At that moment, Morgan felt as if everything around her had fallen completely silent.
In her mind, only the words Ian had just spoken remained.
"I..."
Just as Morgan was about to say something, she felt a sudden warmth.
She quickly realized what was happening.
It was Ian, hugging her right in front of Artoria.
If everything before had merely been a verbal clash without any real substance, then now, it had all become tangibly real.
But—
Morgan started to feel that something was very wrong with all of this.
She even began to wonder if connecting with the ley lines of Britain had caused her to have a cognitive hallucination, leading her to see what was happening now.
"Let go of me..."
"Let me go..."
"Artoria is still here..."
"I won't."
Ian's reply was swift and serious.
The more Morgan tried to push the dragon away from her, the more she found his embrace tightening.
In the end, the princess of Britain lost all resistance and collapsed into his arms.
The touch of their lips was seamless.
When she came to her senses, what Morgan saw was Artoria, standing behind Ian, watching the two of them.
Normally, she should have felt panicked right now.
After all, this was tantamount to cuckoldry.
This was...
...her husband.
But—
Why couldn't she see even a hint of resentment in Artoria's eyes?
Why on earth?
Morgan desperately wanted to ask, but she also found herself craving his kiss.
An unknown amount of time passed like this.
The dragon finally released Morgan.
The woman who had been at daggers drawn with Artoria just moments before had now become weak.
"I..."
Morgan looked at Artoria behind Ian, her expression complicated.
If she could have argued with her sister with righteous indignation before, now she had absolutely no reason to.
"How do you feel?"
"Do you trust me a little more than you did before?"
"Eh?"
Just as she had anticipated, Artoria did not condemn her sister, nor did she break down and scream insults.
She only spoke words of concern, as if everything that had just happened was well within her expectations and something she could readily accept.
Morgan, on the other hand, was at a loss for words.
After all, in her version of reality, Artoria was supposed to be her enemy.
"What are you really trying to do, Artoria..."
"I'm not trying to do anything. I just want to reconcile with you."
Artoria stepped down from the throne and came to stand before Ian and Morgan.
"After all this, are my words still so untrustworthy to you?"
"But I don't think you would do this."
Morgan still looked incredulous.
"I... I kissed him, right in front of you. Don't you feel any revulsion at all?"
"And what about you?"
Artoria smiled faintly.
"Do you... feel any revulsion for it?"
"..."
Morgan turned her face away.
"How could I be repulsed? This is the best chance for revenge. I... couldn't ask for more."
"Then are you happy now?"
Artoria pressed on.
"..."
"No."
Morgan looked at Ian, who was still holding her, and her tone softened considerably.
"I... feel nothing at all."
"It's as if—"
"You don't actually hate Artoria at all, do you?"
Ian, who had been listening for a long time, at this moment spoke words that Morgan had never expected.
"I... don't actually hate Artoria?"
Morgan immediately retorted, of course.
"What are you talking about!"
"How could I not hate Artoria!"
"I am the person in this world who hates her the most, who would love to see her die in front of me."
"No one... understands how to hate her better than I do!"
"You remember that, Ian!"
After saying all that in one breath, Morgan felt herself growing agitated, her breathing becoming ragged.
But Ian seemed not to have heard her at all.
He simply moved his head a little closer to Morgan and sniffed gently.
"Mmm—"
"Your scent has changed a bit."
"Morgan, everything you just said was a lie, wasn't it?"
"You're the one lying!"
Morgan retorted, acting like a petulant child for once.
"There are no truer words! I hate Artoria, the kind of hate that wishes she were dead!"
At this, Morgan glanced at Artoria, only to find that there was not much of a ripple in the other's gaze.
And Ian, hearing this, asked a question that Morgan had never anticipated.
"Then... why haven't you killed her?"
"You said—"
"You hate her very much."
"But up until now, you've never truly made a move against her, have you?"
"You've just... been constantly trying to get everyone's attention."
"You don't hate Artoria. The one you hate... is the version of yourself that no one ever noticed, right?"
Drip.
Morgan stared blankly at Ian.
A crystalline tear slid down her carefully made-up face, leaving a wet trail before falling to the floor.
The dragon's words were direct, but they were also accurate.
That's right.
What did Artoria ever do wrong?
She had only ever followed her father's arrangements, doing everything step by step as she was told.
Pull the sword, become king, and then shoulder the responsibilities she was meant to.
And she...
...was actually the same as her.
It was just that Artoria had walked towards a brighter life, while she, like a withered flower, had faded away in some forgotten corner.
Did she resent it?
Of course she resented it.
But was it really Artoria she resented?
No, it wasn't.
She knew full well that Artoria was just a necessary pawn in the grand arrangements disguised as "fate."
Without Artoria, someone else would have taken her place.
She just happened to be standing in that exact spot.
But—
"Then what meaning did my life have up until now..."
Morgan whispered softly.
"If I don't hate Artoria, what else can I do..."
"Before, perhaps there was nothing you could do."
"But now there is."
Artoria said this, then came to stand behind Morgan.
She copied Ian's actions and embraced her sister.
"You can do it for Britain."
"Or you can do it for Ian."
"From now on, forgive yourself, sister."
"You... deserve a better life."
"..."
Held by both Artoria and Ian, Morgan wanted to say something more.
But when the words reached her lips, all she could utter were words of peace.
"Is that so?"
"But Ian doesn't belong to me, does he?"
"But you can belong to Ian."
Artoria felt the warmth of her sister's back, then looked up at him.
"Ian—"
"Tonight, I was thinking the three of us could squeeze in together. Would that be okay?"