and Eric froze mid-breath.
But Arthur was not looking at them. His attention had locked onto something far more sacred. "Cherries!" he squealed in delight, lunging toward the bowl perched on the dresser. He popped one in his mouth with a satisfied hum. "And—weneed to talk," inspecting the stem.
"We do?"
"We do, cause you are hiding something from me, hiding things—"
Artizea blinked, then turned to Eric and glared at him. "Why would you think that…" she murmured.
"Do not think I have forgotten Dawn Rite," he scoffed, "I mean, what were you thinking…" inspecting another cherry before, pop.
Artizea felt it under the sheet. He grinned beneath her palm. The bastard, her hand still over his mouth.
Arthur's back was to them while strolling over to the dresser, "As your gods given brother and closest ally since birth, I should know these things." The moment he swallowed another cherry was the second when his eyes caught on another precious relic. Artizea's dagger with a red-jeweled hilt. "Hey, Tiz?" his brows furrowed. "Did something happen last night?" he mumbled, putting down the cherry bowl to pick it up, turning at last only to still. He saw Eric first, then Artizea. Then… regrettably, everything else. In slow motion, the dagger slipped from his hands and landed square in his boot. Good thing he was wearing them. "Fuck!" He barked, hopping once, gripping his toe in agony.
Artizea flinched, instinctively moving to help, but immediately stopped, realizing it was an impossible task. But it was too late. Eric's grip tightened on her waist, groaning, his body tensed beneath her.
Arthur looked back up at them slowly, lips parted in disbelief and horror at what he had just witnessed from a front row seat. There was a long, painful silence. Then, he drew in a deep breath, composed himself, and raised both hands in surrender. "I was never here," he said flatly. "I know nothing."
"Arthur, wait—" Artizea began.
Arthur shot her a glare, then slowly backed toward the door. "I. Know. Nothing." He shut the door behind him with a Slam.
Another beat of silence passed before Eric let out a deep chuckle. Artizea dropped her head onto his chest and huffed.
When she finally made her way down to breakfast, her eyes were locked on Arthur the moment she stepped into the dining hall. He was already seated at the table, casually buttering a slice of bread like nothing had happened just a few hours ago, nor did he acknowledge her presence.
As Artizea sat across from him, she narrowed her eyes, waiting for it, some snide comment, A smug look, or a slip of the tongue. But nothing came.
Elaine, as usual, entered last, her cheeks rosy from her early morrow ride. Her riding boots clicked against the polished marble floor, and the hem of her riding cloak trailed behind her while she made her way to the table.
"Late again, Elaine," Arthur teased.
"What can I say, Stolas needed the exercise." She replied cheerily while plucking an apple from a bowl when she passed.
"You mean you needed the exercise?" Artizea said, reaching for her cup of tea, and was met with Arthur, who looked up and gave her one singular glare made of pure sibling judgment. Something she had never seen before. She froze mid-reach. He held her gaze for one more second, then went back to his eggs, saying—
"If you ask me, she gets too much exercise," he murmured.
That was meant for her.
Elaine grinned, taking her seat next to Eugene, whose nose was already buried in a thick tome, one hand absently stirring his porridge.
"Good morrow to you, too, Brother." She said, leaning closer to peek at the book's title.
"It certainly is morrow," Eugene murmured, not looking up.
Arthur pointed his spoon at him, "Can you not leave the books for one meal? Dear Gods, you neither eat nor sleep. Are you trying to ascend to Celestia?"
Eugene glanced up briefly, beneath his bangs, "No one ascends to Celestia," He said flatly. "That is a myth Mother told you because you never slept."
Arthur threw his hands up. "I was not ready to sleep!" He then turned to his mother with growing suspicion. "Mother, tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, how much of my life is fiction?" He narrowed his eyes. "Is Excalibur even real?"
Arthuria waved him off. "Of course it is, Son, all the Stories I share bear half-truth and truth, but rest assured, the sword of the first settlers is real." She said, her tone amused at the sight of her first son exhaling a sigh of relief, she chuckled lightly, "Still, you would do well to borrow a page from your brother's book, Less sword, more mind."
"The healers say I am very well-balanced, Mother," Arthur replied with a grin, making Artizea roll her eyes. "Do not worry, baby brother, I will best the sword for both of us."
"Goody—," Eugene droned, making Artizea and Elaine snort into their drinks, trying and failing to stifle their laughter.
"Or even better, why not ask our dearest big sister?" Arthur looked up to Artizea. "I am sure she has plenty of experience to share." His voice was low enough to feign innocence but loud enough for everyone to hear.
Artizea cleared her throat, trying not to choke on either her water or guilt, then stilled. "If you have something to say, Dear Brother," she said coolly, "Then by all means, say it."
Arthur chuckled, sitting back in his chair as if perfectly at ease. "You'd love that, wouldn't you, to have someone to blameinstead of yourself when things go awry. Well, that is too bad." He took a long sip of his drink, then added with a tilt of his head, "For Arthur Pendragon knows Nothing…"
From beside her, Eugene mumbled, "Did I miss something?"
"No." They both said smoothly, not even looking up.
Arthuria's fork clinked louder than it should have been the moment she set it down. The room was so tense, even Elaine stopped chewing with her mouth full of bread. "Artizea and Arthur Pendragon. Whatever this is, resolve it in your owntime, not the family's."
Arthur sipped his wine. "Yes, mother."
Artizea said, "Apologies, mother."
Arthuria sighed in defeat, shaking her head. She caught sight of her husband's goblet, which she was unsure of the contents of, and why he needed it to function. It was just wine, right? "What is in this that is so special anyway?" The moment the wine touched her lips, her brows rose in surprised appreciation. "Gods'…"
The familiar footsteps of the king echoed through the hall. All four siblings straightened immediately. Artizea oversmoothed out her tunic as if to compose himself."Good morrow, Father," they said in unison.
Gilgamesh's eyes scanned the table upon approaching his seat at the head, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, realizing the scene before him, "Good morrow, my treasures." he responded with pride, then shifting to hover over his wife's chair "My dearest love," he hummed, brushing his lips against hers and stealing a taste of the wine lingering there. "That is a three-hundred-year-old vintage wine."
Arthuria nearly choked, carefully set the goblet down, and cleared her throat with as much dignity as she could muster. "Well then…" she stuttered.
Arthur made a face and pretended to gag behind his hand.
Gilgamesh chuckled, then straightened. Just then, a servant entered, "Your Grace…" whispered something in the king's ear. He nodded, then turned his gaze toward his eldest. "Artizea, meet me in the throne room after breakfast," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Yes, Father," Artizea replied, though her expression remained unreadable.
The siblings watched their sister closely, wondering what their father wish to discuss, especially Arthur, but if it was what he feared, then there was nothing they could do now.
The burden of being the heir was something neither of them envied, even if she bore it with all the nobility in the world.
GILGAMESH
The grand chamber of the previous High Council echoed with discontented murmurs, a sea of advisors and nobility glaring up at the gilded throne where the king sat, watching their outrage unfold.
"You cannot be serious, my king!" one advisor exclaimed, his voice quivering with incredulity. "The line of Babyloniyah has stood unbroken since the time of the first settling gods, your name as a mark of power and legacy. To abandon it once, then now—"
"Enough," he said, his tone calm yet carrying a weight that made the air itself feel heavy. "You speak of legacy as if it is confined to a name alone."
Another advisor stood, his expression twisted with frustration. "It is not about the name, my king, but about tradition. By taking her name—" he corrected himself from the glare, "The Lady Arthuria 's name… Pendragon, you defy centuries of heritage! What will the people think?"
The king leaned forward on his throne, resting his chin on his knuckles. "The people will think what I tell them to think," he said simply, leaving no room for argument.
The council exchanged uneasy glances. "But why?" Another dared to ask, "Why would you make such a concession?"
The king's lips curled into a mischievous smirk, "Does it bother you so greatly that I, your King, might choose a different name? Or does it wound your pride to see a woman stand as an equal beside me?" he mused.
The council fell silent, unable to refute his words.
"Am I the only one in this Room? SPEAK!"
One bolder member stepped forward, his voice steadier than the others, "My king… The Lady Arthuria is a noble warrior and a ruler in her own right, yes. But to take her name implies—"
"It implies," he interrupted, "that I honor her sacrifices and her sovereignty. To leave her crown behind and take the title of Queen is no small thing."
The advisors looked at one another, "But there is no kingdom…"
"And whose fault is that?" he said, rising from his throne, "You forget yourselves, as you will forget whatever more lectures you have, because I tell you now, they are futile. The Pendragon name will stand beside mine, not as a replacement, but as a testament to the power wielded together, and that is final." He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "You do not need to understand my reasons, only to obey them."
The council bowed their heads reluctantly, their objections quelled, though their unease lingered.
"And another thing… I relieve you of your duties, as of next moon. I suggest you find replacements soon, or I shall have to find them for you… and dispose of the previous."
When the chamber cleared, Arthuria stepped from behind the throne. "You did not need to cause such a stir, you know," she said, crossing her arms.
Gilgamesh smirked, stepping closer to her. "Oh, but I did. It is quite amusing." He reached out.
She sighed, though her smile betrayed her, stepping into him, "And all for what?"
"For our Future," he murmured, pulling her closer. "Freedom, Love, and Peace… Remember?
In the present, the throne room was cold.
Artizea stood at the center of the grand chamber, her head held high despite the storm she could feel brewing.
Her Father sat on the throne, his eyes piercing and unrelenting. Her mother stood beside him, her expression unreadable.
He leaned forward, his piercing gaze locked on his eldest daughter. Burning with barely contained fury, finally, he spoke, his voice low but filled with venom. "How long?"
Artizea raised an eyebrow, pretending she did not understand. "I am not sure I know what you mean…" she asked coolly.
"My patience for this charade has long since ceased," his gaze hardened," So I ask again, How long have you been fornicating with your royal knightguard?" his tone now deceptively calm, though the edge of anger lurked beneath. "Or do you still deny it?"
She hesitated. Denying it would be pointless. Her father was not one to confront her without proof, and the fact that he was bringing this up at all meant he already knew the truth.
"We… have been friends since my coronation," she said finally,
"And."
Artizea hesitated. Her voice was steady. "I do not deny it, no."
The king rose from his throne, towering over his daughter with a look of utter disappointment."Do you have any idea what this could bring upon this family? Upon your title?"
"I am more than my title," she murmured dolefully.
"What was that?" he asked as if bewildered.
Silence stretched.
"Speak Up."
"I am more than my title!" she said, but it came out louder than she anticipated. She refused to meet his gaze. When he did not speak, she continued cautiously, "Love, should not care about titles or power; it should see me, he sees me." She countered, her tone sharp. "You taught us that love knew no rules, or have you forgotten how you once defied expectations for Mother?"
His jaw tightened, a flicker of something, guilt perhaps, crossing his face before he masked it with stern resolve. "That was different. Your mother was a match worthy of a thousand kings. That boy is—"
"A man—a person—" She interrupted, "A person who sees me for who I am, not just what I represent. Why is that so difficult for you to accept?"
Arthuria, sensing the direction this was going, stepped forward then, her calm voice cutting through the tension. "Gil, perhaps we should get both sides of things, maybe then we can move forward in a better light—"
"No." He held up a hand to silence her for the first time. "I am sorry, Arthruia, but we have tried your way and look what it has gotten us, a rogue heir who has completely lost all sense of reason."
Artizea clenched her fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms. "I am not allowed to choose anything for myself, not even who I—"
"Cease volume—!" His voice rose in rising irritation, "You are the heir to this throne! My daughter cannot afford such foolishness with a mere commoner!" He roared, "You will remember your place."
Her breath hitched, but she refused to let him see the tears threatening to spill. "And what is my place, Father? To be the perfect warrior? To live a life dictated by duty and nothing else?" She took a step forward. with defiance. "Do you evensee them? The ones beyond our castle walls, the same commoners you speak of that fill the city with color, they are brilliant, creative minds out there, even the ones that cannot afford a night of rest nor food for strength, still they stay because of their Devotion and loyalty to us!"
"Of course I see them," he echoed softly. "I love them all as any ruler should."
"And I love him, Father!" she said firmly, "He is a loyal knight, and a good man, and I wish to marry him with your consent."
For a moment, there was silence. It began as a low chuckle, but soon erupted into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, throwing his head back wheezingly. Servants stole uneasy glances at one another, uncertain how to react to their king's sudden outburst. Arthuria pressed her lips together, choosing to remain neutral. Artizea's jaw tightened, her hands clenched into fists. Daring not to ask what was so funny.
Gilgamesh wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He gestured to his wife, "My love, are you hearing the nonsense your daughter spouts?" He gestured toward the center of the chamber, his laugh threatened to start anew. "Marriage….to a knight…" he wheezed. "God's spear me…"
"I think we have heard enough—" Arthuria tried.
"He would have to be the king of the gods himself! To be worthy of you," he thundered abruptly, "A mere royal knightguard's bravery is not enough!" The weight of his words slammed into Artizea like a physical blow. But he was not finished. His booming voice continued, sharp with disbelief and fury. "—You—" he pointed. "Are the daughters of kings!" He stated.
"But…" Artizea stutters.
"Not. Another. Word…Or so help me gods, I swear on your mother's gardens, I will send her knightguard," he interrupted. "Your actions have jeopardized your position, your honor, everything we have built, for you!"
"I neverasked you to do that! Does anyone ever ask me what my wish is?!" Her chest heaved with emotion. "But what am I saying? You do not understand, you could never presume to understand! "
"I understand plenty," he said coldly while his expression hardened further, turning to the queen's royal knightguard. "Bring me his head by sunset."
Artizea's blood ran cold. "No!" she cried, stepping between the knightguard and anchoring the exit door. "If you kill him, I will never forgive you," she vowed to her father.
Artruia's voice boomed, "Stand down."
The knightguard did as commanded.
The king stepped closer to his daughter, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You have not an inkling of an idea of the sacrifices that were made for you and your siblings. You are not some common girl who can follow her whims. You are my daughter and legacy. Your place is to uphold this dynasty, to secure the future of this kingdom and its people. along with the sacrifices it comes with."
"Perhaps I no longer wish to be your legacy," her voice trembled out.
But what he heard was even worse. Perhaps I do not want to be your daughter…
The silence that followed was deafening.
Arthuria's gaze softened upon looking at their daughter. "Artizea," she said quietly, "This is not about denying you happiness. We wish for nothing but for all of you to be happy, but you must understand the weight of the crown outweighs your choices."
"But why can I not have both?" Artizea said softly.
Gilgamesh's expression hardened once more. "Because the world will not let you, and if you continue down this path, you will bring ruin to yourself and this kingdom." At first, there was silence. Then, the king's voice dropped with a final tone. "End it or Iwill."
Artizea felt the sting of his words; her mind spun, but determination still prevailed. Her Jaw clenched, her eyes filled with fury, then she turned. Servants parted quickly, bowing their heads while she bore toward the exit. Her father's gaze burned into her back.
"Artizea Albion Pendragon, don't you dare walk away from me!" His voice boomed through the throne hall.
But she did not stop or look back, and in that moment, just before the massive doors sealed shut behind her, Gilgamesh saw himself. A boy, eyes burning with resentment and inner rage toward His father, the previous king, He too turned his back to the towering man above the steps of the throne and was met with a voice sharp as steel. "Don't you dare walk away from me, boy!" But the boy kept on walking. One step, then another, and another. Until the throne doors slammed behind him, just when they closed behind her, only now he was in the shoes of the man he swore never to be. He slowly sank back onto his throne, his earlier laughter replaced by a grim silence.
Arthuria stood by him, torn between her duty as queen and her love as a mother; she knew she could not be both. "She is more like you than you realize," she said softly. Placing her hand on her husband's arm.
Her voice snapped him back to reality. He clenched his fist. "That is exactly what I am afraid of."