Zayd dropped in sometime during the week, scaring the bloody hell out of Sir Kay. So much so, that he grabbed him by the back of his shirt and nearly threw him out the balcony. Arturia was certain the acrobatic assassin would have survived, but it was twenty-five stories, anything could happen.

"Don't worry that pretty blonde head of yours! We're...recovering! That, I believe, is the right word for it, King of Knights," the assassin said oddly cheerfully, taking a long sip of earl grey. He was one of the few personalities who enjoyed tea leaves, as he told Arturia.

There were sixty-one of them now. A newcomer had sprung into existence a few days after their return, here in Fuyuki together with Zhavia and Zinaq, the large assassin Saber met on the field. And then there was this little one, Arturia noted, as she passed the small girl a few slices of watermelon. The child couldn't have been more than ten, and she was yet to tell either of the servants her name.

"Are you amenable to meeting during the weekend then?" she asked.

It was a bit ridiculous, to now be sharing tea with arguably the most versatile stealth killer in all history, or, at least, one part of them. Zayd told her all about themself, the greater whole that was the Hundred-Faced Hassan, and how every single manifestation had their own purpose and expertise. Zayd's personal talent was accomplishing feats that required extreme acrobatic skill and flexibility, as he so generously demonstrated by dislocating all his bones and contorting himself into a human cube small enough Saber could stuff him in a duffel.

If they were a dictionary, he explained as he picked up the pocket book from the coffee table, losing one of them was like pulling out an entire section of pages. One would still be left with a lot of knowledge, but, like having section A through B missing, there was a definite gap.

They were different and the same all at once, according to their own understanding. Although they were all linked, it was as if each had a mind of their own, making it possible for Hundred-Faced to converse with themself and learn new things. Arturia would describe them most closely as cousins, for after seeing some of their faces, she could infer they looked similar enough to be related, but not too closely. If there was a feature they shared, it would be those rather ethereal looking eyes. Looking at Zayd and the little girl with him right now, they were definitely the same orbs.

"Reasonable, anisa~, " he replied. "More likely than not, it'll just be me anyway. Just good old Zayd."

"Arty, Merlin called. Said he was expecting you today?" Kay called from the other room, poking his head out into the doorway.

Arturia looked up to the trusty wall clock, finding a mere thirty minutes before ten. She'd best be on her way soon.

The other servant also took that as his cue to take off. He thanked his hosts, pressed his palms together in apology to the still irritated Kay and made for the door. Zayd knelt in front of the little girl and let her onto his back as he bid the knight farewell.

"Oh, and before I forget—"

"No pork," she interrupted, much to Zayd's surprise. "Worry not," Arturia said, already on her way back to her room to change.

Zayd looked at the innocent child personality on his shoulder, and flexibly reached back over his head to pat hers.

"This woman's a good one, no?"


A playfully butchered and prolonged calling of her name echoed throughout RTK's entire floor, in the sickly-sweet intonation that could only belong to Merlin. That was Arturia's single warning before the mage of flowers crashed into her a mere foot out of the elevator.

"M-Merlin!" she chastised, struggling to absolve of the rather bone-crushing embrace she was given to no avail. A blink, and she was seated in front of a mirror, her perfect braided bun lopsided and her pressed shirt ruined.

The wizard didn't seem to care much of her protests as he removed her ribbon and combed her blonde locks. He, of course, had a hand in making them as smooth and soft as they were. Merlin was never a fan of her mother's chestnut hair, nor was he of Uther's inky black tresses. So he was quite pleased when the prana he infused Arturia with gave her this light color. Of course, it also turned her once blue eyes a messy green, but all was well.

Looping her hair and side bangs into a ponytail he moved to inspect his handiwork. Arturia was rather pink in the cheeks— adorable! — so he lightly took her face in his palms and gave her a kiss on the nose. Oh, he was so excited, he could feel his incubus blood practically quaking! It took him barely five minutes on a neutral make-up (she didn't need much, of course, he would know,) and an extra one on a perfect peachy pink lip and she was ready.

What should they do first? The swimsuits? Oh , wouldn't that be nice? But then— no, they had to do summer casual. It was so hot these day, curse humanity and global warming—WAIT.

The wizard finally ceased his flurry midstep, oblivious to the bewildered and slightly annoyed Arturia who had been calling his attention for the last five minutes. Thanks to his clairvoyance, he knew the king of knights was close to storming out of the tower if he didn't respond to her soon but ah, there was just too much to think about. At her current skill level, Arturia probably wouldn't be very good at showing off swimsuits now would she. Bah, well, they could do swimsuits with her next year. And also, their current line for summer casual was a bit too frilly and girly for Arturia's taste. They were coming up with a new one to release a bit later on before the season ended, but for the meantime…

"Yes, princess?"

Arturia glared at him, knowing his special eyes knew her discomfort and decided to ignore her anyway, but she looked back at herself in the mirror, unsure. Whatever magic Merlin had done to her face was almost unbelievable. Her skin looked so smooth, like porcelain, and the little lines beneath her eyes were near invisible. Although she was still quite pale-looking, the added blush to her cheeks made her feel just a little bit like Guinevere, when the latter would pinch her cheeks and bite her lips to give them some added color.

"You're certain this is alright, wizard?" she asked, mindful of the alluring women she'd seen on this time's plentiful media. Arturia was so sure she wasn't like them, with their long legs and tanned skin, their beautiful pearly whites and luscious locks. She would never be like that.

All was quiet as Merlin stopped, the usual playful smirk that was ever-present on his face flickering away for a somber second. He couldn't believe he forgot. The wizard walked back to his king, the only one really worthy of all his service, especially after all he'd done to her. Arturia…

He placed his palms on her cheeks and pressed his forehead to hers, smiling as he made eye contact. "If only you could see what I do, my king," he said softly, with as much love as his incubus heart could muster. Just as quickly, the wizard pulled away, and came back with a beautiful beige suit. A tanned woman was with him, carrying a black shoebox.

"That room will be your dressing room alright? Maria here will bring the rest of the outfits while we shoot this one. We need to get you used to the camera," Merlin said, exiting the room quietly. He did say that this was another private shoot, so it would be just the wizard and her today.

The suit fit her to a T. Almost too perfectly, in fact, something Arturia knew had to be Merlin's doing. She wondered why a suit would be a good idea to advertise in the summer, but upon slipping it on she understood. Unlike the outfit that was provided for her by Irisviel, in fine Italian fashion, this jacket was made of linen and was light to the touch. What she thought was an undershirt was in fact a simple white camisole made of silk. The trousers were more closely fitted to her skin, and the bottoms ended above her ankle, which she wasn't used to.

Oh, and there was…

Arturia clapped a palm to her forehead as she lifted those odd contraptions humanity dared call shoes out of their box. How was she supposed to walk in these? The question was repeated to the old wizard when she stepped in front of the white background.

"Well, don't get your knickers in a twist," Merlin chided, slipping on the lovely pair of black pointed-toe slingbacks he had specially made for her. "As if I didn't have you wear heels to help with my illusions before. You'll get used to it."

Arturia was pulled onto wobbly feet, then the wizard walked her around for a bit til she could at least move around comfortably. These shoes were hardly functional, she'd never worn a pair that hurt the balls of her feet quite this much. Frankly, it was ridiculous. Still, a part of her did admit she liked the added height in the mirror, even if it was a dishonest trick of fashion. A few rounds of nearly falling over later, and Arturia was finally uncomfortably in front of the camera.

Merlin snapped photo after photo. Even if he could sense his king's awkwardness, he tutored her well on posture and the art of carrying oneself back when she was but a child, lessons she took with her all her life. Of course, he never imagined she'd be using that particular skill set to model all the newest fashion trends, but he supposed it mattered not as long as it was working.

He posed himself and signaled for her to copy, which she did perfectly, angling herself in such a manner that was definitely better than what he had in mind.

Wait...did they actually?

He drew back, viewed the image in the setup of monitors next to him. Huh.

"Arturia, we...we got it," he said, surprised. The photo was bloody perfect. The light! The shadows! Her face! He was right about starting with suits. Her strong silhouette and the fact that she'd worn them before as a Servant gave her the easy grace and sophistication needed to pull them off. That, and her slightly broader shoulders definitely added to the outfit. Holy hell, if it was this easy every day he wouldn't have hired all those photographers.

He touched his forehead with his palm. Merlin originally planned to do just one outfit with Arturia(whichever one they'd get the best shot from) and give the rest to some of his more experienced contacts, just like he was going to do with Diarmuid. But now, he felt it was a crime not to give her the whole collection. Oh, the models' agents were going to flat out murder him. Oh, no. Did that mean he'd have to do the masculine set with just one male as well? Oh, bother.

He nibbled his lip in contemplation. They were going to do an editorial soon, weren't they? Perhaps if he could get Arturia comfortable enough with modelling before that time, she could be the main face.

"Come see," he beckoned the new recruit.

She crossed over to behind the monitors, where multiple images of herself were on display, the latest one on the top-right screen. It was a little crazy, how what would have been hours upon hours standing still in front of a painter was now reduced to minutes. The product being an exact likeness of her instead of spiced with the painter's interpretation of how her face looked. Still, compared to the usual look of the models in magazines…

Merlin's serene face fell when he realized his king's thoughts, but he sent her off to the dressing room with a cool face. He probably shouldn't have expected her view of herself to improve on the very first day, but it was a start. Humans took longer to process things after all, and even longer to change.

That was partially the reason he enlisted the help of the King of Heroes. Yes, he was a proper asshole and a prick, but someone such as him, with an ego so massive and overbearing, was the perfect candidate to help Merlin with Arturia. Probably.

Merlin sighed as Arturia came back out in another of his designs. He hoped she wouldn't be too cross with him.


"What's this?" he called, "Is ignoring my presence any way for a king to act, Arturia?"

She glared in his direction and collected her things. Merlin had Maria put items that she liked from the collection into paper bags marked with the company logo for her to take home and to use. She was having a good day, she really was, despite all Merlin's fussing around with her hair and her collar, and who else knew what. She would not have Gilgamesh ruin that.

Besides, she still hasn't forgiven him for..for that.

She resisted the urge to touch her neck and went to snatch her phone from the vanity. Except it wasn't where she left it. Instead, it was in the sneaky clutches of the man she most certainly wished to be away from.

"Ah, at last, I have your attention I see," he smirked triumphantly, the kind of expression that never failed to make Arturia fume. If he believed this would go like last time did, he was wrong. Her wound had healed up completely, she hadn't a fever, and her magic circuits were just about ready for a fight if he dared touch her again.

"What do you want, King of Heroes?"

She sighed. It seemed it was too late to hope her day was saved. It was bound to go sour the moment she saw him. She crossed her arms as he approached, wondering just how long she would have to deal with him...with this. Kiritsugu had not contacted her since the first seal, and if there were long intervals between them then she had to expect to be around the King of Heroes for even longer.

"I believe I have made myself abundantly clear on that matter, King of Knights."

Arturia backed away from his fingers just before they cupped her chin. She had enough of that. Who did he take her for? She was a king, she would not allow him that. Not anymore. Arturia was convinced now, stronger than ever, that those gentle eyes he'd shown her glimpses of were just a fluke. Just a trick of the light and nothing more.

Gilgamesh didn't care. Perhaps he was born without the ability to do so. Really, it was such a waste. With dexterity Zayd would be proud of, she wrestled the communication device out of Gilgamesh's hands and made for the door.

"Arturia-"

She stopped then, looked back at him with eyes that were forever etched into his memory. And then all was still, like the world had forgotten to turn, like the clock just ceased its ticking. The king took one step forward. She took one back, and another. And the next thing he knew, he was alone, the hollow echoes of a slammed door resonating in his ears.

His fingers dug into his skin as he clenched his fist. Why didn't she understand? How hard was it to accept that she was his? He had decided that a long time ago, that she was worthy of being his queen, that she was the only woman who would ever be worthy of that title. Was this the work of the Grail? Of her mongrel of a Master? Surely there had to have been a reason for this stubborn madness she insisted on.

Madness, yes. That must be it.

There was no other reason for his chest to feel so crushed.

"You have to remember, Arturia lives in the present, unlike you, King of Heroes," Merlin would tell him later, as he was taking different shots of the king in the more expensive lines of clothing

RTK was going to roll out. Gilgamesh honestly wouldn't put on anything without a luxury price tag.

"Those are private moments between your king and I, mongrel," Gilgamesh scolded, "I have half a mind to remove those troublesome eyes of yours should you use them for such purposes."

Merlin photographed him despite the new model's irritation. In fact, the added expression actually accented his features and made him suitable for the kind of image he wanted Gilgamesh to go for anyway. Diarmuid's main role was to be a 'good' guy. A gentleman of sorts. Gilgamesh, the arrogant bad boy. Arturia, strong and independent.

"It's good advice, King of Heroes," he said, mumbling into his Nikon. "Take it."

Of course, it wasn't like he wasn't...irked by how Gilgamesh had been treating Arturia as of late. Or, at all, considering what he was like in the Fifth Holy Grail War. And the Fourth. Bloody shite, was it a bad idea to let him into the company?

"Normally, I wouldn't stand for such callous requests. As king, I do not take orders from anyone, and certainly not a little half-demon such as yourself." he declared, shifting to another angle to better present himself.

Gilgamesh seemed to be contemplating something. Perhaps he was looking back on his actions? Oh, who was he kidding, this man was not one to regret his decisions, was he?

"But, as you were her counsel, I shall allow it. Be grateful for my consideration, Arturia's wizard," the oldest king said, looking directly at the camera for the first time. They got the shot.

Merlin kept himself composed and soothed the itch to roll his eyes. Gilgamesh was insufferable, but undoubtedly a good model, besting Arturia's being photogenic due to her royal tutoring and Diarmuid's god-given looks. It was probably the king's massive ego working for him here.

Merlin recalled what working with his first Servant model outside of the Round Table was like, and he, though much more tanned, acted so similarly to Gilgamesh it was uncanny. That guy was a king too, though he much preferred being called something else.

"You see the future, don't you? With those eyes," Merlin asked, as Gilgamesh came back with the next set of clothes on. He was answered with a raised brow.

The king moved, stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning his head. Merlin honestly wanted to strangle himself, the goddamn talent this man had, it was almost unfair.

"My king does not. It's that simple," Merlin said, looked once more through the lens only to see Gilgamesh had stopped posing, and now stood straight, glaring at the camera. He had his arms folded in front of him, ruining all chances of getting any good shots of the clothes.

"Oh? And your point, mongrel?"

Merlin sighed. He forgets from time to time that not everyone had the same eyes that he did, and thus not everyone could understand what he meant. Even Gilgamesh, who had similar eyes with different enough powers wouldn't understand.

"Look," Merlin started, "Arturia thinks of you, even now. Even after everything you've put her through."

Gilgamesh looked away to the side, and to Merlin's dismay, he couldn't capture the split-second emotion that crossed the king's face, even if the camera flashing told him he did try.

"Is it so unnatural for a queen to think of her king? It would be much more scandalous if it was another man on her mind, now would it not?" Gilgamesh replied, and after another pose went back into the dressing room for another outfit. Oh, if only he knew who else had been dancing around Arturia's brain these days. Honestly, Merlin wasn't sure if the man was convincing himself Arturia wasn't losing faith in him, or if his ego really just made him blind to the facts.

"She's thinking," Merlin enunciated, "That you might be a lost cause." That was the truth. Merlin honestly couldn't blame her after all Gilgamesh had done. Even if he was the spectator kind, the old wizard was honestly thinking about giving the king a piece of his mind, especially regarding the two marks Gilgamesh left on her neck a few nights ago. If anything, he was surprised Arturia didn't act out more, considering how devastated she was to be taken advantage of by her own sibling back in-no, that might have actually been a prime reason. Merlin reminded himself he had to help his king get over that particular trauma at some point.

"Oh?" Gilgamesh voiced, then erupted into a fit of laughter to ostentatious Merlin honestly wondered if it was practiced to be that way.

The wizard put the camera aside and leveled his gaze at the first true king. "I see what I see, King Gilgamesh." He wisely used his title to appease the ancient one, even if he would only ever be loyal to one king. He took a final shot, and signaled for the Mesopotamian to get behind the screen to inspect his work. He got Gilgamesh at a lot of good angles, but honestly, it was because the King didn't really have any bad ones. Not really.

Gilgamesh seemed to approve of all the shots though, as is to be expected, so it would really be up to Merlin which ones to use. He found the king instead sifting through some portraits he took earlier that day for a magazine feature. He was supposed to use them in case the editors asked to include Arturia as a new face, but...well.

Merlin pulled the corner of a tin from the pile and handed it to the King of Heroes. "This one. Take this one."

Arturia was wearing a white suit with a fitting skirt, accented by subtle gold accessories on her wrists and neck. It was the only outfit where Merlin had her wear her hair loose and swept over one shoulder. It was one of the shots he was on the fence about using because on the one hand, she wasn't looking at the camera, but on the other…

Arturia was breathtaking. Her eyes were just set alight, shining bright as emeralds struck by the sun. Her lips, so very rarely pulled into a grin, formed a serene little smile that erased all his worries and soothed all his pains. For one reason or the other, the fan finally worked right, and tossed her golden strands in such a way it framed her face so magically, he wanted to take credit for it.

Wordlessly, Gilgamesh plucked the photo from his hands. The wizard wasn't sure how to describe what expression the king was wearing, but it wasn't the default arrogant bastard one he had suffered a long hour with. It was different.