Fate: Servant and Cook Chapter 12: Arc I: Trials and Errors 12, a fate/stay night fanfic

And it's that time again, ladies and gents. Welcome to the twelfth installment of F:SC. Those who enjoy it, come back for chapter thirteen! Those who don't, well, thanks for popping in anyway. :) May you enjoy the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. And, for the record, this had way too many funny parts to write.

The door slammed shut behind him as Shirou clanked into his and Zago's room, eyes narrowed as he found his target. Zago had jolted awake from the loud noise and only stared at the man he hadn't seen for practically a month. Shirou took off the helmet that had kept his identity more or less a secret and stared at Zago, his eyes far colder than Zago had ever recalled them being.

"Zago," Shirou called out as he walked into the room and sat on his now dusty cot. "I need some information from you."

Zago just continued to stare at him, not even bothering to tame the mess of platinum-blond hair on his head. A frown slowly appeared on the redhead's face as Zago chose to stay quiet for once in his life. He gritted his teeth.

"Zago. I don't have the patience to wait for you to get over whatever your deal is right now. We've got to talk."

The blond finally snapped out of his state of shock and frowned back at Shirou, his hand held out as if waiting for something to be given to him. Shirou focused on the hand for a moment before his angry gaze slowly floated back up to look at his roommate, tension practically radiating off of his body. He grabbed Zago's wrist, pulling the lazy man off of his bunk and up close so that Zago got the point.

"I don't have time for games, Zago," Shirou warned, his need for information overriding his desire to be kind to his friend. "You know everyone who's anyone, practically. Tell me what you know about Dai."

Zago frowned at Shirou. "What's happened to you, mate?"

The lack of the word "dude" made Shirou take a step back mentally, and he let go of the blond's wrist. Hesitantly taking a step back to create some room between the two of them, Shirou closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. Just because he'd been through hell for the past month didn't mean that he could just treat his friend like this – a friend who had no idea of what kind of hell he'd just experienced.

"Sorry," he finally muttered, falling back to sit on his cot. "I'm just in a rush."

The blond tilted his head slightly, but slowly backed away to sit back on his own cot.

"Guess the trip didn't pan out as well as hoped?" Zago questioned, tone serious for a rare moment. "Did you not get enough supplies? What's got you so upset?"

Shirou narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What trip?"

"You know, the one you've been on for the past month to get supplies for the kitchen? That's why I was holding out my hand. No friend of mine would ever leave the castle and not come back with some kind of souvenir."

Trip? What trip? Was this the cover story Dai had come up with to explain away his absence? Ah, that actually made some sort of sense. Providing something happened when Shirou was outside of Camelot, his death could be explained away because of a wild animal of something gone awry, inevitably cutting off any possibility of his having been involved with the foreigner's death. Shirou closed his eyes as he felt himself grow even angrier. Dai had been resolute on erasing Shirou's existence from the plate without a hint as to what had truly transpired, and it was pissing Shirou off.

"No," he eventually said, voice deepened from his inner turmoil. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but I was never a part of any kind of supply run. You've been misinformed."

Frowning, Zago leaned forward. "What do you mean there wasn't a trip? Then where the hell have you been for the past month? I had to fucking do your share of the work, you know. That wasn't exactly a walk in the park."

Shirou shook his head. "Oh, I've been gone for good reason. More like, kidnapped, beaten down, and then stuffed into a jail cell to rot away without anyone the wiser."

"You what?" Zago exclaimed, automatically looking towards the door as if fearing someone would come charging in because of the volume of his voice. "What the fuck do you mean you were in jail? How the fuck were you in jail? Why the fuck did the king put you in jail?"

"The king had nothing to do with me being in jail."

"What?" Zago asked, bewildered. "But he's the only one with authorization to make that call. How the hell were you put in there otherwise? What, did you take a wrong turn and, oh no, find yourself in a cell that just happened to lock behind you? Were you drunk?"

The redhead leaned forward, expression calm but completely serious. "Listen, Zago. I need you to tell me every damn thing you know about Dai. His shifts. His tendencies. His haunts. Where he sleeps. Who he talks to usually. Any information you've got on him, any at all, is something I need to know. Right now."

Zago was obviously thrown by all the new information that had been stuffed down his throat. "Why are you so fixated on that asshole? I get that he's a serious pain in the ass, but it's like you've got tunnel vision as far as he goes. What's he got to do with..."

Shirou could tell the exact moment that Zago realized the correlation. The man's grey eyes widened before narrowing into slits as his hands curled into fists on his knees. Zago breathed in and out slowly as anger swirled within him.

"That cock-sucking, motherfucking, shit-eating..." he growled out.

"Yeah," was all Shirou could reply with.

Zago looked back at him. "So that asshole kidnapped you and sent you to rot in a cell without the king knowing a damn thing? You're going to tell King Arthur, right? Get that dumbass on the chopping block and out of our fucking lives forever?"

With a shake of his head, Shirou argued, "No. Telling King Arthur wouldn't do anything. Sh-... He needs evidence, and I don't have any – not the irrefutable kind, anyway. Dai has his grimy fingers wrapped around so many people in this stupid place, that he would probably just be let out soon enough, and after that, we'd probably never see him again. That's not to say he wouldn't still be running the show around here. There are just too many layers to dissect before I can really get rid of him. If I could, I'd just go to his room, kill him, and be done with it. That's not going to work though."

"I never thought I'd hear you talk about killing someone so easily," Zago pointed out, a strange expression on his face. "This month has changed you, my friend."

"No," Shirou denied, "it's just reminded me of something I'd thought I'd lost long ago."

The blond tilted his head and paused from speaking for a few minutes. Eventually, he leaned forward, his expression more determined than Shirou had ever seen it before. All evidence of his normal lackadaisical, lazy self were gone, replaced with a man with a mission.

"All right," Zago said, strength underlying his voice, "you said you wanted to know about Dai? His, what, shifts? Places he goes, people he sees, all that important stuff?"

"Yeah," Shirou said. "What can you tell me?"

"Not much, honestly," Zago answered. "Dai's pretty much your run-of-the-mill detestable individual, despite his tendency to want to kill everything and anything that pisses him off or offends Telyn in the slightest. I'm pretty sure that if he hadn't targeted you, even with you seeing him every day, you'd never have noticed him. He's just that kind of guy."

Shirou made a small noise of agreement. "You're right. He's capable of getting in and out of places without alerting anyone. He's kind of like a snake – you don't realize you're in trouble until he latches onto you and poisons you."

"Right. As for his shifts – well, he's still on night duty. That hasn't changed, but lately, he's also been doing the morning and evening shifts, too. He's always randomly absent during the afternoons, but that suits me just fine. As for who he sees and meets, or what he does," Zago continued with a shrug, "sorry, my brother. You're out of luck with that one. I've never really considered him worthy of paying much attention to before all of this, so I couldn't tell you a damned thing."

"What about where he sleeps? Where are his quarters?"

Zago raised his gaze to look at the ceiling before letting out a soft sigh. "All I know is that he lives on the second floor of the main wing, like Baeddan. It's a perk of being a part of the Upper Echelons."

There was a small moment of silence before Zago snapped his fingers. "Oh, wait, that's right. Fourth door from the right side of the hall."

Shirou couldn't help but blink with surprise. "That's pretty exact."

"The fucker made some kind of big hullabaloo about how Telyn being on the very end of the corridor might put her in danger, and he forced the poor soul in the room next to him to move the hell out so Telyn would be right next to him. She currently lives in between him and Baeddan, actually."

Well, that was an interesting piece of information.

"So, which room is Telyn's?" Shirou asked, a plan forming in his head. "Third or fifth door?"

"Third," replied Zago before frowning. "Wait, what are you going to do anyway?"

Shirou stood up slowly. While he was somewhat loathe to rid himself of the perfect disguise he currently had on, the clanking of the armor wouldn't allow him to move around with the silent quickness he required to sneak into Dai's room. As he started relieving himself of one piece of armor after another, he told Zago, "Not something I'm going to bore you with. Let's just say I've got a bone to pick with that asshole."

Zago stood up as well, watching as Shirou reached into a foot locker for a spare set of clothing. As soon as Shirou was dressed again in an unassuming pair of breeches, boots, and tunic, he asked, "Are you going to kill him?"

Shirou paused before slowly turning to look back at the blond. "Were you planning to turn me in if I were?"

"No," Zago said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'd just need to make preparations for where to bury the body without getting in trouble. Oh, and I'd have to steal a couple of shovels from the gardening crew, somehow."

With some hesitation, Shirou looked back at Zago, eyes wide. "Seriously? No chiding or words of retribution?"

"Who the fuck has time for that shit?" asked Zago, one eyebrow lifted. "We're brothers until the end. You need someone out of the way? Just let me get the cleanup crew organized. Need that one specific ingredient for a hellacious itching powder? Got you covered, man. Need that one asshole who threw you in jail to be six feet under instead? Give me a few hours, and we'll have that taken care of, no problem."

Shirou made a slow, slightly unsteady grin. "Thanks, Zago. I'll keep that in mind when some other crazy idiot wants to off me."

"Go fuck off if you plan to start crying," Zago retorted with his own grin. "I ain't got time for that sissy stuff. Just let me know what happens, yeah? You're not allowed to be the only one laughing his ass off."

Shirou clapped Zago on the shoulder once before walking away and heading for the door. As soon as he opened it, he heard his friend say,

"I'll let Eos know about what's happened with you. She's got enough clout that Baeddan will believe her without setting off Dai in any way."

He nodded shortly before opening the door fully and walking out into the hallway. He let out a deep sigh as soon as the door was closed behind him before straightening up and heading down the corridor for the main building. He saw a number of curious expressions on people's faces as he passed by, though he could hardly care less as to what they thought of a foreigner walking down the hallways of the servants' quarters. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only, and that was dealing with the man who had made his life hell for far too long now.

Shirou walked up the stairwell of the main wing up to the second floor, his golden-brown eyes sweeping down the hallway to check for stragglers or officials coming and going. Seeing no one in plain sight, he inwardly counted the number of doors as he passed them. As soon as he reached the fourth one, he set his hand on the door handle before hesitating and looking back to his right at the third door. He hardly thought of his options for barely a minute before his boots were scuffing against the floor softly and he was at the third door instead.

He gingerly attempted to open the door, but wasn't surprised any to find it locked tight. A few more glances down the corridor both ways and without a second thought, his hand was on the lock itself as he cast a Structural Analysis. With the lock being so simple, it was child's play to swiftly understand its overall design and quickly reproduce a key that would unlock the door. Shirou once again looked around him before tracing the key, unlocking and opening the door and slipping into the room silently.

The first thing he noticed as he came into the room was that no one was actually there. Telyn was absent, which meant that Dai was too, for the moment. That didn't mean he had much time to dawdle around though. Shirou walked into the room, noticing that while it wasn't all that big, it had an actual bed, with a mattress and covers and a pillow and... Shirou grunted and turned away, letting his eyes take in the desk, mirror and... For fuck's sake, she had a fucking miniature fireplace?

A spark of irritation hit him as he realized how different it really was when you held rank in this type of society and realized just how far off he was from making a difference of any kind as a lowly cook. Even being a soldier should offer him more advantages than he currently had. What he wouldn't have given for an actual fireplace over the winter, though.

Shirou looked around the room some more for anything that might strike his curiosity before his eyes landed on the drawers of the desk. He tilted his head and attempted to open one, but it had nothing of value inside. Rocking back on his heels, he then tried the next one, but found it wouldn't budge. Eyes narrowing, Shirou once more quickly ran a scan over its locking mechanism, produced another key, and heard it click open. As soon as he heard the noise, Shirou slid the drawer open to see a bunch of different items laying inside, askew. He ruffled though a few parchments, not really seeing anything of importance before a glimmer of blue caught his eye.

Curiosity piquing, Shirou picked up the blue gem, looking at the golden necklace attached to it. He looked it up and down before finally nodding and pocketing it. Shirou slid the drawer shut again and immediately locked it again afterwards. He didn't want her to figure out he'd taken anything so easily. He stood up swiftly afterwards and headed to the door. As soon as he opened it slowly, he listened calmly for any sound of someone coming before judging the coast to be clear. Shirou, after giving a quick glance down both sides of the hallway, slipped out of the room and locked it with the necessary key before dashing over to the next room, and running through the same process for Dai's door.

As he opened it gingerly, he was relieved to find that, as initially assumed, Dai was absent. Where his target actually was, he couldn't be certain, but there was a definite guarantee that the man would be back, no matter what. It might take hours upon hours for that to happen, but it would happen. Hopefully, the man would come back before trying to pay a visit to his cousin to see if the job had been finished as necessitated.

Shirou locked the door from the inside and walked in to sit on the mattress. From what he could tell, it was filled with down feathers, which pissed him off more. He was normally sleeping on a shitty, thin cot, and for the past month, he'd be sleeping on a cold, hard ground with only hay for comfort. All of this while Dai, a murderer, for no other word could describe him so succinctly, was essentially living in a sort of paradise.

Shirou cracked his knuckles, eagerly biding his time for when Dai returned for their wonderful reunion.

Luckily for him, however, it was only a little over an hour later that Shirou finally heard some voices echo down the hallway. He calmly leapt to his feet, sliding into the space behind the door just as he heard Dai stop in front of it.

"You go in first, Telyn. I want to make sure everything's all right with you first."

"Dai," Shirou heard Telyn say with some exasperation. "I'm hardly a skip and jump away from you. Must you do this every day?"

"Baeddan lives right next to you," Shirou's target explained. "Who knows what he'd do to you if given the chance."

"Nothing," came the eventual reply, with flat tones. "He wouldn't do anything because he has little interest in anything that doesn't concern the kitchen. You are paranoid, my friend."

"Better paranoid than dead," Dai retorted before Shirou heard Telyn scoff.

Shirou heard a door open and then shut before tensing as the door to Dai's room opened, just barely leaving him enough room to breathe. Dai grumbled a bit as he walked in before turning around to close the door and lock it. It was with a slow realization that the scruffy man slowly turned to his right to see Shirou standing right next to him, eyes gleaming with a blazing fury. Shirou, looking as relaxed as could be for a would-be assassin, simply smirked slightly and whispered,

"Hey."

Before Dai could even let out a shout of fright or surprise, Shirou had clapped a hand over his mouth and pushed him further into the room. Pushing him away slightly, the redhead chucked a fist straight into Dai's stomach before clocking him again with a hook. When Dai hit the floor with dull sound, Shirou immediately traced a regular sword and held its point at his target's neck, his eyes colder than Dai had ever before witnessed.

"Now," Shirou began, his voice soft, "get up and sit on the bed."

Dai hesitated. "You can't do this. You're insane. One shout from me and you're done! Finished!"

From his pocket, Shirou withdrew the necklace he'd stolen from Telyn's room over an hour before. Dai's eyes narrowed in on it automatically before the man frowned, not recognizing its significance.

"Ooo, a pretty bauble for the Scottish idiot," Dai snipped, feeling bolder. "What, do you plan to hypnotize me or something?"

Shirou regained his smirk. "I take it you don't recognize this. What a shame. I'm sure she'd have a few words to say about your supposed friendship then."

"She who?" Dai shot back.

Shirou made certain the sword just barely touched the other man's Adam's apple as he explained: "Your beloved friend, Telyn, of course. Don't you recognize the beautiful necklace that she cherishes so much that she keeps it under lock and key so that no one else can get to it?"

Seeing Dai pale slightly, Shirou tilted his head. "So, you and I are going to have a little talk, and unlike last time, you're going to be telling me every single thing I want to know, if you want Telyn to stay alive. Or," he continued with a shrug, "you can ignore me and I'll just kill her the first chance I get. I could do it now, even. I'll bet she's asleep right now. She'd never even feel it – it'd be a merciful death."

"Don't touch her!" Dai exclaimed before shutting up as Shirou pressed the point deeper against his neck.

Waving the necklace back and forth once more before pocketing it, Shirou gestured at the bed with a quick nudge of his head. "Get over there."

The brunet scrambled for his bed, jumping onto it before freezing as the blade once again found his neck. Dai held up his hands in a semblance of surrender, though Shirou didn't bother moving away or letting the pressure in the room die off any. Shirou slid his left hand in his pocket as he stared at Dai as coolly and calmly as he was capable, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Now," Shirou said, his voice laden with authority, "first things first: tell me what you know about Valeria."

Dai grunted, his eyes glaring with hatred at Shirou. "Not that much. She's currently receiving training from the great Merlin himself, but from what I can tell, she's pretty up there in ability. Whatever skills you saw from her when you two battled was only the tip of the iceberg. I don't know what all she's capable of, but she's a real threat, to anyone who finds themselves as her enemy."

"What's your connection to her?"

"Tch," spit out Dai. "I've been running circles around the high-and-mighty people since I first got here. I talked to people, made contacts, all of that shit. She came looking for me one night with an offer of more power if I completed some more tasks for her. Kill some people, keep watch on others, make sure things run the way she wants them to."

Shirou frowned. "Why? You didn't even question it?"

Dai laughed abruptly. "Question what? She gave me advantages. Any time someone screws with me and I can't deal with them, she does. I'm necessary for her, see? I blend in well enough that I can accomplish things that she's too high-profile to even bother with. I do what she wants, and get what I want. What more do I need?"

"You didn't think for one moment that she'd kill you anyway?"

"Even if she did, so what? I've got no one waiting for me – no one gives a shit if I live or not. There's Telyn, but she's kind enough to get a new friend or guardian within a second."

At that, Shirou couldn't deny the truth of the statement. He knew he would never cry if the guy bit the dust. Nodding slightly, but keeping his grip on the sword steady, Shirou asked a different question:

"How often do you meet? Is there any way for you to call her to you?"

The scruffy man's hackles rose as he got tired of being interrogated. "Fuck you. I'm tired of –"

Shirou simply pulled out the necklace again and pressed the tip of the sword in further, watching emotionlessly as a trickle of blood made its way down Dai's neck. The latter winced but bit his lip and argued no further.

"She calls me. I don't know how to get in touch with her," Dai finally admitted, his face screwed up into a scowl."

"Anything you do know about her?" Shirou continued to press.

"She's a fucking psychopathic bitch."

Well, that they could both agree on, Shirou realized as his eyebrows rose. Dai bent back a bit to clear his throat, although Shirou only moved in closer with the blade afterwards.

Dai glared at him again. "If you want to find out more about her, you'd best ask Merlin, or for fuck's sake, some other mage. They'll probably know her, unless the damn bitch lied to me about that, too."

"Last question about her," Shirou said. "What's her deal with the king? Why's she trying to cause disorder?"

"Hmph," Dai harrumphed. "You tell me one person who is actually reasonably okay with a mere boy taking the reins of control over an entire kingdom at the age of fifteen. King Arthur was hardly a squire and yet suddenly, bam, he's king? Because he pulled out a magic sword that is fated to the next king? He has zero capability, zero experience in running any type of force, and the only reason he isn't dead yet is because of that stupid sheath."

Shirou glared back at Dai. "King Arthur had royal lineage – he would have taken control over the kingdom regardless."

"If you believe the rumors, sure," Dai scoffed again. "I've also heard he was a bastard child and not actually related whatsoever to King Uther. There are so many different stories floating around out there that you'd be hard-pressed to find one that pictures that kid as anything particularly amazing. Any damn mage can make a stupid enchanted sword. Look at you! You fucking whipped that thing out of nowhere. Are you going to tell me that it's saying you're going to beat back the Saxons with a single blow now, too?"

No. Shirou couldn't do that with this pathetic sword. A nice Gate of Babylon might pull that off for a good amount of time, if he didn't run out of the prana necessary to channel it before kicking the bucket himself.

Dai's explanation of the problems concerning the king also bothered him a bit, but he couldn't refute them whatsoever. At least the person he had met in the future had been the ripe age of twenty-five, which was a more than suitable age to begin running a kingdom, but it was true that the one right now was only seventeen, soon to be eighteen. Hell, she could be eighteen already. Whatever. He couldn't do anything about that right now. One problem at a time.

"Fine," Shirou conceded. "Let's switch topics. I heard you talking to Valeria when she thought I was unconscious –"

"Fucking hell," cursed Dai. "I damn well knew you weren't out. That stupid woman."

"Back to my questioning," Shirou cut in smoothly. "Who's Dylan? What's his role in all of this?"

Dai rolled his eyes. "He's some stupid right-hand guy who's always at the king's side. Always. Stupid squirrelly weakling of a man."

"What do you mean?" asked Shirou with some anxiousness. "And what's he got to do with anything?"

The other man sighed. "He meets with me every so often, getting me to do his dirty work for him. I don't really care, but the guy's a whole new kind of asshole. He's got to have balls of steel to pull all the shit he does under the king's nose and never get caught. It must be because he looks so fucking pathetic that it'd be hard to think him capable of anything like that."

"Is it possible to get close to him?"

"Not in your dreams, even, no," Dai denied, shaking his head slightly. "The guy is untouchable. He sees everything the king does, practically. Is a source of information for the king to use at all times. The guy's so out of reach that the only time I ever see him is when he's in the damn Great Hall being served. And even then, he only passes me pieces of paper. I had to learn to fucking read because of that idiot."

"Fine," Shirou finally said. "Enough about him, then."

So, Dylan was out of his reach, huh? But if he was always next to the king's side and willing to cause irreparable damage to the woman and her keep, then that was a serious problem. Unless he, again, somehow found a way to get closer to the king and in her confidence, he'd never be able to get Dylan out of the way. Shirou either had to become a right-hand man to someone extremely important, or prove himself in battle. While he wouldn't mind joining the military at this point, that might only create even more distance between himself and the king. He'd have to rise through the ranks extremely quickly, but he wasn't a master of swordplay. Without the memories of the swords he traced, he was pretty much a newbie to the art. Now, he could become an archer, but Shirou couldn't recall any real archers in the Knights of the Round Table, and it would take years to prove he was worthy anyway.

But wait – what about Mordred? He was another problem altogether. He had been planted by Morgana into King Arthur's service, and had somehow become a knight in her elite service. Damn it, when had he even come to the castle in the first place? Was he already here? Was he already one of the elite knights? Great, now Shirou had to worry about that, too.

"Next," Shirou stated with a shake of his head. "I want you to tell me how many people you're in contact with."

Dai smirked. "Good question."

As soon as Shirou threatened him again with the sword, Dai chuckled. "The answer is that I don't know. I know everyone, and at the same time, no one. Sorry, but anyone in this castle could be my contact at this point. I work fast, and hard."

That's what she said, thought Shirou irritably. "Fine. Then I want a list of every single person you've killed so far."

"What, like their names or something?" Dai asked, looking confused.

"Or something," Shirou repeated, feeling a bit cross.

"Why would you want to know something like that?"

Shirou just glared at the other man. "Their families deserve to know what happened. You just kidnapped these people and killed them. There's no way their families could possibly have any sort of closure."

Dai stared at him for a moment before bursting out with laughter. "Hoh, lookie here! Seems like we've got ourselves a saint!"

Shirou gritted his teeth as Dai's laughter finally died down and the man looked at him while saying, "Sorry, man. I haven't a clue of who those people were, or whose family they were. They were just in my way. I guess it wasn't their lucky day."

The sword in Shirou's hands dissipated slowly and Dai felt the leash around his neck loosen as Shirou looked away from him. Feeling like some of the danger had been uplifted, Dai leaned forward, as if ready to kill his intruder for treating him with so much disrespect. He watched Shirou breathe in slowly and let out a sigh. As he readied himself to pounce, Shirou suddenly spun, lifted a leg, and smashed his boot right into Dai's face, sending the man's head banging back against the wall behind him before ricocheting onto the bed. His hands reached for his now broken nose as he whimpered pathetically and curled up to save himself from more abuse.

Shirou scowled deeply at him, eyes wide and teeth still gritted as his hands clenched tightly into fists. Turning slowly, Shirou reached out and grabbed at Dai's tunic, pulling the other man up until he was face to face with Shirou. The latter's golden-brown eyes bore into Dai's hazel-yellow ones, his anger easily readable.

"Let me make this clear to you since you still don't get it," Shirou growled. "I want nothing more to do with you. If I see you outside of my shifts, I will give you reason to fear me. If I hear that you've been a part of some stupid scheme to make things even tougher around here, you can bet I'll be right back here, ready to give you another beat down. You get in my way, and I will make things very, very painful for you. Stay away from me, stay away from my friends, and if you ever, ever try to have me hurt again in any manner of speaking, then you'd better be prepared for the oncoming backlash, because I guarantee you that it will come."

Throwing Dai back onto the man's bed, he threw out another bit of information: "And, just to make sure you understand this, you now report to me. If you get contacted by Dylan, Valeria, or whomever, you talk to me. You get any interesting information, you talk to me. If I want something from you, you do it. If I need something procured, you get it for me. Got it?"

Dai groaned before whining, "You just told me to stay away from you..."

"Don't be a pest," Shirou snapped. "I'll be seeing you during our shifts. You can tell me what I need to know then."

"I fucking hate you," Dai complained, his glare sharper than before.

"I don't care," Shirou retorted, turning away and walking towards the door. He pulled out the necklace, turned back around and held it up plainly for Dai to see. "And, just so you don't get any bright ideas, my threat still stands. Her life is in your hands."

With that, he turned around, opened the door, and walked out without another word. The last thing Shirou heard as he walked down the empty hallway was a scream of frustration, which only made him start walking just a bit faster than before.

"Shirou! I was so worried about you!" Eos was quick to say when Shirou appeared in the kitchen for his shift after talking to Baeddan the day before.

Shirou grinned hesitantly before letting out a cough when Eos slammed into him for a powerful hug. Zago simply watched the two of them with a smirk on his face. When Eos finally backed away, her cheeks a rosy hue as she realized she'd let her emotions get the best of her, Shirou finally let out a small chuckle.

"It's good to see you again, too, Eos," he said sincerely.

As Eos and Shirou gathered at the table to begin preparing for the evening meal, with Zago lazily keeping them company and ignoring his own chores, the woman suddenly frowned, her countenance growing serious. After flicking a tendril of raven tresses out of her midnight-blue eyes, she focused them on Shirou.

"Is it true that you were not on an expedition for resources?" she asked softly, disguising their conversation under the premise of separating materials for cutting. "Please tell me you were not, in fact, trapped in the dungeons for an extended period of time."

Shirou passed Zago a glance, but the latter only shrugged his shoulders.

"She kept asking me questions I couldn't figure out how to answer," Zago explained in the end. "It made more sense to just tell her what happened rather than hope that any lies would stick."

The redhead sighed and turned to look back at Eos who merely narrowed her eyes further. When he hesitated, she turned her gaze away, looking somewhat disappointed. Shirou reached for a carrot and a knife himself, keeping track of all the other people in the kitchen to make sure there weren't any people lurking around listening to the conversation.

"It's true," he muttered, and Eos's lips firmed slightly. "There was nothing I could do about it."

"Had I but known," Eos whispered back, a tinge of regret present in her voice. "I might've been able to convince my husband to relieve you of your situation, or at the very least –"

Shirou put down the knife and rested a hand on Eos's shoulder, much to her surprise. "Hey, it isn't your fault. It happened. It's done."

Eos touched his hand gently, before pulling it from her shoulder and concentrating again on her task. Her eyes were narrowed as she grew quiet, much to the concern of both Shirou and Zago. Shirou looked back at Zago who shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his broom. Pushing away from the table, the blond moseyed away to do the job required of him, leaving Shirou relatively alone with Eos, who seemed different from her normal kind, gentle self. He didn't bother to try getting her to explain what was wrong and turned his attention instead to the vegetables he was supposed to be working on.

The two of them worked side-by-side in relative silence for the next ten, almost twenty minutes before the doors to the kitchen burst open and in walked a tall man who, again, looked as if he just stepped out of a Pantene commercial. Baeddan's brown eyes swept across the room before coming back to stare straight at Shirou, who looked back unabashed.

"Ro!" Baeddan called in a loud, clear voice. "You bless us with your presence! How fared your wonderful trip to the abyss beyond Camelot?"

Shirou quirked an eyebrow, unsure of how to take such a greeting. "Uh. It was, uh, pretty crappy?"

"Of course it was, of course it was," Baeddan agreed, motioning with a hand for Shirou to follow him. "The rest of you, continue with your duties. As interesting as I may prove myself to be, if you do not deliver an excellent batch of meal provisions this day, I will force down the slop we feed the pigs into your mouths and expect you to accept my loving gift with a wonderful smile. Chop chop!"

Shirou noticed several glares sent Baeddan's way as the two men walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. They both walked down to a far corner, away from those who might try to listen in. Once Baeddan felt they were safe to talk, he turned to Shirou, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. Shirou had a hand on his hip, ready to deal with any trouble that Baeddan might dish him. He hadn't escaped one hell just to have someone bring him down now. Baeddan, however, was hardly interested in doing anything of the sort.

"So, Ro," the older man began, eyes narrowed as he lost all trace of his earlier sarcasm. "I received a visit from your friend the other day during your absence."

"Yeah, so?" asked Shirou, muscles tensed.

Baeddan merely gave him a knowing glance. "He informed me of something interesting. So, tell me here and now. Were you, or were you not, a part of a group that traveled to search for ingredients, or something of that sort?"

Shirou shrugged and looked away. "No. I wasn't. Happy?"

"Hardly," came the serious reply. "Rather, I am quite irritated that I was misled in such a manner. I lost one of my best people for an entire month to suit the needs of a fool who has proved himself time and again to be completely dispensable. Be honest now – it was Dai, was it not?"

"Who knows?" Shirou questioned, not bothering to actually answer.

Baeddan regarded the other man with a small frown. "If it was Dai, I am going to refer him to higher authorities."

"Don't."

The demand caught Baeddan slightly off guard, and so did Shirou's eyes, filled with a coldness he had never seen, aside from his dealings with the king. Shirou turned to look at Baeddan with his complete attention, his shoulders pushed back as he readied himself for a possible fight.

"I'm the one who will deal with him," Shirou informed the Head Cook. "Let him be."

"He is causing a mockery in my kitchen."

"The prick is causing a mockery over the entire castle," retorted Shirou. "He has done nothing lately but cause me one stress after another, and I've had enough. Dai won't be able to do a thing anymore without telling me anyway. Leave him to me."

"Hmph," grunted Baeddan, unwilling to give even an inch on the subject. "And if I refuse?"

Shirou eyed the other man. "Then I promise you'll find out what it really means for your kitchen to be full of chaos."

"Hah! You could never manage it! You cherish the kitchen almost as much as I."

"You're right," Shirou admitted. "I do. Which is why I would really prefer it if you'd leave all of this to me. It's me who's been his target, so it should be me who is left to handle him. Please."

"Cease your groveling," sighed Baeddan. "I am not of a mind to listen to it. Fine, deal with the dog if you must. Do away with the cretin, even. It makes little difference to me. I will simply demand that the king retrieve me yet another servant, loathe as he may be to do so. I am of no mind to care for his excuses, no matter the case."

Shirou put his hands on his hips as he watched Baeddan stride away, the argument settled. Baeddan spun back around once more just to warn Shirou that there was to be no blood lost in the kitchen, before he turned back around and threw open the doors for another grand entrance. Crossing his arms over his chest, Shirou tilted his head as he closed his eyes tightly.

Damn it, I think he's starting to grow on me, the fucking asshole.

He shook his head at himself as he began walking back to the kitchens. He chose to make his entrance as unpretentious as possible to counter Baeddan's grandiose one. Shirou gave the kitchen a quick sweep with his eyes before he came across a pair of hazel-yellow irises. Dai froze when he saw the redhead, but Shirou forced himself to stay calm. He glanced quickly over Telyn who was stirring a soup before looking back at Dai. Then, he let a smirk slowly cross his face and turned away from Dai to head over to where Eos was still chopping veggies.

Sidling next to her, her retook up the mantle and starting putting his experience to good use as he went through one vegetable after another. He didn't really notice Eos look at him and beyond until her hands stilled for a few seconds. Shirou looked up from his work to see an expression that could freeze the hottest depths of hell. He felt himself flinch involuntarily, having never seen her look so unbelievably ticked off before. Following her line of vision, he noticed Dai reaching into a barrel for various resources and considered himself lucky that he was not on the receiving end of the woman's glare.

"Eos, relax," he suggested as kindly as he could. He didn't want her getting pissed off at him too, like every other woman in his life.

Eos slid her glare over to him and he swore that he could feel a touch of fear run down his spine. She finally turned away.

"Nothing is 'done', Shirou," she whispered, sounding far calmer than she looked. "Do not treat this as some kind of isolated incident, or as if he did something as mundane as stealing a bread roll from your plate. He kidnapped you. Put you in a cell in the dungeon. He, by all rights, left you for dead. You are my friend, Shirou. I cannot accept this while lying around like a miserable dog."

"It's okay," Shirou consoled her, a small smile on his face. "I've got everything under control."

Eos looked at him again before going back to cutting. "You had best hope you do," she warned, no pretense of jesting in her voice, "or I will take things into my own hands. Gladly."

"Isn't killing a sin?"

A secretive smile met his question. "Why, of course, Shirou. 'Thou shalt not kill' is one of our important ten commandments to follow under the Lord's word. There are worse ways to cause one's suffering, however. Sometimes, death is far too kind."

Shirou shuddered. "I know some pretty scary people around here. Anyway, you don't have to worry. I've got it all covered."

"Good," Eos answered. "Let us pray you do not need a woman's touch to seal the deal."

Shirou sent one last glare over at Dai himself, causing the other man to flinch slightly when he made eye contact.

"Yeah," he finally responded. "Let's hope."

Zago came back around with the broom under the guise of actually doing work, and while Eos gave him a soft glare, already knowing that he'd been doing nothing overall, Zago ignored her. Coming close to Shirou, Zago whispered,

"Eos is fucking scary as hell when she's pissed off. Best to stay on her good side, brother."

Shirou chuckled and gave Eos one last glance. "Understood."

Yeah, he had everything under control.

Strike that, nothing was really under control for him anymore.

For the first three weeks straight, Dai had reported to him about any oddities and instances like a good, little puppy, and Shirou realized that Dai's tree of contacts was quite widespread. Honestly, the man was like the modern day internet all wrapped up in a person, maybe like Google. If Zago could tell him all of the juicy gossip that was happening, then Dai was the one with all of the headline news reports – he knew who was who, what areas of the castle were under the most duress, what soldiers supported the king and what ones were on the fence, the movements of high-profile people like the chancellor, and other important people. The only news Dai couldn't obtain was within the main core of the knights, and anything that was directly the king's business. The man even had contacts within the village and knew of different methods to receive various supplies should the need arise for such.

Actually, as far as Dai went, that hadn't changed at all. He still reported in with only the slightest of hesitation, but it felt like something was off. Threatening him with Telyn's life still worked, of course, but... Well, Shirou wasn't quite sure what the actual issue was. Little things seemed to keep popping up, and Shirou knew it had nothing to do with Dai or his little minions – he knew who every single one of them were in the kitchen by now. He had a few reservations, but didn't think Telyn was the source for any of the problems either, which meant Dai hadn't cracked yet, although it was only a matter of time until he finally did. Shirou would deal with that problem when it finally happened.

No, all the little things could only be explained as the tiniest of accidents. Spilt salt into the soup, making it less tolerable than usual but still edible, a few pieces of meat that had not be cooked thoroughly and had caused some minor food poisoning, vegetables that weren't evenly cut or cooked resulting in less than acceptable dishes, older water being used as a base instead of fresher water, causing a few more health concerns – they were all incredibly tiny things and could easily be explained away with not having paid enough attention while cooking. It's just, they were also extremely basic foundations that any cook would pay attention to and immediately amend. Shirou would have never made such basal mistakes, ever. Yet, they always happened to happen to whatever he was working on.

The smaller things kept adding up and adding up, and now Baeddan was getting on his case about slipping at work. He hadn't done any such thing. He didn't know who was doing it, or how they were managing it, but whatever bad thing happened always did on his watch, and no one else's. He'd conferred with Eos and Zago about the matter when he'd had the chance, but they never saw anything actually take place either. Shirou had zero proof to put on the table, and people were starting to get suspicious of him.

Because he had only been back for three weeks, people were starting to think he was intentionally causing mayhem to possibly run them into the ground. Some continued to believe that he was being used as a scapegoat, while several others were under the opinion that he was trying to be a nuisance. The main cover story for him was the he'd gone on some big expedition for resources, which for many people, symbolized his greater status. Well, Shirou wasn't any higher in rank than anyone else, and the rumors that he was trying to be a menace were starting to piss him off.

Grunting softly, Shirou lifted a barrel of old, rotten apple cores, intent on taking them to the courtyard gardens to be used as fertilizer. He sighed as he made sure he had a firm grip on the object before walking down the corridor, bypassing several other servants as he went. At this point, Shirou was ready to just trace a stupid cart and roll the dumb thing all the way there, but then he'd have to explain where he'd gotten a cart and why it was made of metal. That wouldn't be a fun conversation.

Shirou had made it to the bottom of the stairwell that would open to the gardens themselves when he heard something creak just slightly. A feeling of trepidation hit him as he tried to walk into the gardens, only for the entire bottom of the barrel to fall out as soon as he reached the magical barrier. Shirou closed his eyes, counted up to ten to calm himself, and then looked down at his feet. The apple cores had fallen and rolled everywhere, and he had nothing to carry them in unless he traced something. Shirou let out a long sigh as he looked around before angrily picking up the bottom that had fallen from the barrel.

Feeling a touch of magical residue, he rotated the piece of circular wood within his hands.

"What kind of spell is this?" he muttered, growing more irritated. "It looks like it was set to fall apart the second it came into contact with any kind of other magic."

His thoughts raced through his head as he considered the implications of someone in the kitchen working together with a mage to cause problems for him. This wasn't a Dai thing – Dai wasn't a fan of magic overall, especially after Shirou had shown his type of magecraft. Dai wouldn't have gone anywhere near a mage if he could help it, excepting Valeria. Was it Telyn? Who else had a bone to pick with him? Why couldn't they just confront him in person instead of making his life miserable?

"Damn it to hell," he finally burst out, throwing the piece of wood onto the stone ground.

Shirou didn't even know what he was fighting anymore. It'd be so much easier to just leave the Camelot altogether with everything that had happened to him lately. He could save Saber some other way, like by becoming some kind of rogue outside of Camelot and attacking from the outside in. He could go into intelligence gathering and get some important information for the king that way. Hell, there were a million other ways to make his mark other than getting ostracized and turned on like an elementary schooler.

Now he had to pick up all the damn things and take them over to the station for fertilizer by hand. At least it hadn't happened somewhere else.

"I am really starting to hate everything about this time period," he muttered under his breath as he started picking up one core after another.

"What's all this?"

Shirou frowned as he looked up to see two people coming across the garden who had probably heard his explosion of anger. He found himself scowling slightly – they were the last two people he really wanted to see right now.

Guinevere looked at the mess with slightly widened eyes, a frown on her face. Next to her, King Arthur stood with her arms crossed across her chest, an unreadable expression on her face. She had obviously been the one to ask the question, and was waiting for him to reply.

"Nothing, Your Majesty," Shirou bit out, his teeth gritted. "The barrel just fell apart suddenly."

"Why must trouble follow wherever you go?" asked the king, looking somewhat irritated herself.

Guinevere sent a quick glare to her husband, who only turned her gaze away shamelessly. Shirou ignored the both of them, inwardly cursing himself for getting caught in stupid situations. Plus, he couldn't deny that he was a little aggravated that the king had never helped him out with his problem, even though, logically, he knew there was no way for her to have known.

Why aren't the jails monitored more often? How many people get stuck down there by idiots like Dai? And how is it she never even knew something like that was happening at all?

Shirou, unable to help himself, passed the king a glare, as if to blame her for all of his problems. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be here. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't have to deal with all of this crap. If it wasn't for her, he'd still be more or less safe in the confines of his own home in London, 1,500 years in the future.

He immediately squashed those thoughts and swept them out of his head. If it hadn't been for Saber, he never would have known love, not really anyway. Had it not been for her, he wouldn't have come to understand himself as much as he had. Had it not been for her, he would have still been trying to figure out why everything he traced was always some kind of failure. Had it not been for her, he wouldn't have led much of an existence and he certainly wouldn't have become such good friends with Rin at all.

Sighing softly, Shirou felt his anger slowly trickle away and continued to pick up one core after another.

"What a distasteful mess," Guinevere said, her voice soft and yet authoritative. "I am hardly of a mind to leave you to clean this up on your own. Guards!" she said, regally lifting a hand to get someone's attention.

"I've got it under control, Your Majesties," Shirou said as clearly as he could while trying to hide his irritation. "I made the mess – I should be the one to pick it up."

King Arthur nodded. "A wise ideology to follow, Shirou."

"Arthur!" the queen scolded, causing the blonde to look over at her with an eyebrow lifted, as if to say, "What?"

"If we are in a position to help, we should," Guinevere continued. "In any case, the mess is absolutely ghastly. I do not desire to look at it any longer than I absolutely must, and the boy only has two hands to work with. Must you antagonize him so?"

"I am not –" King Arthur attempted to protest before the queen quelled her with a single glare.

The king masked her grimace smoothly before calling over a guard herself, thereby swiftly putting a smile back on her wife's face.

"I said, I've got it, Your Majesties," Shirou stated again, finding himself unable to handle his irritation.

Yes, it would take him some time, but he could carry everything over on his own. He didn't need any help, and it wouldn't take more than a few minutes. The two of them could simply ignore him and once he finished, he'd just leave without another word. The fact that the queen felt the need to call over guards to assist him with such a simple task only reminded him of how useless he currently was. Damn it, he could do this much. Why was everything trying to give him such a hard time lately?

King Arthur chose not to reply and only looked back at the redhead with a frown, although Guinevere was much less subtle about her disapproval. She glanced at Arthur who only looked back at her unwaveringly.

"Shirou," began Guinevere. "You should not refuse help so freely given."

"I've got it, I said," he repeated for the last time, his muscles tensing. "Your Majesties, I will have this taken care of and will be out of your way as soon as possible."

Guinevere looked ready to argue again, but King Arthur held up a hand, her green eyes dead set on Shirou.

"Leave us," she said, not disguising her command.

The queen cast one last glance at the tense redhead before walking away, and ordering for the guards to retake their posts. King Arthur never took her eyes off of Shirou as the man rose up to take an armful of cores to the dumping spot before walking back to grab at more. He tried to ignore that she was still standing there as he went about his business. She never opened her mouth once as he made several trips back and forth until he finally finished and made as if to leave.

"Hold, Shirou," the king ordered, freezing Shirou in his tracks.

"Your recent words leave much to be desired," she continued when Shirou turned around to look at her. "That attitude is reprehensible. I demand an apology for both your attitude and mannerisms."

Shirou clenched his fists tightly before forcibly bowing his head. "Many pardons, Your Majesty. I should not have conducted myself in such a fashion."

"Accepted. Now, explain yourself."

"I don't know what you mean," Shirou tried to say, and only received a cool stare back from the blonde.

Grimacing, Shirou's shoulders slumped slightly as he tried to come up with an explanation that would satisfy her. He couldn't think of a single thing that didn't have to do with blaming her for her absence or blaming a crazy mage who had tried to kill him and then had stuck him into a jail cell for a month. He could point out that someone was making trouble for him in the kitchen, but that wouldn't have done much either. Eventually, he just said,

"Life's been stressful lately, sir."

She was obviously less than impressed with the answer. "As it has been for everyone, most assuredly. I must say that I am concerned by how different you are now than from before when we last spoke. When was that.. Ah, yes. After the storm, some months prior. Dare I say that you are far less, hmm, what's the word? Optimistic, perhaps, than you were before."

There was no comparison. The only thing he'd had to worry about before was getting along well in the kitchens, but now he had to worry about everyone trying to kill him. Maybe it would be better to just leave Camelot.

"Let's just say it's been a wild few months," Shirou murmured.

King Arthur narrowed her eyes. "How fared your trip?"

"What trip?" Shirou automatically replied before realizing what he'd said.

The king's eyes narrowed further as she saw him take a couple of steps back and try to correct his wording.

"I mean," Shirou started. "It was...uh, great. Saw lots of new things, plenty of new sights. Was kind of stressful."

"Shirou," she warned, her hands falling to her sides.

"It was fine," he reinforced, bowing quickly. "You can expect much higher quality food for your meals, Your Majesty. Now, if you'll allow me to take my leave..."

"If you must," she said, her eyes never leaving his form as he bowed again, scooped up the broken pieces of the barrel and quickly left the gardens.

Percival's intuition was indeed correct, it would seem, she thought to herself. There is a rank smell of foul play here.

Percival had come back to her regardless of her desire to stay out of the situation, informing her of her supposed ruling concerning Shirou. It incensed her to no small degree that someone was making claims in her name, but she was also concerned that whatever was happening was causing further estrangement between her and her servants. She didn't know what had occurred, or how to see to it without physically entering the lion's den for herself. She was also irritated that every problem seemed to be centering around the one person she'd sought to save.

As she once again reached Guinevere's side and sat down next to her for a small moment of respite, she frowned inwardly when she realized that something needed to be done about Shirou, and soon. What was it she could possibly do without seeming too forward or unlike herself, though?

This will require much consideration, she thought, nodding as Guinevere spoke about a specific flower that had taken her interest. What will I find if I disturb this considerably large hornet's nest, and who will survive the line of destruction left in its wake should I do so?

It was a heavy knock at her office door that brought her out of her musings one day. Arturia lightly set her quill back into its ink pot before beckoning in her visitor. As she dragged a piece of parchment off of the large stack of papers assigned to her for the day, she skimmed over the contents. She pointedly ignored the loud thump of someone sitting in one of the chairs across from her desk, and further ignored the loud yawn that ensued seconds later.

"Late night, I take it?" she murmured, her hand reaching for the seal that she now kept under close lock and key, with the key going wherever she did, no matter what.

"What's wrong with assigning a day off or two here or there, sibling?" replied an annoyed voice.

She didn't bother to react, only shifting her current paper to the 'accepted' stack and moving on to her next piece of paper. "If you found any value in retiring early for once instead of constantly frolicking with the servant women, Kay, I'm certain you wouldn't have much of an issue to speak of."

Kay leaned forward, his eyes focused on her. "You simply do not understand the meaning of freedom, dear brother. Why, if you could only understand the appeal of all the women to behold! What a life you would live!"

"Yes," she answered dryly. "If only I understood how wonderful women were."

The two shared a look before Kay cleared his throat. "Guinevere is indeed a woman to stare at with awe, but think of all of the other fish to be found in the sea!"

Arturia wrote out a quick note on the bottom of the paper before placing it in the 'declined' stack. "Fish are for eating, Kay, and I am not particularly interested."

"Do not rain on my parade, brother," Kay muttered. "Someday, you too will realize the magnificence of the opposite sex. And you will present me with billions of babies to love, care for, and promptly give back to you once I am finished."

"They aren't toys to be thrown away at your every whim," she retorted, no longer able to concentrate on her work. "And you know as well as I do that such an event will not ever take place."

Kay gasped and leaned forward. "Are you sterile, brother?"

The look she pinned him with had him leaning back laughing. "Oh, you are a piece of work, Arthur!"

"There are times when I can honestly say I hate you," Arturia said, her glare shifting to the paper in front of her. "It is too early for such commentary, Kay. I have no desire to plan your demise on an empty stomach."

"You wound me, my brother!" Kay groaned, a hand raising to his chest over where his heart was. "Do you mean to say you would be more apt to plan for my death once your stomach is full and sated?"

"If I say yes, will you leave me to my work?" she asked with a frown.

Kay snorted. "Of course not. Were it not for me popping in every now and then, you would never find the time to eat. For all that you're puttering around trying to keep order, you do not eat enough for all of that energy you are always expelling."

Arturia marked off a few words on another parchment before sticking it in the 'declined' stack as well. "Avalon allows that I –"

"– Survive whether you eat or not," finished Kay. "Yes, I'm aware. That is the same thing you say every morning I come to retrieve you."

"Ah, yes," she continued in just as dry a tone as ever. "You never were capable of taking a hint. The leading reason as to why you can never settle down, I'd imagine."

Kay smirked before all trace of humor left his expression. "Seriously, though. It's time for breakfast. I'll allow you one more parchment to check, but after that, we are heading to the Great Hall."

Arturia looked up from her current parchment and frowned at him again. As soon as her hand stamped the seal down on the parchment and she placed it back into its confines, Kay caught hold of her wrist, pulling her up from her seat. She glared at him, a gesture he returned easily.

"Kay, if you'll just allow me another minute, then –"

"You're a workaholic, that's what you are," he chastised her, and she grunted in return. "The paperwork will still be here when you come back."

"Yes, along with five hundred more to sift through," she retorted quietly, but obediently took the key from around her neck, locked the seal within its case attached to her desk, and put the key back around her neck.

Kay dragged her up to the door, and eyed her until she left the room under her own volition. She nodded her head slightly at the two guards right outside of her room before passing her brother another glare, which he happily ignored.

"Honestly, Kay, why do you insist on such force every single time?" she asked, quickly smoothing down her formal blue robes.

She hadn't any plans to leave the castle or venture to the training field today, so only wore her high-quality material, collared blue tunic alongside of her blue breeches and thick, black leather boots. The sash she wore for a belt sparkled with small gems along its trim. It was a simple outfit, but the crown upon her head made it seem rather impressive and overwhelming to the average rank-and-file servant.

"Had you any common sense, I wouldn't need to bother," Kay argued.

"What rudeness you show to your king," Arturia grumbled.

Kay smirked at her again. "I guarantee that if you'd had to change your own diapers, that you wouldn't feel as high and mighty as you seem to right about now."

Color ran across her cheeks as she stared at Kay with horror. "You said we would never speak of this again!"

"No, brother. You said we would never speak of it again. I rather remember those times fondly."

Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out as the two of them came out of the stairwell together. She probably might have said something in an effort to relieve her of her embarrassment had her steward not decided to make his presence known as soon as they'd taken a few steps down the corridor.

The humor drained from both Arturia's and Kay's faces, the moment they shared vanishing as they adopted their more serious countenances. Arturia looked at Dylan with a quick sweep of her eyes.

Dylan bowed deeply. "Your Majesty and Sir Kay. Allow me to guide the both of you to the Great Hall."

Arturia barely nodded her head, which the steward took to mean for him to lead on. He scampered on a few steps ahead to give the two space, and Arturia kept her gaze on him all the while, readily settling back into her kingly mannerisms. Kay walked right next to her, slowing his own pace to keep in step with the smaller king.

"I heard the report about our little prisoner," Kay said, opening up a new line of conversation, something Arturia very much appreciated. "Tristan was frustrated by how little information was obtained, though we do know for a fact that he was operating under Conan's orders."

"Was that ever considered for debate in the first place?" she rhetorically asked back. "Of course it was Conan. The last thing anyone needs is for another fool to attempt to rise up for his so-called ideals and what he thinks would most benefit the kingdom."

Kay cracked his neck as he tilted it from side to side. "Let's address the elephant in the room and point out how you defined the exact same thing you are attempting to do. The only difference is that you hold the crown."

Arturia stifled a growl. She was very tired of this conversation.

"I would never seek to pillage villages, light them afire, and take every single woman for myself while conforming the children to follow my ideology."

"Perhaps not," argued Kay. "But you do raze villages to the ground in so simple a manner as taking every single resource they have, draining them dry. You are essentially leaving them to their deaths. The men are forced to take up arms for your name or die, which inevitably leads children to believing they must do so as well. You are correct about one thing though: we do not rape the women. They simply become courtesans for the castle, and they would be a part of your harem, were you interested in such."

"Which, I am not," Arturia ground out. "This conversation is finished."

"I am just saying –"

"Yes," she managed to say while withholding her anger, "and now you are finished, the exact same as the current conversation."

Kay looked down at her, noticing her clenched fists. "Every action has its repercussions, Arthur."

Don't I know it, she thought to herself as they finally reached the Great Hall. If you only truly knew how far I've come, Kay.

The first person she noticed at the long table was Guinevere, who she regarded kindly. Guinevere smiled warmly back from her side at the other end, her violet eyes looking over every part of her husband as the latter sat in her seat. Both women looked at Tristan as the man let out a loud yawn before flopping his head back onto the table.

"Good morning, Tristan," Guinevere said, watching the man turn to eye her before flopping back down.

"G'mornin', Queen Guinevere," he responded with little enthusiasm. "Though whether the morning truly is a good one is something I couldn't confidently say, as I've seen very few of those lately."

Arturia piqued an eyebrow. "I take it that you are referring to the prisoner?"

She heard him let out a groan. "No, Sire. Lancelot has long since finished picking that infidel's puny mind. He is worthless. I have simply been busy filling out all of the paperwork required of me since."

"Ah," she replied, cupping her mouth to hide a smile. "A knight's work is never finished, yes?"

He suddenly slammed his hands against the tabletop as he pointed insinuatingly at the king. "You! Your Majesty, you planned this, didn't you? I was wondering why you did not argue the matter of interrogation. You knew very well how much would need to be done after said fact, didn't you? Was that your plan the entire time?"

Arturia tilted her head in reply, making Tristan visibly grow more ticked off. Lancelot noticed that she hadn't answered and made a small smile himself.

"You see now, Tristan," he said, "this is absolutely why I chose not to say anything in regards to this matter."

Tristan turned his glare to Lancelot. "You're part of the problem, damn it! What kind of man abandons another to a mountain of paperwork? What happened to camaraderie and friendship?"

Lancelot tilted his head similarly to how their king had, intentionally causing Tristan to nearly burst a fuse. "I am not fond of paperwork."

"AH! I hate the whole lot of you!"

Lancelot and Arturia shared a glance of amusement before looking back at Tristan, and tilting their heads just slightly. Tristan banged a fist against the table this time.

"Stop that! Stop making it seem as if you're both so much better than I am!"

At that, Arturia lifted her chin slightly, just enough that Tristan realized what he said before plopping back down in his chair and sighing. All five of them, excepting Arturia who simply closed her eyes, looked back towards the door when Gawain, Gareth, Bedivere, and Percival made their grand entrance. Bedivere and Percival, like usual, were bickering about one thing or another while Gawain and Gareth simply looked on with amusement. As the four took their seats, Arturia leaned forward slowly, greeting each and every single one of them.

"Let us see," started Arturia, inwardly counting heads, "as Geraint, Galahad, Bors, and Lamorak are still out fulfilling missions assigned them, I believe we are all in attendance. Are there any announcements any would like to declare before we break our fast?"

After only hearing the small grumbles of Tristan as he continued muttering to himself, she nodded her head.

"Then let our morning feast commence."

She caught the eyes of the servants waiting awkwardly to the side and nodded her head slightly. Almost as if a switch had been flipped, she saw them jump into action, many heading back into the kitchen before coming out a short while later, their hands holding bowls of fruits and bread to tide the knights, king, and queen over until the real dishes were ready to be delivered. And, as with every morning where she had the time to dine with her knights, Baeddan walked out to give her his greeting, his pace slow and steady.

She acknowledged him by making eye contact, and nothing further than that.

"Your Majesty," he greeted with a bow. "As always, it is a pleasure to feed you the efforts of our work."

"You grace me with your well-prepared menu. I look forward to what you have planned for all of us this day."

Guinevere didn't bother saying a word when she saw the two trade niceties, knowing full well that the one could die off right then and there with the other not caring a single bit. She saw Arturia glance back at her briefly and turned her attention instead to Gawain who sat nearest her. The man smiled at her, genuinely happy to participate in a conversation with her. Percival jumped in immediately, his ever-amusing antics delighting the other two quickly.

Gareth and Lancelot began conversing with one another while Bedivere, Tristan, and Kay traded insults with one another as if it was just a normal, everyday thing to behold. Every so often, one could hear Tristan bang on the table out of irritation and Kay laugh just to mess with the younger man even more, but this was hardly anything out of the ordinary.

" – servants that you have?"

"I am always looking for more outstanding workers to attend to the kitchens."

Her good mood gone, Arturia just stared at the taller man. "I cannot even have a moment to eat without you beginning such a conversation? How many people must I find for you to be appeased, Baeddan?"

Baeddan cocked a smirk at her. "For every single man, there should be at least three cooks to prepare for him. You do the math, Your Majesty. I'm certain you are capable of that much?"

"I am not hunting down that many people just so your ego can inflate even further."

"Hmph. How typically rude of you to say. My ego is substantial enough as is. It need not grow further – you would not be able to handle how incredible I might become."

Truer words, Arturia thought to herself. "Regardless, you have enough servants to last you for the time being. How fares the kitchen otherwise, Head Cook?"

She saw him hesitate before confidently saying, "The kitchen, Your Majesty? But, of course, it is incomparable with how uniformed and orthodox it is. Rather, you could say we haven't a single problem to boast of – no other kingdom could ever –"

Baeddan cut off abruptly when he, all of the knights and royalty, and all of those serving them, heard a loud crash erupt in the kitchen. Her eyes darted over to look at the doors leading to where the incident had occurred before looking back at Baeddan with a frown. He had closed his eyes, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he reined in his temper.

"What was that?" she asked flatly.

Baeddan sighed irritably, gaining everyone's attention immediately. "I may have embellished our current status somewhat, Your Majesty..."

"Explain."

"We have had some, or rather, a number of mishaps occur over the past couple of months, Sire."

She felt both her eyebrows rise from surprise. Baeddan, if nothing else, was quite adept at keeping accidents to a minimum, so it was most certainly surprising to hear that something wayward was taking place under his very command. That, more than anything, had sparked her curiosity.

"What's the problem?" she asked, unable to help herself. "Is it something that needs to be addressed immediately?"

Baeddan hesitated yet again, causing her to wonder what in the world was going on.

"Not 'what', Your Majesty," Baeddan finally admitted. "More of a 'who', Sire."

A bad feeling crept through Arturia's heart when she heard that, and she wearily asked what individual was causing so many problems.

"Ro, Your Majesty. I mean, Shirou."

Of course it was. Well, as she had thought before, something about the foreigner needed to be done, and it seemed the time to do it was here and now.

"I see," she clipped out, her voice growing colder.

Baeddan, however, didn't seem ready to let the matter drop. "However, Your Majesty," he started, regaining her attention, "there is much about the recent incidents that does not seem to add up. If I may, I do not think Shirou is at the heart of any of them."

Kay snorted. "What does it matter? Every problem leads up to him, doesn't it? Get rid of him."

Percival chose to interject at this point. "Shirou is a decent cook! He makes food that would satisfy God himself! Getting rid of him would only sign our losses!"

"Yeah, but if he's only causing trouble," Kay trailed off, with a shrug of his shoulders.

Gawain stayed silent on the issue, but Bedivere had no problems saying, "The man can cook. Even I recognize that. He is worth little else – we would have little use of him, otherwise."

Arturia cleared her throat, forcing everyone in attendance to fall silent.

"Bring him to me."

Baeddan frowned. "Your Majesty..."

"Bring, him, to, me," she repeated, her words still clipped.

The cook nodded and left to disappear within the kitchen. Moments later, a Shirou with ash covering the lower half of his breeches and a deep frown marking his face walked out, tired eyes immediately seeking out the king's as she looked at him. She took in his appearance before looking at him with hardened eyes.

"We meet again, Shirou."

Shirou looked away from her momentarily before he nodded in agreement. "Your Majesty," he murmured.

Her fingers laced together as she looked at him. "I hear that there have been incidents in the kitchen, with you at the heart of the matter."

When he stiffened and a shadow fell over his eyes as he glared at the ground, she tilted her head. "I believe that you promised me months ago that you would not cause me anymore undue trouble, Shirou."

His fists clenched tightly. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"And yet, here we are."

Shirou slowly raised his gaze to look at her, a gaze she met unflinchingly. He gritted his teeth before confiding, "None of those accidents were my fault. I've done nothing wrong."

Arturia continued to stare at him before looking away. "I am concerned. Do you hold worth within the kitchen, or did I make a mistake placing you there?"

She could almost feel the anger emanate off of him. Shirou made a slight sound of irritation as he answered,

"No. I am a good cook. I am the best cook you will have ever met."

She noticed Bedivere start at that, and turned her attention to him instead. Bedivere locked gazes with her.

"That's the same thing he said when we had the unfortunate circumstance of meeting the first time, Sire."

"Of course," she replied before turning back to Shirou. He eyed her warily.

"You have one last chance," Arturia eventually said. "Prove to me your worth."

Shirou very nearly forgot his anger as he looked back at her with some confusion. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"

Arturia pushed away every item of food near her and gestured to the space in front of her. Shirou frowned again as he looked back from the table to her again, still not understanding what she wanted from him. She waved slightly for a sinewy, little man to come forward and attend to her.

"When is my next meeting?" she asked, ignoring Shirou for the moment.

The squirrely man looked down at the parchment in his hands. "Not for another three hours, my liege."

She turned back to look at Shirou. "That leaves you with the time limit of one. You have one hour to prove your worth to me by making a suitable dish to my liking. Should you fail, I will then decide your punishment right then and there, even should that mean I must kill you for wasting my time and patience. Should you succeed, there will be other options available for you, I am certain."

Shirou seemed taken aback. "O-one hour? But, that's..."

"Fifty-nine minutes, fifty-four seconds remaining, Shirou," she said calmly, closing her eyes and effectively ending the discussion.

Shirou stared at her for another few seconds before backing away, bowing, and quickly heading to the kitchen, with Baeddan right behind him. As Shirou dodged around people to randomly pull ingredients out of barrels and off of the shelf, Baeddan glared at everyone in the kitchen, announcing,

"Ro will be making a dish for His Majesty himself! For one hour, no one is to interfere with this man's work. Ro, you may have three people work alongside you. Who do you request?"

"I only want Eos and you cooking with me," Shirou stated hurriedly, already pulling a couple of full, skinned, raw chickens out of a vat and slapping them on a table. "Zago, make sure the tables are clear for prep, and I need you to get me some ham, flour, butter, wine, some cream. Eos, I need you to start on a decent-sized Caesar salad – make sure to fry up the bread pieces for some croutons to throw on top. For the vegetables, lettuce, carrots, onions, a few olives, and maybe some radish should be enough. While the chicken is cooking, I can help you create decent dressing to go with it."

Zago sputtered. "Wine? What are you going to use wine for? What is all that mess going to do?"

Eos glared at him, already walking past several other servants to reach the area where the vegetables were aligned. "Do not complain, Dagobert. Retrieve what he has requested."

The blond merely frowned, but left the kitchen to go to the stockroom for the supplies. Baeddan watched him go before looking at Shirou. "What would you have me do?"

The redhead spared him a glance as he finished cutting off the breasts of each chicken, leaving the rest on the table to be used for something else. As he began to pound on each piece to thin them out, he said harshly,

"Start the process for creating some cabbage wraps – wash the cabbage and start mincing some of the beef cuts while adding a liberal portion of salt, some vinegar, black pepper, a bit of ginger, some garlic, and a dash of rosemary for extra flavoring."

Baeddan was with him up until he listed out some seasonings. "Ginger? Garlic? Rosemary? I do not know these words, Ro."

Shirou stared at him for a second. "What the hell do you mean you don't... Fine, whatever. Salt. Vinegar. Black pepper. Use those. Dice up some pickles, too."

"...Pickles?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Shirou yelled out, glaring at Baeddan. "Are you kidding me right now? Salt! Vinegar! Black pepper! That's it! Get those!"

Zago came back into the kitchen and dumped some ingredients onto the table next to Shirou. He barely managed a nod before Zago disappeared again to hunt down the rest of the items. Shirou picked up one edge of the piece he'd beaten down before quickly turning to see the large chunk of cheese next to him.

Damn it, of course they wouldn't have Swiss cheese here, he thought with some irritation as he moved away to rinse his hands in water before coming back.

Shirou grabbed a knife and sliced straight through the cheese as evenly as he could manage. He then cut each slice in half and laid them over each piece of chicken breast. Turning his attention next to the large slab of ham on the table, he grimaced and worked at cutting that as thinly as he possibly could. It didn't work as well as he might've liked, but that was neither here nor there. As soon as he was finished, he moved on to work with the flour and shook his head when he realized he had very little to season it with.

"Zago," he called when the other man came back with some cream – he'd apparently run all the way to where they kept the cows because he was breathing in and out hard, "get me some lard."

"Lard, too?" Zago asked breathlessly before rolling his eyes and running back out the door, barely avoiding crashing into another servant as he did.

Eos looked at him from where she stood, asking, "Shirou, the salad is prepared. You spoke of some kind of dressing of some kind?"

"Hang on," he replied, thinking quickly. No olive oil. No easy bases to use. No buttermilk, so ranch dressing's out. I hate to use so much wine, but that might be easiest, and it will barely take any time at all. Ah, but shit, red wine vinaigrette needs olive oil, too, damn it.

He eyed the lard that Zago just brought in. Can I boil that down to use as a base? No. Fuck it – it's not conventional, but I'll just do a lemon pepper and butter spread and call it a day.

"Use some of this butter, melt it down and mix it with some squeezed lemon juice and black pepper. That'll have to do."

She nodded and Baeddan turned to Shirou. "The ingredients are ready. How would you like them cooked?"

"Brown them," Shirou replied immediately. "Mix the minced beef together with the salt, vinegar, and pepper until it's browned. Just browned, not burnt crisp."

Baeddan made a small scoffing sound before moving to the stoves. Shirou ignored him and took the floured chicken over to the stove himself and first threw in a small chunk of butter, letting it crackle before he neatly placed in each chicken piece. As soon as the chicken was browned, Shirou added some wine and little pieces of lard. He then closed the slats underneath the pan so only a little heat could slip through before throwing on another pan over the first as a lid to cover it.

Sighing and wishing he had the nice, modern kitchen he and Rin had shared in the future, Shirou turned back around to see Eos smiling at him, her part of the meal completely prepared. Baeddan just sniffed as he began wrapping the meat within the cabbage leaves. One servant popped into the kitchen, murmuring,

"The king has announced that you have just twenty minutes left."

Shirou crossed his arms over his chest, casting a quick glance back at the chicken, hoping it would finish cooking in time. He'd made each piece as thin as he could but there was no telling if he would make it in time. In the meantime, he had to use that cream. He walked back to the table and grabbed the cream and a bit more flour, stirring them together until they thickened. After that, he just looked at both Baeddan and Eos, who both just stared back steadily at him. Zago stared at the concoction Shirou had mixed together, his curiosity so great that he reached a finger out to grab a dab of it. Shirou slapped his hand away, glaring at the blond until the man backed away, hands raised.

"Five minutes remaining, the king has announced."

Shirou jumped into action, pulling the pan off of the stove and calling out for Zago to get him a plate. As soon as Zago put down a serving dish, Shirou grabbed a fork and wrestled each piece of chicken off of the pan and onto the plate before giving the pan to Zago and pulling his cream mixture towards him. Shirou slowly spread the mix across the chicken after mixing it together a bit more before setting the cup down. With a deep sigh, Shirou nodded at Baeddan and Eos.

"This is your dish, Ro," Baeddan informed him. "We cannot help you serve it."

"I figured," Shirou replied, carefully placing the plate of chicken on his right upper arm, putting the bowl f salad in his right hand, and taking the other dish full of cabbage wraps in his left hand.

The servants watched with surprise and some skepticism as Shirou walked away, everything balanced precariously on his person. Shirou nearly made it to the door when he caught the gazes of Telyn and Dai looking at him. He paused, gave them his fiercest glare, and then continued to walk out of the kitchen. He noticed many of the knights glance up with curiosity over what he was carrying, but the king didn't even raise her head. She merely continued to wait, her eyes closed.

Shirou walked up to her and bowed his head. "Your Majesty."

King Arthur slowly opened her eyes. "Twelve seconds remaining. You certainly know how to run it close."

He cleared his throat and first put down the cabbage wraps, and then the salad, and then the main dish.

"Your Majesty, may I present to you my dish?"

"Get on with it then," she commanded, frowning.

"Uh, first," he said with some hesitance at seeing her in a bad mood, "the salad with lettuce, carrots, onions, and olives, complete with a dressing of lemon-butter-and-pepper. Next, there are the cabbage wraps filled with seasoned beef to accompany your main dish of cordon-bleu chicken, light brown and simmered for extra flavor."

He paused when he saw her narrow her eyes at him. Unsure of what he'd done wrong, Shirou looked around for help, and noticed Baeddan motion him back. Shirou turned back to look at her, saw she hadn't begun eating yet, quickly bowed, and then moved back to where Baeddan was standing. Only then did the king pick up her utensils and cut into the chicken first.

Shirou saw the knights stand up and crowd around her, with the queen simply looking on in interest from her end. With the knights around her, Shirou couldn't see her reaction, and so just resigned himself to waiting until she was finished. About ten minutes later, he saw the knights disperse from around her.

"Shirou," she called out softly, and he quickly rushed to her side.

When he arrived at the table, he found each plate immaculately clean, save for one piece of chicken breast. Had it not been so like what Saber had always done, his jaw probably would've dropped from disbelief. Then again, seeing how his sister had always eaten, he wondered why he was even surprised anymore. He just hoped the king didn't want seconds.

King Arthur glanced at him, her gaze not nearly so cold anymore.

"I am pleased to see that I did not make a mistake with assigning you to the kitchen, Shirou," she finally said. "But, now I wonder what shall be done with you. Baeddan."

When Baeddan appeared next to Shirou, she asked, "Be honest with me, Baeddan. Is it possible to keep Shirou within the kitchen, despite these mysterious incidents that continue to occur?"

As much as Baeddan wanted to say yes, she had asked him to be honest. "I would much like for him to stay, but unfortunately, unless I can pin down the fools causing all of the problems, we will only continue to have issues."

"As I thought," King Arthur eventually agreed. "Which leaves me with quite the conundrum of what is to be done with you, Shirou."

Shirou's hands clenched into fists. "Am...I to be punished, Your Majesty?"

She looked at him momentarily before shaking her head slightly. "No, you have proven your worth. I have a few options available to you, and you must make your decision immediately. First: I give you the right to instead switch to a different vocation and work quietly there. Second: you may instead leave the castle and live an existence in the village instead. I will see to it that you are given housing and that someone initially guides you through life outside of the castle. Third: I will give you permission to leave Camelot altogether and find dwelling elsewhere. These are your options – to which are you most partial?"

Shirou's expression darkened. No matter what, he was being chucked out of the kitchen thanks to something that had never been his fault. What had he done to deserve any of this?

He started when Percival appeared next to him, eyeing the last piece of chicken. Percival looked at the king pleadingly before she sighed and waved him to do as he wished.

"Share," she ordered, much to Percival's displeasure.

Percival looked at the other knights, who seemed as intrigued in the dish as him. In the end, with the queen garnering for a taste as well, he only managed to snag a bite, sighing with joy as his taste buds danced within his mouth. Shirou spared him a smile when the brunet slapped him on the back.

"I say, Shirou!" exclaimed Percival happily. "You have a gift from the Heavens above. What say you about becoming a personal chef of mine instead of leaving Camelot? I will make sure you are comfortable and do not have to worry about any of the little things any further."

King Arthur peered at Percival with wonder before a thought clicked in her head.

"Denied," she deadpanned, causing Percival to flinch back. She turned to look at Shirou. "I, however, will extend the same invitation for you to become my personal cook instead. What will your choice be, out of those four?"

"What?" cried Percival. "That was my idea, Your Majesty! How can you be so cruel?"

She spared him a frown. "He would be a cook, nothing more. Not your maid, not someone to test out your wily ways upon, just a chef. I doubt it need be said that you wouldn't hesitate to use him for other things as well. I am simply saving him that effort."

"That's not fair!" Percival continued to complain.

"Life seldom is," she replied flatly.

Kay nodded from where he sat. "Actually, that's a good idea. Having someone attend to the king's stomach instead of me having to go retrieve him all the time to make sure he eats sounds like a very good cause. Would certainly free up my time."

Bedivere shrugged. "I have no complaints. The king would simply kill him if he ever got out of hand."

Gawain again stayed silent, though he did share a small smile with Shirou, but Gareth slapped the table. "No! Who is this person? How can we be certain he will not simply try to poison the king?"

"Hush, puppy," Kay retorted. "What on earth could poison the king that Avalon could not somehow do away with given time? Besides, our king could still simply kill him – it wouldn't take much."

"I am against this solution!" Gareth continued to shout. "How can we allow some foreigner to assist to the needs of our fair king?"

Tristan snorted. "Who the hell cares. The guy can cook. The king needs to eat. The king can't die. I don't see a problem with it."

Gareth reeled back. "But what of the dire consequences of being seen as weak for letting a Scot take the reins on our great king's meals?"

"Now, now, Gareth," Guinevere calmly interjected. "I am certain Arthur knows what he is doing. If something terrible happens, we will act then. For now, it is simply a solution to save this poor man. What say you, Lancelot?"

The aforementioned man merely looked at Shirou, who looked right back. "I am not of a mind to care. Let His Majesty do what he must."

"But that's – !" continued Gareth before Kay shushed him again.

"Down, puppy."

"I am not a puppy, Sir Kay!"

"Bad puppy, stop barking. Good boy."

Gareth continued to glower at Kay who was content to ignore him. Percival was still put out from having his idea stolen.

"You're such a fiend, Your Majesty," he mumbled with a pout. "I wanted Shirou..."

"So, your reply, Shirou?" King Arthur said, taking a page out of Kay's book and ignoring the pouting Percival.

Shirou looked down at the ground as he thought about his decision. He had a chance to get close to the king and possibly change some things around if he took this chance, but he was still wondering whether he should just join the military and start making a name for himself that way. Or, better yet, if he left the castle, or even Camelot altogether, he might have a chance to get at the people who were causing so many problems around Britain. And, if he was away from the castle, he'd probably have the opportunity to use his magecraft and take care of a lot of people in one fell swoop. He could also take up arms against the Saxons and delay their march in on the British isles, and maybe help out the king in that manner. There was so much more he could do away from the castle, so much more he could accomplish.

With a slow exhale of breath, Shirou lifted his head, his gaze determined.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I've made my decision."

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand that's a wrap. Thank you for reading through all of Arc 1. May you be back around for Arc 2. As usual, let me know what you think. :)