The council chamber slowly emptied after Queen Guinevere's declaration. The weight of Mercury's war announcement still lingered in the air, leaving most of the officials pale and silent. Morderia stood beside her mother, her eyes sharp and her voice firm as she gave cold, clipped instructions to the Moon Kingdom officers. Gone was the warmth from before—this was the ice-edged Princess that commanded respect without effort.
Nura kept his distance, watching the shift in her demeanor. She was all business here, giving orders in a tone that left no room for argument.
When the last officer finally bowed and exited, Queen Guinevere exhaled and stepped down from the dais. Morderia's shoulders eased slightly, and the frost in her expression melted as her gaze landed on Nura.
"Well…" she said, strolling over with a small smirk, "look who survived without getting blown to pieces."
Nura straightened instinctively. "Your Highness," he greeted with a respectful bow. "An honor, Princess."
Her smirk deepened. "Oh? So formal all of a sudden? That's new." She tilted her head, her tone turning playful. "I told you before in Moon City, didn't I? I'm an important figurehead."
"That you did," Nura replied evenly.
Queen Guinevere, watching from nearby, gave a soft chuckle. "He listens well, Morderia."
"Mother, I'm just making sure he remembers," she said with mock seriousness before leaning closer to Nura. "You don't have to be so stiff with me. Unless you like making me feel taller."
Nura smirked faintly. "You're already taller in rank."
She laughed quietly, clearly enjoying herself. "Mm… I'll take that as a compliment. Anyway, I meant what I said before. I want you to join me."
Nura raised a brow. "Join you? Is this some sort of proposal to make me a prince?"
Her grin widened. "Prince? No… maybe a slave."
He groaned under his breath. "Please… give me a break."
She laughed again, brighter this time, a sound that even made Queen Guinevere's lips curl in amusement. "Think about it, Nura. The offer's still open."
With that, Morderia turned and walked toward her mother, her playful smirk fading the instant she faced the approaching royal attendants. Her posture straightened, her eyes cooled, and her voice became all formality again—cold, commanding, untouchable.
Nura watched her go, realizing just how stark the difference was. Cheerful and teasing with me and the Queen… but to everyone else? A completely different person.
---
The banners of Camelot billowed in the warm breeze over Earth's newly christened capital. Gleaming towers bore the sigil of the Five Round Table Knights, and the streets below were filled with cheering citizens and marching soldiers. The great ceremony had just concluded—Arthur King's official declaration that Earth now belonged to Camelot.
Within the towering spire of the Royal Citadel, Arthur sat upon his high throne, still wearing the ceremonial mantle from the coronation parade. Merlin stood beside him, robes flowing, staff planted firmly on the polished marble floor. The echoes of celebration still drifted faintly through the chamber's high windows.
A knight stepped forward, kneeling.
"My lord… news from our observers. The Mercury Kingdom has declared war upon the Moon. They accuse Queen Guinevere and her leadership of being witches, and call this war a holy judgment."
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, the noise of the festivities fading into the background.
"…Holy judgment… witches… It seems Mercury's flames burn higher than even I expected."
Merlin spoke, his voice measured. "Their crusade has begun. And they invoke the old prophecies. The Moon will bleed, and Guinevere's court will be tested."
Arthur rose slowly from his throne, walking toward the great holographic map of the Solar Territories. His gauntleted hand hovered over the Moon's orbit, where a bright red marker now pulsed.
"For years, the Moon was neither ally nor enemy. An independent crown with its own pride… and its own flaws. But now…" He turned, his gaze sharpening. "…Now they are vulnerable."
Merlin's staff clicked softly against the marble. "You would consider aiding her?"
Arthur smirked faintly. "Aid? No. I would bind. A war with Mercury will break her defenses. If Camelot rides to her rescue, she will owe me far more than gratitude."
"And if she refuses?" Merlin asked.
Arthur's tone was calm, yet edged with steel. "Then we will let Mercury have their holy war… and collect the pieces when it's over. Either way, the Moon's fate will be decided by my hand."
Merlin inclined his head. "You've already begun moving the board, then."
Arthur's smirk widened. "The ceremony may have crowned me king of Earth… but the real game begins with the Moon."
---
2 Days Later, Outside, the Moon Kingdom's main capital was already shifting gears—soldiers rushing along corridors, engineers hauling crates of parts, technicians barking orders over comms. The war with Mercury had just been declared, and the entire kingdom moved like a machine awakened from slumber.
Nura walked beside Captain Ralvern toward the hangar, the tension in the air pressing on his shoulders.
"I've been through enough battles to know," Ralvern muttered, "this kind of mobilization means we'll be deployed sooner rather than later."
Nura only nodded. His mind wandered—Camelot… Holy War… witches… now Mercury. What the hell have I stepped into?
A familiar voice called from behind.
"Nura! Wait up!"
He turned to see Morderia jogging toward him, silver hair catching the light from the crystal lamps. The frost she'd worn in the meeting was gone—her eyes were brighter, her smile quick and mischievous.
"You didn't disappear after the meeting," she teased, stopping in front of him. "I was beginning to think you'd slip away before I could corner you again."
"Corner me?" Nura asked dryly.
"Mm-hm. You still haven't given me an answer," she said, crossing her arms in mock impatience. "Join me, Nura. My squad could use someone who can survive a scythe-wielding invisible lunatic."
He smirked faintly. "And if I refuse?"
She grinned wider. "Then I'll keep asking until you give in."
Ralvern cleared his throat. "Princess, we're in the middle of—"
"Relax, Captain," she said lightly, waving him off without taking her eyes off Nura. "I can be serious later. Right now, I want to hear him say yes."
Nura sighed. "If I say yes now, will you stop calling me slave?"
"Maybe," she said, leaning closer. "Or maybe not."
He rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."
Morderia only laughed—a genuine, warm sound that contrasted sharply with the cold command she'd shown earlier. But as a pair of officers approached from the far end of the hall, she straightened instantly, her smile fading, posture stiffening.
"Princess, your presence is required in the war room," one of them said.
Morderia nodded curtly, her voice cool again. "I'll be there immediately." Then, with the faintest glance back at Nura, the teasing spark returned for half a second. "Think about it."
And just like that, she walked away, every step regal and untouchable.
Nura exhaled slowly. "She's… something else."
Ralvern smirked. "That's the Princess for you. With her, you're either inside her circle… or far outside it."
"So…" Nura finally spoke, breaking the hum of distant activity. "Your princess. Morderia."
Ralvern didn't look up from the datapad he was reviewing. "What about her?"
Nura exhaled through his nose, leaning back. "She's… different. When she's around me or Queen Guinevere, she's cheerful, teases me like I'm her personal entertainment. But when she's with anyone else? Cold. Controlled. Like she's someone else entirely."
Ralvern's mouth curved in a faint, knowing smile. "That's Morderia for you. Most people only ever see the princess—poised, calculating, untouchable. She decides who sees the real her. You? You're one of the few."
"Feels more like she enjoys watching me squirm," Nura muttered.
"That too," Ralvern admitted with a quiet chuckle. "But if she lets you see that side, it means she trusts you. That's not something she gives easily."
Nura's brow furrowed. "Trust, huh… guess I'm not sure if I should be flattered or worried."
Before Ralvern could answer, the wall display flickered red, accompanied by a deep, blaring alarm.
> ALERT — MULTIPLE UNKNOWN SHIPS DETECTED. ORIGIN: MERCURY KINGDOM. TRAJECTORY: DIRECT TO MOON ORBIT.
Ralvern was instantly on his feet, his expression hardening. "How many?" he snapped toward the nearest comm station.
The reply came fast, tense. "Seven capital-class signatures with heavy escorts. No deviation from intercept vector."
Nura pushed up from his seat, the uneasy coffee conversation replaced by cold adrenaline. "So they're not here to talk."
Ralvern's voice was sharp, clipped. "No. And we're not going to wait for them to knock."
Outside, the corridors became even more frantic—boots pounding faster, crates slamming onto lifts, the sound of launch bays powering up. The Moon Kingdom was shifting from readiness into full combat deployment.
And Nura could feel it—whatever was coming, it was going to hit hard.