As her eyes fluttered open, she felt the gentle touch of morning sunlight seeping through the cracks in the window and door.
The room remained cloaked in darkness, save for the warm breath that tickled her chest. Peeling back the covers, she prepared to rise from bed, only to discover the collar of her garments clasped tightly by a tiny hand.
With utmost care, she gingerly disentangled the small hand, afraid of disrupting its owner's sleep.
Within the confines of the bed lay a precious life—a girl adorned with golden locks, fair complexion, and adorable cheeks that still retained traces of baby fat. A sweet expression graced her sleeping face.
Lost in a blissful dream, a droplet of drool escaped the corner of her mouth, dampening the sheets.
Artoria draped the blanket over the sleeping child and stepped out of the room.
Stepping into the embrace of the morning light, she fixed her gaze upon the blaze of red-hued clouds decorating the horizon.
Reaching the estate's apple tree, she plucked a ripe fruit and proceeded to extract fresh milk from the cows grazing near the fence.
The estate, modest in size, lacked an abundance of servants. It consisted solely of Artoria and the child, living a simple and modest lifestyle.
With the intention of providing solace to war orphans, she had established an orphanage in Tintagel. Devotedly, she directed the majority of her kingdom's rewards towards the welfare of these children, retaining little for her personal needs.
Despite her noble lineage, she embraced a humble and frugal lifestyle.
Entering the room with the apples and milk in hand, she donned an apron and proceeded to peel the apples meticulously, one by one, using a small knife.
Adorning the wall behind her, a resplendent sight met the eye — the gleaming presence of a beautiful sword.
It was none other than the fabled Legendary Sword of Promised Victory, Excalibur.
The child was already awake, dressed in white pajamas. Her petite figure clung to the woman's apron, bouncing up and down while gazing at the towering stove.
"Mommy, mommy! What's on the menu for breakfast today?"
"Hmm, we have applesauce, bread, and milk," she responded, a smile gracing her face.
"Ah...? It's the same again?" The girl pouted, looking displeased, "I don't want to eat that."
"Well, what would you like to have, Mordred?" She set aside the knife and apple, scooped the girl up, and fixed her gentle blue eyes on her.
"Hmm..." Mordred pondered for a moment, her gaze eventually landing on the apron stretched across her mother's chest. She spoke up, saying, "I want to have mommy's milk!"
"You're already too big for that, don't be silly." she shook her head firmly, denying her request.
"Hmm... fine. Then I want to ride on mommy's shoulders!" The girl beamed as she made her suggestion.
"That's fine, but you have to stay still."
"Okay!"
She hoisted the girl onto her shoulders, then picked up the knife again and continued preparing breakfast.
Sitting atop her mother's shoulders, the girl hummed a melody and squirmed playfully. Just as she was on the verge of slipping off, she instinctively grabbed onto her mother's long golden locks.
"Ouch..." A pained expression crossed Artoria's face, "Mordred, please stop misbehaving. It hurts quite a bit!"
"Oh..." the girl immediately ceased her mischief.
After finishing the breakfast preparations, she arranged the meal on the table and settled the girl onto a chair.
The girl wasted no time and eagerly consumed her food, while her mother sat nearby, observing her with tender blue eyes and a subtle smile playing on her lips.
"Mommy, mommy. Aren't you going to eat?" the girl asked.
"You go ahead and eat first," she replied.
"Okay!" the girl beamed and proceeded to satisfy her hunger.
In reality, Artoria was feeling quite famished as well. However, she hesitated to eat first, uncertain if there would be enough food left for the child.
Yet, it was truly befitting of a child who inherited her lineage. Despite being merely three years old, her appetite was already quite impressive.
Ultimately, she could only manage to eat an apple, a meager attempt to alleviate her hunger.
While she tidied up the beddings and noticed the damp spot on the bed, a headache started to creep in.
"You've wet the bed again, Mordred," she sighed with a mixture of frustration and weariness.
"Well... there's nothing I can do about it. I'm just a child, and I can't control it! I dreamt of water in my dream, and it just happened. Besides, not everyone can create such a big map, you know! You should be praising me, mommy!" The girl pouted, puffing out her cheeks. She carried a sense of pride that she didn't consider embarrassing but rather something to take pride in. She must have picked up that mindset from someone.
Considering the people this girl had come into contact with, there shouldn't have been anyone who influenced her in such a way.
Despite her headache, she persisted in washing the bedding and hung it out to dry within the estate. She made her way towards the administrative hall of Tintagel, prepared to fulfill her duties as the lord.
The pedestrians in Tintagel warmly greeted her, their lips curved into smiles as they diligently carried out their tasks.
There was no room for doubt, and a pervasive sense of optimism pervaded the air. Everyone bore smiles on their faces, envisioning a promising future.
And why shouldn't they? The Eternal King had already shouldered the burdens of Britain, carrying them away with him. In his wake, he left behind hope and beauty.
Following the departure of the king, the kingdom continued to operate with remarkable efficiency and stability.
In matters of foreign affairs, the neighboring countries dared not entertain any ambitions against Camelot. They opted to submit and offer tributes instead.
Even the formidable conqueror Attila, who had ravaged and trampled across the European continent, though occasionally launching minor incursions, refrained from provoking Camelot outright. Once repelled, she chose to avoid conflict with the kingdom and strictly adhered to the boundaries established by the Eternal King.
As the lord of Tintagel, she dealt with the administrative affairs of the town, while the energetic child ran around freely.
She wasn't worried that the child would be bullied by anyone.
Although still very young, the dragon's factor had already endowed the child with strength far beyond ordinary adult.
And with the child's temperament, it was already good enough if she didn't bully others.
Artoria truly couldn't discern whose character this child had inherited.
As usual, she escorted the child to apologize to the parents of the boy who had been reduced to tears due to bullying.
"He provoked me first, so why am I the one who has to apologize?" Mordred grumbled, displaying her discontent.
"But you made him cry."
"That's because he laughed at me for not having a father!" The girl yelled in frustration.
A sense of guilt settled within Artoria, causing her to fall into silence.
She loved this child dearly and strived to compensate for what she lacked. However, this was one aspect she couldn't make up for.
Fortunately, despite occasional feelings of injustice, the child remained carefree and worry-free.
One moment she would pout, nursing her grievances, and the next she would be chasing after butterflies.
Observing the girl's lively running, a tinge of worry gnawed at her, fearing that the child might stumble and fall.
At night, after finishing dinner for the child, she washed the dishes and laid a fresh layer of bedding.
"This is the last set of bedding. The rest haven't dried yet. If you wet the bed again this time, we'll have no choice but to sleep on hard wooden planks tomorrow," she warned Morgan.
"Hehehe... Then I'll simply cuddle up in mommy's arms to sleep. Only mommy will be on the wooden planks," Mordred responded, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
Another headache washed over her. How did this child develop such an impudent attitude?
The girl lay in bed, restlessly tossing and turning, unable to find sleep. Glancing at her mother, she finally spoke up, her voice filled with longing, "Mommy, mommy, I can't fall asleep. Can you tell me a story?"
"Sure. Let me think of something for you." Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she began, "Once upon a time, in a meadow filled with delicate lilies, the young Eternal..."
"I don't want to hear that one," the girl interrupted, pouting. "It's always the same story. I want to hear something different."
She was at a loss. "I don't know many stories..."
"Tell me the story of you and father, then. You always mention he died on the battlefield. How did you two meet?" said the girl with a cheerful smile,
"Well... it all began in an estate..." As she recounted the story of her time in the estate, she intentionally omitted certain details, carefully concealing certain information.
"That's such a lovely story," the girl exclaimed, her smile brimming with joy. However, a faint sense of familiarity tinged her emotions. Why did this story feel somewhat familiar?
The girl didn't know, but gradually, she felt sleepy.
"Mommy, could you please blow out the candle? I want to sleep," the girl softly requested.
Artoria hesitated for a moment, her thoughts lingering. "Well... my dear..." she trailed off, uncertain.
The girl's brows furrowed with concern. "What's the matter, mommy?"
After a brief pause, Artoria finally spoke, her voice laced with vulnerability. "Could we perhaps leave the candle lit?"
Understanding dawned on the girl's face. "Oh, I see... Mommy, you're already so grown-up, and yet you still have a fear of the dark. Honestly, it's alright. I'll simply get under the blankets and fall asleep. Ah... mommy is so warm."
Gradually, the girl succumbed to sleep, her breathing growing steady and peaceful. Meanwhile, Artoria too settled into her own position, her mind drifting into the realm of dreams.
A peaceful life in the estate.
This was everything she had.
And this tranquil life would continue...
Forever.
As her eyes fluttered open, she felt the gentle touch of morning sunlight seeping through the cracks in the window and door.
The room remained cloaked in darkness, save for the warm breath that tickled her chest. Peeling back the covers, she prepared to rise from bed, only to discover the collar of her garments clasped tightly by a tiny hand.
With utmost care, she gingerly disentangled the small hand, afraid of disrupting its owner's sleep.
Within the confines of the bed lay a precious life—a girl adorned with golden locks, fair complexion, and adorable cheeks that still retained traces of baby fat. A sweet expression graced her sleeping face.
Lost in a blissful dream, a droplet of drool escaped the corner of her mouth, dampening the sheets.
Artoria draped the blanket over the sleeping child and stepped out of the room.
Stepping into the embrace of the morning light, she fixed her gaze upon the blaze of red-hued clouds decorating the horizon.
Reaching the estate's apple tree, she plucked a ripe fruit and proceeded to extract fresh milk from the cows grazing near the fence.
The estate, modest in size, lacked an abundance of servants. It consisted solely of Artoria and the child, living a simple and modest lifestyle.
With the intention of providing solace to war orphans, she had established an orphanage in Tintagel. Devotedly, she directed the majority of her kingdom's rewards towards the welfare of these children, retaining little for her personal needs.
Despite her noble lineage, she embraced a humble and frugal lifestyle.
Entering the room with the apples and milk in hand, she donned an apron and proceeded to peel the apples meticulously, one by one, using a small knife.
Adorning the wall behind her, a resplendent sight met the eye — the gleaming presence of a beautiful sword.
It was none other than the fabled Legendary Sword of Promised Victory, Excalibur.
The child was already awake, dressed in white pajamas. Her petite figure clung to the woman's apron, bouncing up and down while gazing at the towering stove.
"Mommy, mommy! What's on the menu for breakfast today?"
"Hmm, we have applesauce, bread, and milk," she responded, a smile gracing her face.
"Ah...? It's the same again?" The girl pouted, looking displeased, "I don't want to eat that."
"Well, what would you like to have, Mordred?" She set aside the knife and apple, scooped the girl up, and fixed her gentle blue eyes on her.
"Hmm..." Mordred pondered for a moment, her gaze eventually landing on the apron stretched across her mother's chest. She spoke up, saying, "I want to have mommy's milk!"
"You're already too big for that, don't be silly." she shook her head firmly, denying her request.
"Hmm... fine. Then I want to ride on mommy's shoulders!" The girl beamed as she made her suggestion.
"That's fine, but you have to stay still."
"Okay!"
She hoisted the girl onto her shoulders, then picked up the knife again and continued preparing breakfast.
Sitting atop her mother's shoulders, the girl hummed a melody and squirmed playfully. Just as she was on the verge of slipping off, she instinctively grabbed onto her mother's long golden locks.
"Ouch..." A pained expression crossed Artoria's face, "Mordred, please stop misbehaving. It hurts quite a bit!"
"Oh..." the girl immediately ceased her mischief.
After finishing the breakfast preparations, she arranged the meal on the table and settled the girl onto a chair.
The girl wasted no time and eagerly consumed her food, while her mother sat nearby, observing her with tender blue eyes and a subtle smile playing on her lips.
"Mommy, mommy. Aren't you going to eat?" the girl asked.
"You go ahead and eat first," she replied.
"Okay!" the girl beamed and proceeded to satisfy her hunger.
In reality, Artoria was feeling quite famished as well. However, she hesitated to eat first, uncertain if there would be enough food left for the child.
Yet, it was truly befitting of a child who inherited her lineage. Despite being merely three years old, her appetite was already quite impressive.
Ultimately, she could only manage to eat an apple, a meager attempt to alleviate her hunger.
While she tidied up the beddings and noticed the damp spot on the bed, a headache started to creep in.
"You've wet the bed again, Mordred," she sighed with a mixture of frustration and weariness.
"Well... there's nothing I can do about it. I'm just a child, and I can't control it! I dreamt of water in my dream, and it just happened. Besides, not everyone can create such a big map, you know! You should be praising me, mommy!" The girl pouted, puffing out her cheeks. She carried a sense of pride that she didn't consider embarrassing but rather something to take pride in. She must have picked up that mindset from someone.
Considering the people this girl had come into contact with, there shouldn't have been anyone who influenced her in such a way.
Despite her headache, she persisted in washing the bedding and hung it out to dry within the estate. She made her way towards the administrative hall of Tintagel, prepared to fulfill her duties as the lord.
The pedestrians in Tintagel warmly greeted her, their lips curved into smiles as they diligently carried out their tasks.
There was no room for doubt, and a pervasive sense of optimism pervaded the air. Everyone bore smiles on their faces, envisioning a promising future.
And why shouldn't they? The Eternal King had already shouldered the burdens of Britain, carrying them away with him. In his wake, he left behind hope and beauty.
Following the departure of the king, the kingdom continued to operate with remarkable efficiency and stability.
In matters of foreign affairs, the neighboring countries dared not entertain any ambitions against Camelot. They opted to submit and offer tributes instead.
Even the formidable conqueror Attila, who had ravaged and trampled across the European continent, though occasionally launching minor incursions, refrained from provoking Camelot outright. Once repelled, she chose to avoid conflict with the kingdom and strictly adhered to the boundaries established by the Eternal King.
As the lord of Tintagel, she dealt with the administrative affairs of the town, while the energetic child ran around freely.
She wasn't worried that the child would be bullied by anyone.
Although still very young, the dragon's factor had already endowed the child with strength far beyond ordinary adult.
And with the child's temperament, it was already good enough if she didn't bully others.
Artoria truly couldn't discern whose character this child had inherited.
As usual, she escorted the child to apologize to the parents of the boy who had been reduced to tears due to bullying.
"He provoked me first, so why am I the one who has to apologize?" Mordred grumbled, displaying her discontent.
"But you made him cry."
"That's because he laughed at me for not having a father!" The girl yelled in frustration.
A sense of guilt settled within Artoria, causing her to fall into silence.
She loved this child dearly and strived to compensate for what she lacked. However, this was one aspect she couldn't make up for.
Fortunately, despite occasional feelings of injustice, the child remained carefree and worry-free.
One moment she would pout, nursing her grievances, and the next she would be chasing after butterflies.
Observing the girl's lively running, a tinge of worry gnawed at her, fearing that the child might stumble and fall.
At night, after finishing dinner for the child, she washed the dishes and laid a fresh layer of bedding.
"This is the last set of bedding. The rest haven't dried yet. If you wet the bed again this time, we'll have no choice but to sleep on hard wooden planks tomorrow," she warned Morgan.
"Hehehe... Then I'll simply cuddle up in mommy's arms to sleep. Only mommy will be on the wooden planks," Mordred responded, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
Another headache washed over her. How did this child develop such an impudent attitude?
The girl lay in bed, restlessly tossing and turning, unable to find sleep. Glancing at her mother, she finally spoke up, her voice filled with longing, "Mommy, mommy, I can't fall asleep. Can you tell me a story?"
"Sure. Let me think of something for you." Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she began, "Once upon a time, in a meadow filled with delicate lilies, the young Eternal..."
"I don't want to hear that one," the girl interrupted, pouting. "It's always the same story. I want to hear something different."
She was at a loss. "I don't know many stories..."
"Tell me the story of you and father, then. You always mention he died on the battlefield. How did you two meet?" said the girl with a cheerful smile,
"Well... it all began in an estate..." As she recounted the story of her time in the estate, she intentionally omitted certain details, carefully concealing certain information.
"That's such a lovely story," the girl exclaimed, her smile brimming with joy. However, a faint sense of familiarity tinged her emotions. Why did this story feel somewhat familiar?
The girl didn't know, but gradually, she felt sleepy.
"Mommy, could you please blow out the candle? I want to sleep," the girl softly requested.
Artoria hesitated for a moment, her thoughts lingering. "Well... my dear..." she trailed off, uncertain.
The girl's brows furrowed with concern. "What's the matter, mommy?"
After a brief pause, Artoria finally spoke, her voice laced with vulnerability. "Could we perhaps leave the candle lit?"
Understanding dawned on the girl's face. "Oh, I see... Mommy, you're already so grown-up, and yet you still have a fear of the dark. Honestly, it's alright. I'll simply get under the blankets and fall asleep. Ah... mommy is so warm."
Gradually, the girl succumbed to sleep, her breathing growing steady and peaceful. Meanwhile, Artoria too settled into her own position, her mind drifting into the realm of dreams.
A peaceful life in the estate.
This was everything she had.
And this tranquil life would continue...
Forever.
