"Arthur. I'll have the Minister of Education come tomorrow to enroll Elizabeth."
Elaine, bright-eyed and cheerful, said, "You're going to love it there, Liz," she said matter-of-factly, "It makes and shapes a princess."
Gilgamesh nodded approvingly. "Correct."
Arthur sighed in relief—finally, something they agreed on. " Sounds good, Dad."
The dinner table had always been the center of Pendragon affairs—where victories were celebrated, arguments erupted, and history was made. Tonight was no different.
Gilgamesh, sitting at the head of the grand table, took another sip of his wine before setting the goblet down with a resounding finality. "What do you have there, Elizabeth?"
"A butterfly, " She sang, her little legs swinging from her chair.
In a way, she reminded him of Elaine when she was her age.
"Then you will love the gardens, they are all filled with them."
"Can we go see them now?" Elizabeth asked.
The king smiled, turned to Arthur, and said, "I will take the Princess Elizabeth after dinner."
Earning a nod from his son.
"Lizzie, Grandpa! All my friends call me that."
He smiled, clearly pleased. "And who are these friends?"
Arthur, who had been drinking from his goblet, immediately froze. His entire body stiffened as he looked across the table at his daughter, eyes wide with warning. Do not. Say anything. Please, for the love of all that is holy—
But Lizzie, being Lizzie, completely ignored him. She tilted her head innocently."There's an old guy who packs away the food, and his brother brings in the sails, which makes the ship go zoom!" she explained happily.
Arthur closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Rhyssand let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying himself.
Gilgamesh, however, stared at his granddaughter, expression unreadable. Then, slowly, his eyes narrowed.
"You're saying," he began carefully, "your friends… are men?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! They're nice! And they say they love me."
He froze over.
Arthur suddenly found the floor fascinating. "This floor is new," he said very quickly, pretending to admire it. "Certainly looks new. Did you design the renovations yourself, Father? You have such Great craftsmanship, truly."
Gil turned his head with a slow, deadly precision.
Arthur immediately shut up.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then—
"Your friends…are men," Gilgamesh repeated to Elizabeth.
Lizzie smiled, completely unaware of the growing storm in the room. "Uh-huh!"
Gilgamesh's eye twitched.
Arthur, desperate, tried to lighten the mood. "Well," he laughed awkwardly, "how can you not love her, am I right ?"
No one laughed.
The king exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Arthur," he said, his voice dangerously low, "Eliz—Lizzie is a Princess, you would do well to remember that ."
Arthur opened his mouth—but before he could dig himself a deeper grave, his father simply turned to Cesealia, someone with a bit more wisdom.
"So. I assume there will be no more ship hopping now that you're home," he said firmly. "The matter of which wing you'll be staying in would need to be finalized —"
"There's no need, Your Majesty," Cesealia cut in swiftly. "Lizzie will be staying with my grandmother and me."
Silence. Pure and utter silence.
Even the children, who had gone back to playing, felt the shift in the air and went still.
Arthuria, sensing what was about to happen, immediately intervened. "Gil," she said gently, placing a hand on his arm. "Breathe. Just like we practiced."
He followed his wife's lead as he inhaled deeply. Then, exhaled slowly. For a moment, everyone dared to believe he was calm. And then—
"Absolutely not."
Cesealia raised a brow. "Pardon?"
His gaze hardened. "Elizabeth is a Pendragon. A royal princess. She stays in the palace with the Pendragons, her family. That is tradition. That is the law."
"As her mother…" Cesealia stated, holding the king's gaze, "She should be with me. Should she not?"
"By the grace of the gods, you are married to my very short, sighted son," the king leaned forward, "—a man who acts without a single thought for consequences. You also bear the name of kings," he reminded her. "Your place is here as well."
Cesealia took a steady breath."Well, it seems you are incorrect your magesity, as I am not married to Arthur, and he is not short-sighted," she said simply.
Gilgamesh's expression froze. His eyes snapped back to his eldest son. "Arthur Pendragon. What is the meaning of this?"
Arthur was still frozen. Ba dum ba dum. Across the table, Rhyssand caught his eye. A small nod of encouragement. He took a deep breath."Father…" he started carefully, "We are not married…"
"SO I GATHER—"
Arthuria closed her eyes. "Gil…"
But he was done listening. The king's crimson gaze flickered between his son, Cesealia, and the product happily munching on her fruit, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing. His voice was calm. Too calm. "So let me get this straight," he said, "For seven years, my granddaughter has been raised on a ship—outside of wedlock?"
Arthur sighed. "If you would just let me explain—"
He raised a single hand. "Answer the question."
He clenched his jaw. "You are correct," As always.
He looked back at his son. Then at Cesealia. Then, slowly, back at Arthur. "Then you also mean to tell me," his voice was eerily even, "For seven years… you never once thought to marry her mother—out of sheer decency alone?"
Arthur stood his ground. "We never saw the need to rush it."
Arthuria sighed and placed a calming hand on his arm."Gil—" she said gently. "Breathe."
Gilgamesh inhaled slowly. Exhaled through his nose."To rush it?" his eye twitching in restraint. "I raised you better than that—"
Arthur grimaced. "Did you? Raise me? Because I do not recall such, so let us not pretend whose parenting skills need reevaluating, at least I was there for my kid—at least I was a hands-on father—at least she got to be a kid!"
Wrong move.
The king stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over.
Arthur immediately regretted his words. But it was too late.
The king's hand slammed against the table, his voice thunderous.
"And what, exactly, are you trying to say, Arthur? Tell me—Where exactly did I go wrong with you, because I, too, would love to know the answer!"
It was in that moment that Arthur stood as well. It was blue versus Red. This fight was about to happen, and it was long overdue. "Not once," he began, voice tight, "For 7 years, did you reply to any of my letters."
He continued, "The struggles I faced learning how to be a father—when my father wouldn't so much as write back, say I miss you, or even I LOVE YOU."
The room was silent.
The king's gaze sharpened.
Arthur's hands tightened around the table.
"If you weren't so caught up with the color of my child's hair and the image of your precious legacy, maybe—just maybe—you'd realize why it was so easy for your son to leave in the first place." His voice was low now. Dangerous. "And why did it take me so long to come back—"
At first, there was silence once more, while Gigamesh said nothing to his son. Their eyes spoke of an unspoken battle. Then, A small sound broke the silence. Elizabeth. She was silently crying into Arthur's tunic, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric.
Arthur's expression softened instantly. Guilt crept into his voice. "…I'm sorry for shouting." He pressed a gentle kiss to his daughter's forehead before turning away. He didn't spare another glance at his father.
Cesealia followed him.
Elizabeth, peeking over Arthur's shoulder, gave a watery goodbye. "…But the butterflies.."
The grand doors of the dining hall slammed shut.
Silence hung thick in the air. No one moved. No one spoke. Until—
Gilgamesh exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temple like a man resisting the urge to summon a divine catastrophe.
Arthuria, arms crossed, shook her head.
Elaine dragged a hand down her face. "What the hell just happened?"
Eugene, still in shock, muttered, "Arthur just went to toe toe-to-toe with father and won." He looked at the door where his brother was last seen. "He truly is an anomaly …"
Rhyssand watched as his father-in-law silently fumed. He leaned back in his chair and took a slow sip of his wine. "I mean. Technically—"
"Rhys." Artizea hissed.
"Sorry, Love "
She turned to her mother. "You knew, didn't you?"
Arthuria didn't even bother denying it. "Of course, I knew."
The table exploded.
"WHAT?!"
Arthuria calmly sipped her tea. "What? I'm his mother. Did you think he wouldn't write me about his life ?"
Elaine pointed at her, completely outraged. "And you didn't think to warn us?!"
"I warned Gil," she replied, far too casually.
All eyes turned to the King. ncEugene leaned forward. "And what exactly did you say?"
Arthuria set her cup down.
"'Whatever happens, just remember: deep breaths.'"
Elaine buried her face in her hands.
The man in question, still seething, looked at his wife like she was the reason for his premature graying.
Then looked around the table at his children—all of them waiting for him to explode again.
Instead, he closed his eyes and exhaled. Then slowly walked away.
Arthuria raised a brow. "Where are you going?"
But he was long gone.
Rhyssand, watching him leave, turned to his wife. They took not he role of the peace makers since Arthur's departure.
"How do we do this?"
Artizea, still watching the doors, sighed."
Arthur had one foot out the gates when he heard her voice.
"Arthur, wait!"
He sighed.
Artizea. Of course, she'd come after him.
He turned to her, expression weary, and gently handed Elizabeth to Cesealia.
"I'll be right there," he promised before turning back to his sister.
The gates loomed behind them, the palace bathed in golden light—but for the first time since he had returned, it felt so far away.
Artizea studied him carefully. "Arthur… I know Father is difficult. He always has been. But you know he cares. He just… is Father."
His jaw clenched. "That's not an excuse, Tiz."
"I know," she admitted, stepping closer. "But when you left, you weren't the only one struggling."
His brows furrowed.
She placed a hand on his arm. "Do you think it was just me? Just Mother? Father felt it too. I've never seen him so—so lost. He missed you, Arthur. Everyone did."
Arthur glanced away. "Then he has a funny way of showing it."
She sighed, frustrated, but softened. "Arthur, you're the anchor of this family. You always have been. Without you—" She motioned toward the palace, where chaos still hung in the air "—this is what happens."
He scoffed. "I'm no one's anchor."
She arched a brow. "Really? Who made sure I don't massacre an entire village every time I get angry, who taught Elaine how to ride, and who taught Eugene a sense of humor? "
He chuckled.
"Rhys was a total asshole. Now you two are practically inseparable."
Arthur's throat tightened.
"You act like we don't need you, but we do. And deep down, you know you need us too."
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
"I have to put my daughter to bed."
Artizea knew she wasn't going to get through to him tonight.
Not yet.
So, instead, she gave him a small smile. "Tell her I said sweet dreams."
He hesitated… then nodded. Turning his back to the palace, His home
Behind her, footsteps approached.
She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
Rhyssand's voice was soft. "How did it go?"
She sighed, shaking her head. "I never thought I would say this, but He's too angry to hear me."
He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Give him time."
She leaned into him, watching the darkened streets beyond the gates.
"I just hope," she whispered, "he doesn't take too much of it."
Arthuria entered the study, finding Gil hunched over his desk, working, writing—doing anything but sleeping.
He hadn't come to bed.
She knew why.
"Gil."
No answer.
"Gilgamesh Pendragon, I am speaking to you."
He sighed, finally looking up.
His eyes were tired. Not from ruling.
From fatherhood.
"Where did I go wrong with him, Arthuria?" His voice was quiet, but heavy.
She didn't answer immediately. She let him speak, let him unburden himself.
"I feel as though every child has something or the other that I failed them in ." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. " And they have no problem voicing it."
"Must be from my side of the family." She said
He chuckled, then took a deep breath to continue, "Artizea thinks I don't listen to her. Elaine thinks I don't want her to be happy. Eugene believes I don't care about his progression, and now—"
He exhaled sharply, looking down at his papers. "Arthur thinks I don't love him."
Arthuria watched him carefully before speaking.
"Looks like parenting isn't as easy as it looks."
He tensed.
"I just— I don't know how to say it," he admitted. "So I show it and they don't see it."
She smiled softly, walking closer. She placed a hand on his, stilling his restless fingers.
"Your IQ far exceeds theirs, my love. I'm sorry to say, but maybe you have to… dumb it down."
He slowly lifted his gaze."Dumb it down? I didn't raise idiots."
She laughed at that, shaking her head.
"For example," she said, "start by stating the obvious. The reason you didn't reply to Arthur was because you knew if you did, it would have been an official letter from the king ordering his return, and then he really would have hated you."
He stilled. She knew him too well
She tilted her head. "You wanted him to be free. And with that came distance."
His throat tightened.
"There's a lot of distance between you now," she continued gently, "and a lot that he's been through. Maybe you should take the time to just ask. He may be dying for the chance to tell you."
He exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead once again. He was silent for a long time before finally saying, he whispered, "I don't know if he'll even listen."
Arthuria squeezed his hand.
"Then it's a good thing you're his father; he has to."