"I heard from my mother that waiting alone is very lonely. But when I was waiting just now, it wasn't like that—
It was as if I was madly waiting for someone, feeling very happy to spend time waiting for my father… I thought I could endure it a little longer… but in the end, I found I couldn't suppress it…"
Mordred spoke in a tone unlike before.
That eager emotion was the true essence.
"Perhaps from the moment my mother brought me to Camelot, no, even before I saw you parading with the knights, I was already in love with you."
Mordred felt shy, her heart racing.
Her ears were as red as if they were bleeding.
"Um…"
Listening to her heartfelt words, the first feeling that arose in Moran's heart was cuteness.
Then, he felt an overwhelming sense of shame.
He had always regarded Mordred as a daughter, but now there was a passionate impulse within him, like a thirst for blood.
Anxiety and unease intertwined in his heart.
The vague emotions entangled in his consciousness were terrifying; that comfort was sweeter than anything, stirring his very being.
Warmth spread from his neck, seeping into his mind from his earlobes.
Even if Moran did not expect happiness.
It would still transform into sweet dew, gradually flowing into his heart.
"Mordred…"
Moran could only utter the name of the woman before him.
The truth was, he could no longer view Mordred with the same eyes as before, and she did not want him to do so either.
His throat was drier than he had imagined.
Words were blocked, not due to confusion or unconsciousness. He felt uneasy about his current mindset.
He realized he was stepping into a taboo.
Looking at Mordred, who radiated warmth, Moran's heart could not remain calm.
The overflowing aura of love was so vibrant.
It made his spine tingle and ignited his emotions.
Moran couldn't help but sigh at this wicked nature, realizing he didn't even have the thought of denial.
He wanted to respond to Mordred.
Conflicting emotions clashed within him.
—He could no longer hesitate.
Moran turned to face Mordred.
He leaned in, their faces naturally overlapping.
So gentle it could melt the first snow.
This was also a necessary action he chose to further confirm their distance.
Slowly parting, their hands still did not separate.
The two exchanged extremely awkward glances.
Casting aside all the restraints until now, they simply conveyed their feelings through their eyes.
"Ah…"
Mordred knew she was clumsy.
But feeling the passionate response of emotions, it was still such a sincere feeling.
Had her mother and King Arthur ever felt such happiness?
It was like the joy of falling into an abyss.
Surely, anyone would find it unbearable, right?
"Hehe…"
Mordred's expression bloomed like a flower.
Her cheeks flushed, revealing a hint of charm.
Her heart raced, filled with a deep sense of happiness, as if it were about to overflow.
Returning to that initial thought.
She wanted to dedicate everything to him, uprooting all she had and giving it all.
Let this love become the flesh and blood of a man.
"Love me—show me mercy."
"Um—"
With the last sentence as a dividing line.
It was a violation that completely overwhelmed Moran, leaving no room for any other thoughts in his mind.
It felt as if he had lost himself.
Moran willingly accepted the alluring temptation.
It was also to fill the regrets of the past.
This time, Moran chose to indulge in the warmth, hoping to gain the happiness he desired.
Temporarily abandoning the so-called worldly norms.
Willing to be enchanted by this taboo.
The night sky seemed to hang with a moon about to fall.
The man's thoughts were quite complex.
"Ah… if Morgan finds out about this… she would probably scold me for being a pervert…"
Moran sighed helplessly, rubbing his forehead.
However, the deed was done.
He had never thought about the possibility of avoidance; perhaps when he first confronted Mordred in Britain, he had already envisioned this scene.
His thoughts gradually transformed into the days spent with Mordred.
The peaceful, sweet life they had shared.
Although it had been tumultuous in Britain, looking back, it all felt like wonderful memories.
Even if he treated her so openly.
Would it change anything?
No, it wouldn't change anything.
Moran and Mordred would still be family, still exchanging love as before.
"It really is, if you do something like this again, Mordred, I won't be so polite."
"Um… then next time…?"
Mordred's nose was poked, and her little face turned red.
Her eyes brimmed with anticipation.
Since she had tasted it once, she wouldn't hold back the second time.
"Next time, we'll talk about it then. You can't overindulge at once; it wouldn't be good for you. As for my feelings, that's another matter; don't think about going wild on your first time."
Moran caressed Mordred's face.
This girl prioritized his well-being, but compared to the battle-hardened Moran, it was clear that Mordred was lacking in strength, not to mention she was a rookie on the battlefield.
Being overly strong-willed would only lead to her getting hurt.
Moran naturally didn't want to see her do such things.
Although Mordred was now a servant spirit, he didn't want to add any flaws to this process.
"Um… I'll do my best next time…!"
"You're not willing to lose even in this regard… so strong-willed… you're just like Morgan and Artoria…"
Moran couldn't help but shake his head and smile wryly.
This stubbornness was indeed hereditary.
However, he was also casual about it.
Moran had absolute confidence in his own qualities; otherwise, he wouldn't be able to do this.
"But you can't compete with Iris like that anymore. If you keep competing with Iris, I might have to enforce family rules. I don't want to see you two acting like enemies all the time."
Moran mentioned a crucial matter.
He needed to explain this issue to Mordred.