Chapter 227: Decisions and Preparations
Lott continued to observe, his thoughts churning as he watched the scene unfold.
"You're still so shy, aren't you?" Morgan teased, her arms crossed as she looked at Altria, whose face was flushed with embarrassment.
Altria struggled to respond, her face still buried in Morgan's chest. "No, I'm not… just trying to breathe," she said awkwardly. Being held like this, she felt suffocated.
This is Morgan, she thought. But if it were Gawain instead…
Altria shivered at the mere thought of that scenario.
Morgan noticed Altria's discomfort and couldn't help but smile with satisfaction. There was a certain delight in teasing her reserved sister.
"Alright, alright. I'll let you go," Morgan said, gently releasing Altria.
"Hah, hah…" Altria took deep breaths, finally able to catch her breath again. She looked up at Morgan, her expression a mix of confusion and frustration.
"Sister… sister?" she stammered, the word feeling foreign on her tongue.
Morgan's heart warmed as she heard Altria call her "sister" for the first time. She reached out, gently stroking Altria's head, and couldn't resist giving the hair sticking up—a symbol of Altria's stubbornness—a playful tug.
Lott watched from the side, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Morgan's playful gesture. [Hey, don't pull that! If you yank out the ahoge, she might go berserk!] he thought nervously.
Morgan, sensing his thoughts, shot him a curious glance. What's this about "going berserk"? she wondered, then decided to test it out by tugging on the ahoge once more.
"Elder sister!" Altria exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and protest, her cheeks puffing in a rare show of frustration.
Morgan, satisfied with her teasing, finally let go. "Well, since everything's out in the open, we can all breathe a little easier. There's no need to hide anything anymore," she said with a gentle smile. "And as for the Holy Spear, that's your decision. I won't stop you."
She knew that revealing the truth was better than Altria finding out in some other way and being hurt by it. It was a difficult truth to share, but necessary.
"Take your time to think it over. If you decide to take up the Holy Spear, go to Merlin. I'm sure he'll help you, despite what happened today. But I don't want to see you become a slave to Rhongomyniad."
Before leaving, Morgan looked back at Altria, her voice filled with concern. "Remember, the choice is yours. Whatever you decide, we'll support you."
Altria, feeling overwhelmed, turned to Lott, her eyes full of uncertainty. "What do you think, Your Majesty Lott?"
"Now that you've accepted your identity, you don't need to call me 'Your Majesty Lott.' Just call me brother-in-law," Lott said with a smile.
"Brother-in-law…?" Altria repeated awkwardly, still getting used to the new family dynamic.
"That's right!" Lott nodded warmly. "As for your decision, I agree with your sister. Whether you take up the Holy Spear or not, it's entirely your choice. When we chose to rule Camelot, it was our own decision. This is yours to make."
He gave her an encouraging smile before taking Morgan's hand. "Now that we've said our piece, we'll leave you to think it over."
The couple turned and left, leaving Altria standing alone, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.
"What should I do?" she murmured to herself, caught in a web of doubt and indecision.
Outside the tent, as they walked hand-in-hand, Morgan turned to Lott. "Do you think I made the right decision, telling her all this?"
"Absolutely," Lott replied without hesitation.
"Why?" Morgan asked, seeking reassurance.
"Because it's what you believe is right. And I trust your judgment," he said gently, reaching out to pat her head. "Besides, if you think it's the right thing to do, then it is."
Morgan looked up at him, her eyes filled with warmth. But before she could respond, Lott suddenly dipped down and buried his face in her chest.
"What are you doing, you idiot?!" she exclaimed, startled.
Lott grinned cheekily. "Just experiencing the same feeling our sister did a moment ago."
Morgan rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her exasperation. "You're impossible…"
Still, she wrapped her arms around him gently, holding him close.
[She smells amazing,] Lott thought, his mind blissfully content.
Hearing his thoughts, Morgan glanced around quickly to make sure no one was watching. Then, she smacked him on the head. "You pervert!"
Lott recoiled, clutching his head in mock pain. "Why do I always end up getting hit?" he whined.
The next morning, the anticipated attack from the Wind Clan began as planned.
In the early morning mist, the faint silhouettes of the Wind Clan's forces could be seen preparing for battle.
Camelot's army was ready and waiting. The soldiers, their armor polished to a brilliant shine, stood at attention, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight. Lott had always emphasized the importance of being well-prepared for battle. Weapons needed to be sharpened and armor maintained—everything had to be in perfect condition.
However, it wasn't Altria leading the troops today. Instead, it was Lott and Morgan who stood at the forefront, commanding the forces. Altria had remained in her tent, still grappling with the choice she had to make regarding the Holy Spear.
"Your Majesty Morgan, what's going on with Altria?" Guinevere asked, her voice filled with concern as she approached Morgan before the battle.
"She's just thinking things over," Morgan replied. Not wanting to reveal too much, she continued to refer to Altria using male pronouns, uncertain how Guinevere would react to the truth.
"Thinking? About what?" Guinevere asked, her curiosity piqued.
"That's something she needs to decide for herself," Morgan said, a hint of finality in her voice. "But right now, we have a battle to fight."
She turned her gaze toward the battlefield, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the enemy lines. "Let's focus on this for now."
With a determined smile, Morgan readied herself. Even without Altria, she was confident they could handle the Wind Clan. After this battle, there would be more challenges ahead, but she was ready to face them head-on.
On the other side, the Wind Clan's forces were forming their ranks. However, they seemed hesitant, unwilling to make the first move.
"They're just hanging back, as usual," Morgan muttered. "If they were in Camelot's army, I'd have them all court-martialed for cowardice."
At the forefront of the Wind Clan's formation stood a small figure. Unlike the last time Morgan had seen her, Melusine was no longer dressed in the elegant blue gown of a noblewoman. Instead, she wore blue armor, clearly prepared for combat.
"So she's ready to fight," Morgan noted. "Knights, prepare to engage the fairies!"
"Understood!" The knights of the Round Table responded in unison, their voices firm and resolute.
The strategy they had devised the previous day was simple: focus their efforts on the fairies, neutralizing their threat before turning their attention to the Wind Clan.
As the knights took their positions, Morgan couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. No matter what challenges lay ahead, she was ready to face them with Lott by her side. And as for Altria, she would make her own choice, one that would define her path forward.
The battle was about to begin, and Camelot's fate hung in the balance.