Usually, under normal circumstances, anyone would dread to leave an outing, especially consisting of fun and friends but with the situation turning into a cat-dog fight, not to mention with spectators, Octavia thought the better of it. She nodded with relief.

Arthur crouched down to pick Octavia's linen cloth before spreading it out in front of him. Octavia silently batted her eyelashes at him. "I'm afraid we haven't got much time," The ladies were speechless. Meanwhile, Rhiannon was having the time of her life turning to her brother and the girls, back and forth. After a long pause, the King sighed and shut his eyelids, tilting his head upwards. "Must I repeat myself?"

And stay here with a heated Morgan? No. Octavia quickly climbed out with ease, grabbed her clothes and tugged onto the unfolded cloth. For that brief moment, the girls saw, without a doubt, Octavia's bare back, covered with scars that slashed in every direction it possibly could. Morgan was the first to have her breath hitched.

Arthur made no hesitation raveling it around her slim body before pushing her to go forwards. With fast strides, they exited the common bath, leaving the women in utter bewilderment.

"Were those…"

"Scars?" Rhiannon asked, turning to Morgan. She nodded, along with the elves. The brunet healed Octavia before while she was unconscious. Naturally, she would've seen her whole body. Arching her back and dipping herself deeper into the water, her lips curved into a sly smile. "Being a commoner was one thing. But being a commoner who was once a noble was another… she said,"

"She said that?"

"Yep,"

Having to explain the quarrelling between women over an immature topic to the King was really a strange experience. Moreover, both of them were in a changing room. Arthur still had his eyes shut. Yet, there were times where he accidentally fluttered them open for the split second to not daze off.

Octavia had her body faced the other way while her head kept turning back to the man. "You know, Octavia,"

"Mm?" She draped over an oversized tunic.

"I really wonder how you and Morgan are even friends. Or were…"

Octavia couldn't help feeling her heart sink at the remark. "We may have opposite attitudes but we've worked our way as partners in wars. She wouldn't be here without me and-"

"Oh, dear god, no," Arthur hurriedly spoke. "I was referring to how you two dressed," A pause. Octavia broke into laughter.

Now, she didn't seem to care that Arthur had his eyes wide open. Her huge tunic covered all the way to her knees. It made Arthur wonder whether it was really hers. He shrugged. As she tightened a belt around her waist, she mentioned about how she was chatting to Morgan the other day before they went hunting.

"You're telling me, Octavia?" Arthur giggled. "She was my friend for more than a decade. I saw her body grew in places I didn't know were supposed to be desirable," The blonde laughed again, covering her mouth sweetly in the process. "No offence,"

"No, no," Octavia absent-mindedly waved a hand. "That was hilarious," They both smiled, as they looked at each other in utter silence, swallowing in the true beauty of joy attained from such friendships before remembering why they were rushing in the first place. The King pursed his lips, grin turning into a frown. Octavia gave a last tug to her boots' laces.

"Are you ready?" he asked, elbows on his knees while he comfortably sat on the bench.

Octavia always marveled how her once immature friend was able to become the ruler of a prosperous kingdom. What's more was that he was able to bear juggling between friends and the entire nation. The blonde voiced an affirmative. "It's just going to be a regular meeting between Decimus, Arawn, you and I. Nothing formal,"

Octavia shrugged, indifferent.

Grand wooden doors creaked open as they saw two men lounging on chairs. The meeting room was huge for a group of mere four. Though, the enormous round table has always been an object of wonder for the many people who entered this room. If people weren't so particular about physical proximity, the round table could well accommodate twenty guests.

"Took you two long enough," Arawn said, half muttering.

"Please," Decimus uttered, placing a gentle hand on Arawn's shoulder. He turned to Arthur and Octavia. "It was of no inconvenience for us. Do take a seat,"

As soon as they comfortably sat beside each other, Octavia came a bit closer to Decimus. "Are you taking charge of this?"

"Yes," he answered, carefully taking out a scroll from his leather bag. Blue eyes widened. Octavia recognized the wax seal of that scroll. It was vivid yellow and branded a capital 'A'. "Now, has King Arthur told you anything?" She turned to him as both of them shook their heads.

"That's…" Octavia silently blinked a few times to see the seal clearly. It was what she thought it was. No doubt. "That's my family's seal- the Aurelian seal,"

Arawn, as usual, did not show much interest in the meeting. Though, he clearly was at this point. Decimus looked at the young woman with rueful looks.

"I was summoned by the Empire," he said slowly, as though to give Octavia time to register his words. "During my stay, for four days, I am told of news that your family, the Aurelian family, had been appointed head of the country," Octavia took a while to remember that Nero was her cousin. "Moreover, they were considering of coming down here. To Albion,"

Decimus paused while Octavia scrunched her brows. She turned to Arthur who nodded blankly. "Are they?" Gaius' ex-assistant handed her the scroll.

"I apologize beforehand for I could not have come back any sooner to deliver this scroll. I am cross myself," he added with a small laugh. "And to be frank, I do not know how you would accept this news. But it is of good intention, milady. There is no need to fear this," He nodded at it.

Octavia broke the seal. Its cracked pieces dropped to her tunic as the document loosened in her slightly quivering hands. She gulped. Moment of truth, she thought. She stretched it open cautiously and studied the three paragraphs. The handwriting struck her memory. "It's Atia's,"

"Yes," Decimus, noticing the King's puzzled look. "Her mother's sister, Atia,"

"Oh,"

Octavia breathed and read it out.

Dear King Arthur and Octavia Minor,

We would like to visit Albion for a week with the intention to hold a meeting. There will be four of us, which are Emperor Nero, Atia the First, Mark Antony and Claudia. Accommodation is unnecessary.

Arthur cringed at the different long names. Arawn muffled a chuckle with his crimson scarf. It reminded him of Pwyll.

We shall arrive three days after this letter has been received. Please inform the guards of your main gates to seize weaponry upon our arrival for we have no intention to harm the people of Albion. If it becomes otherwise, do not hesitate to do what you must. Please arrange the meeting in a private space, preferably with stoned walls to prevent outsiders overhearing our discussions.

We trust this message to be delivered to only the people who are to attend the meeting. We hope that this visit will run smoothly in hopes to attain equal sociability after centuries of unnecessary bloodshed.

Sincerely,

Atia Balba Prima

The four of them stared at each other, momentarily perplexed. "The emperor? With us?" Arthur inquired.

"They've gotten themselves a new one," Arawn explained. "Octavia's cousin, Nero,"

Another stroppy silence. "Ah yes!" Decimus exclaimed as he turned around to rummage through his bag. "I am appointed as your temporary assistant, milady. So if you have any inquiries about formalities and such, please seek for my assistance,"

He pulled out folded clothes, which were in bright red and black. They were passed to Octavia. "These are your new formal clothing. They weren't certain whether you preferred black or red. However, Atia made sure to tailor in a way that it shouldn't be too hot,"

That would make sense. All of them would melt in Albion. "Why would I need them?"

"For big meetings only. They have theirs as well. But on casual occasions, none of us would mind wearing anything," he added. Octavia found Decimus much like an overgrown puppy. He looked too innocent to be helping so desperately for sometimes a violent cause.

Arawn hummed as he leaned back into the chair. "Ah, yes. Looks like we all have to prepare proper uniforms as well," Arthur grunted.

With little discussion, they left and went back to their chambers. They were too sleepy.

Octavia felt queasy. A new emperor? Temporary assistant? Formal clothing? She should be happy. In fact, she expected this to happen sooner or later. She just didn't expect it to come so soon.