"..."
"..."
The air fell silent in an instant.
With her face flushed red, Mélusine just stared at Artoria, who had appeared before her.
Her mind was filled with the thought, "This is absolutely not okay."
But—
Her senses, already entangled with Ian's, were completely beyond her control.
Pant.
Pant.
Pant.
The petite swordswoman became the focus of the moment.
It's over.
This time it's really over.
Not only had she not told Artoria she would be here, but she had been caught in the act.
Even as she thought this, she couldn't help but lean towards him.
He was so warm.
She couldn't hold back.
Panting, Mélusine looked at Artoria with an unfocused gaze.
However—
"..."
Faced with Mélusine's obvious act of infidelity, Artoria's expression wasn't one of surprise.
In fact, she didn't seem agitated at all; instead, there was a sense of relief.
Artoria first patted Mélusine's head, then sat down beside Ian, leaned against him, and asked softly.
"Does Mélusine taste good right now?"
"..."
Mélusine was a little surprised.
After all, these were words spoken in line with a "dragon's" habits, not the language Artoria herself was accustomed to using.
But precisely because of this—
Mélusine understood just how familiar she was with Ian.
"Very good."
Ian nodded.
"Just as good as Artoria."
"I see."
Artoria nodded.
She said no more, but simply sat there.
This was, of course, not a normal reaction, but Mélusine found that she could no longer escape.
In front of Artoria, she very rarely displayed the side of her that wanted to please Ian.
"Please?."
"I'm begging you?."
"Please make me happy?."
Artoria saw all of this.
However, her expression no longer held its usual coldness; in its place was a relieved smile.
....
After a long time.
Finally satisfied by Ian, Mélusine lay on the bed with a look of contentment.
But...
After extreme pleasure came extreme clarity.
Mélusine immediately realized a problem.
This was not her room!
And Ian was not her husband!
"Um..."
Mélusine looked at Artoria, who was already staring at her, her face flushing red.
It was a look of shame, and at the same time, a complete lack of etiquette.
With her legs spread, she was no different from a jug filled to the brim.
"My King, I..."
"In private, just call me Artoria."
The King of Camelot said with a calm tone.
"Have you forgotten?"
"But I can't call you that right now, I..."
"Are you afraid?"
Artoria suddenly asked this.
"Do I look like I'm scaring you?"
"..."
After hesitating for a moment to confirm that Artoria was simply asking a question and not implying anything else, Mélusine nodded.
"You don't need to be afraid."
Before Artoria could answer Mélusine, Ian spoke up first.
He scooped Artoria up in his arms, as if she were a princess.
"Artoria tastes very good. She is not someone to be afraid of."
"..."
"But I..."
Mélusine clutched at her clothes.
She had tried her best to prevent the messy evidence of Ian's affection from being so apparent to Artoria.
But—
The size difference between them was just too great.
Even though she wanted to, she couldn't.
"Just tell me next time."
"Didn't I say it before? You can be his lover."
Held by Ian, the devastatingly alluring Artoria said softly.
Mélusine was stunned for a moment. After confirming she hadn't misheard, she replied.
"Artoria, you're not joking, are you?"
"I... I only came in after seeing Baobhan Sith, but I ended up doing this. You... don't you mind?"
"I might have minded before."
"But now—"
Artoria looked at Ian holding her.
"I think, actually, there's no need to mind so much."
"I have many things to deal with. I can't always be by Ian's side, nor can I always indulge with him like this."
"If someone, someone I trust, could help me with this, then why not?"
"Of course, whether Sister thinks the same way, I'm not sure."
"But from my perspective, Mélusine, you are a good candidate—Ian likes you very much, and I also think you are a fine knight."
"..."
There was none of the anger she had expected, not even many words of condemnation.
Instead, Mélusine's heart ached even more.
"I'm sorry, I..."
"You don't need to be sorry." Artoria wrapped her arms around Ian's neck.
The King of Camelot, it seemed, was surprisingly skilled at pleasing a man.
"I just hope you won't betray this trust I'm placing in you."
"Can you do that?"
"I-I definitely won't!"
In her excitement, another large stain appeared.
She stood up, a little embarrassed.
"I'll go clean up and come back!"
"Artoria, may I borrow your bath!"
"..."
"What's wrong?"
Just as she was about to leave, Mélusine noticed Artoria's gaze.
It was a look that meant "don't go."
"Is there something else?"
"Mélusine, do you like this?" Artoria asked.
"Like this?"
"What do you mean?"
Mélusine asked cautiously.
"It's..."
Artoria gestured for Ian to put her down. Then, she carefully leaned in close to the knight and began to gently rub her fair stomach.
"N-No, don't do that!"
After Mélusine shouted, Artoria temporarily stopped her hand.
The latter also realized what she meant.
"Well..."
"It's alright."
"Although it's a bit awkward at first, once you get used to it, only happiness remains."
"So, you don't dislike it, right?" Artoria summarized.
"..."
"More or less," Mélusine nodded.
"Then..."
Artoria leaned close to Mélusine.
"How about you try... having Ian's child?"