A few days have passed since the summoning of the enigmatic servant. Just as his first impressions suggested, Archer was reclusive and antisocial. The few times he did interact with others; he was snarky or outright mocking. It wasn't from a place of real hate (unless it was directed at Cú Chulainn) as anyone could see. He simply wanted to be alone.

So, an event occurred which surprised Artoria that began when Mordred ran up to her with an excited grin upon her face, "Father! Come to the cafeteria! Master needs you there! There-" However, before the Knight of Rebellion could finish her sentence, Artoria made a mad dash to the cafeteria. It was her very instinct as a knight to come to her Master's aid, for how else can she call herself the King of Knights if her lord dies.
Yet, when she reaches the cafeteria, she does not find a battle or impending doom upon the last remnants of humanity. Instead, she finds a majority of CHALDEA's servants huddled and cheering like they were watching a gladiator match. At the centre of attention was the mysterious Archer servant, and the Berserker known as Tamamo Cat. The latter is dressed in a maid uniform, staring angrily at the Archer, whilst the bowman wears a nonchalant expression. In the middle of them is Gudao, trying to mediate whatever argument had come between them, or rather trying to placate Tamamo Cat from causing a fight in the middle of CHALDEA.

And quickly enough, Mordred arrives a little annoyed at having been cut off, "As I was saying father," The Knight continues through gritted teeth. Normally she'd have blown up at any other servant, but the one before her was her King, "Nameless there was using the kitchen, not knowing that Tamamo Cat claimed it a while ago." Artoria scrunched her nose at the memory. Tamamo's canine nature had taken over and declared the kitchen as her territory in the more… natural method. It was very disturbing.

"You call him Nameless?" Artoria asks her son, an eyebrow raised.
Mordred shrugs, "Nero came up with it or something. Anyway, despite Tamamo repeatedly trying to threaten Nameless into leaving, he just looks at her and rolls his eyes! Then he just continues cooking. I'd say it was badass if it weren't for Tamamo looking ready to reclaim her kitchen in the worst place possible. So, Zhuge Liang came in and suggested a battle."

Artoria looks at Mordred with surprise. She hadn't interacted much with the Pseudo-Servant, but from what she remembers, Waver Velvet was quite a meek boy. For him to get in between two powerful Servants was quite a shock. "A battle? So why call me here, and not to the training halls?"
Mordred frowns, "Because a normal fight would be too cool. Nah, instead that long haired bastard told them to do a food battle! Whoever creates the best dish gets full control over the kitchen and gets to dictate which person is allowed to enter and cook within the kitchen."
"What about Lady Boudica?"
"What about her? She's cool with both of them. She doesn't have a stake in this."
"I see. So, what exactly is my purpose in this?"
"Well, they need a judge who can be fair and unbiased, so who else would they pick apart from you?"

"Arash? Karna? One of the Hassan's?" The King of Knights lists off, thinking to any Servant she could see being good or better alternatives than herself.
"Oh, uh maybe, but your name was one of the first to be suggested as a judge, father." Artoria's eyes meet Mordred's, as the latter's try their best to look anywhere else.

"Sir Bedivere recommended me, didn't he?"
"…Yes, father"
Artoria sighs, "Very well, let's get this farce over and done with."

The two Saber class servants walk into the cafeteria, as Humanity's Last Master sighs in relief, "Oh thank god Artoria, you're here!" He then turns to Tamamo Cat, "Ok then Tamamo, we can settle this quickly, now."
The Berserker lightly growls, thought it was obvious that the anger wasn't towards her master, "I don't think there's anything to settle here, woof. The kitchen is mine." Artoria resists the urge to sigh once more. She always hated dealing with Berserker class servants. Especially those that could talk. Somehow having the ability to speak made them even more of an annoyance.
"You're a servant, Cat." Nameless groans, rolling his eyes. He had been at this for a mere fifteen minutes, and already he was tired of dealing with the Berserker, "You don't own anything apart from the clothes on your back."

"Come on, you guys! We agreed to have a cook off." Gudao once more pleads. Artoria can't help but pity the boy. She too has had to deal with rude and insubordinate knights during her rule (AKA Mordred), but she was able to calm them down with either charisma or sheer dominance in strength. Gudao had none of that. It was miracle that Ishtar and Gilgamesh even listened to his orders most of the time.

"Indeed." Artoria interjects, as all eyes go to her. She turns towards Tamamo Cat, "Whilst you may have asserted control over the kitchens, any servant has their right to acquire that space for themselves. It is only fair, and as such I shall be a fair judge in this battle of culinary skills, so long as the both of you are fine with me as the judge." She wondered if she truly had the rapport of someone who could be relied upon within CHALDEA, or whether nobody wanted to deal with Bedivere should someone say something that he believes is an insult to his King.

"As much as I believe this would be needless if our Master actually used his authority, I trust in Saber's ability to remain unbiased." Nameless says, his cold demeanour causing shivers run down Gudao's spine. It was a little entertaining to see how the Master and Servant interacted. The teenager could talk to a Berserker just fine, but a minute with Nameless made the boy quiver.

"I suppose I can trust Tory-chan, woof." Tamamo Cat grumbles. The 'Tory-chan' in question shoots a look at her knights to pre-emptively stop them from shouting at the Berserker for using such an informal nickname for the King. Though she'd never admit it, Artoria quite liked being referenced so casually. Perhaps it was due to the American movies that Gudao would let the Servants watch during designated movie nights, but the nickname made her feel like a normal person for once, instead of the most noble of the Pendragons.

"Perfect." Zhuge Liang finally speaks up. Taking a good look at him, Artoria saw the stark difference between the Pseudo-Servant and Waver Velvet. The once meek boy who hid behind Iskandar's cape had turned into Lord El Melloi II, a Lord of the Clocktower. It was fascinating how a decade or two could change a person. Artoria quietly wonders if Shirou had changed just as much in his life. "Very well, now that the judge has been agreed upon, I shall now dictate the rules of this food war-"

"Why did you phrase it like that, Lord El Melloi?" Gudao asks, though something told Artoria that the question was definitely not innocent considering the Master's uncharacteristic smirk.

As for the Chinese/English tactician, his cheeks lightly flushed in embarrassment. Perhaps it was some sort of inside joke that she hadn't understood. Even Nameless was smiling at Waver Velvet. She knew that she wasn't quite informed or talented in the art of humour, but how did Nameless of all people get a joke that she didn't? Could it be a subject only men understood? No… Artoria had spent much time pretending to be a man. She believed that she had a good understanding of the male experience. So therefore, there must be some unknown commonality between Gudao, Waver, and Nameless. But what could it possibly be?

"As I was saying," El Melloi continues, blatantly ignoring his master, "The rules are as follows. You will both have 1 hour to complete your dish. It must be a main dish containing at least 500 calories. No magecraft or Noble Phantasm can be utilised in the dish's creation. You will both use CHALDEA's cooking facility simultaneously, and any arguments started during the competition will be faced with consequences. However, before you even enter the kitchen, you will enter separate changing rooms where you will remove the clothes you are currently outfitted with and wear clothes that will soon be provided to you by Queen Boudica. Don't think I can't detect those enchantments on that shroud of yours, Nameless.
Now, if we all agree with the set terms, then I believe it is time for you two to get going." However, the Caster servant looks to his master, the latter nodding in confirmation. Of course, El Melloi didn't really need Gudao's acceptance, but he wanted the young Master to be more used to the idea of being a commanding figure to the servants rather than the summoner who happens to hang around the heroic spirits.

Fifteen minutes pass by after the two servants change into different clothes, though the Berserker was quite upset that she didn't get to wear her own cooking apron, she didn't complain much after seeing the adorable dog patterns on her pink apron. Artoria didn't know how Waver Velvet acquired such a garment, but she couldn't help but let her mind blame the inventor, Leonardo Da Vinci. Underneath the apron, Tamamo Cat wore a short-sleeved pink shirt, which annoyed her greatly since she was usually nude beneath her normal apron. However, El Melloi insisted on the grounds of 'less chance of bacteria spreading,' though the King of Knights was quite sure that he was simply uncomfortable with how much skin Tamamo Cat usually showed.

As for Nameless, he had traded his crimson shroud for a pink apron covered in hearts. If this bothers the Archer, then he certainly doesn't let it show on his face, as he kept his stern expression whilst dicing some onions. He performed with such skill that Artoria wondered if his noble phantasm was based on cooking. Perhaps those two black and white blades he wielded were meant for slicing venison than servants.

The Saber servant watches Archer more often than she does at Tamamo. There was always a nagging feeling whenever she looked at him. What was with that steely expression that made her heart pain so much?

"Oh my…" A shiver runs down Artoria's spine as she turns around to see Marie Antoinette, the Last Queen of France, appearing behind her with what can only be described as a 'shit-eating grin'. Artoria wonder how she had offended God today. "Why, Artoria, has the Nameless Archer caught your eye? Is love in the air?" Artoria resisted the urge to scowl, for she knew it was Marie's nature to be drawn to the concept of love. The Queen liked to fancy herself as a matchmaker of sorts. Were it not for Mozart, she would've nearly tried to set Penthesilea and Achilles on a blind date. Artoria feared what would happen to CHALDEA if that were to ever happen.

"Queen Marie, please do not misunderstand. I am merely trying to discern his true identity." Artoria states, hoping she does not become the Queen's next target.
"Artoria! Have I not insisted that you call me Marie?" She questioned, almost offended before a teasing smile appears on her face, "Now I finally understand why no man or woman in CHALDEA has caught your interest. It is the mysterious men who are your type, no? Tall, dark, and very handsome. I must say Artoria, you have quite an exquisite taste!"
The King of Knights lightly blushes in embarrassment. It was true that no other servant had interested her romantically or sexually. Of course, she acknowledged whether someone was attractive or not, but she simply wasn't interested in them. They always seemed… lesser than the only one she had ever love. They simple weren't Shirou Emiya.
Still, she took the moment to have a closer look at the Nameless Archer. He certainly was quite handsome.
Now that he had rolled his sleeves up, Artoria got a look at his arms. If she had to describe them in one word it would be 'Strong', for they weren't bulging canons like Heracles, but they were a clear sign that they were in pristine condition. And the way his hands held the cutting knife with such a firm grip made Artoria wonder what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms, and his hands on her-
"What am I thinking?!" She mentally shouts at herself as she snaps from the fantasy that had seemingly come out of nowhere. "Why would I think of such things about that Archer of all people!?" Surely her love for Shirou Emiya had not wavered throughout these centuries. Right?
"Oh my, Artoria. What a cute blush you have. I wonder what could've caused it?" Marie says quietly into Artoria's ear, "Perhaps the thought of Nameless, breathing down your neck? Perhaps one of his hands on the back of your head as he pulls your mouth closer to his lips? Or maybe-"
"That is enough, Marie" Artoria interrupts with a cool tone, despite her subtly blushed cheeks, as she shoots a glare at the Queen of France, "Whilst I do appreciate your concern for my love life, I do not wish for your involvement in it. And right now, I am performing the role of judgement in this contest. Please let me focus."
"Very well, Artoria," Marie continues grinning, unperturbed, "But remember, beneath that armour of yours, exists a heart that wishes to love." And before the Saber-Class Servant can respond, Marie Antoinnette disappears from sight, hiding within a crowd of servants, leaving Artoria to her thoughts of love.

Why did this Archer draw her in so much? How does he plague her attention with ease? Her heart is dedicated to Shirou Emiya. He is the one who she longs for. Who she will wait for in Avalon once more when this Grand Order is over. He is the hero who showed her what it was like to truly live. Yet, her heart dares to betray this love.
Did she even feel love for Archer? Or is it simple sexual attraction? If not the second, then why did she have such thoughts at a mere glance at his arms.
It couldn't be love, after all. Her love is for Shirou, and that man was the complete opposite of Shirou. The one she loved lived with no regrets and only held determination within his eyes as walked on the path of a Hero of Justice. But this Archer? He held nothing but contempt for the idea of hero. Artoria remembered how much he mocked Shirou for his dream. And moreover, Nameless is a creature of regret. Anyone could tell that from looking at him. Whatever he went through in life had turned him into a bitter man that could only regret and hate. Artoria wouldn't be surprised if he was able to be summoned as Berserker or Avenger class Servant.

However, her train of thought finishes as a plate of food is slammed in front of her. A delicate aroma fills the air as she looks at the food placed on the table. To less cultured fellow, one would assume that it was a yellow blob, but Artoria knew that Tamamo Cat had served her a Japanese dish known as 'Omurice'. It consisted of fried rice with a selection of vegetables within, all covered by a smooth egg omelette. And as expected of the Berserker, there was an addition which created a little silliness in the meal. On top of the omelette, written in ketchup is 'UR SOOPER COOT SABUR!'. Artoria isn't sure if this was a result of the Madness Enhancement, or if Tamamo Cat didn't know how to spell words properly.

"Tamamo Cat!" Sir Bedivere shouts, incredulous and offended on his King's behalf, his silver hand clutched in fury, "Do you truly think that my King would be swayed by mere flattery, no matter how true it is?!" Artoria resists the urge to sigh once more. The Shining Airgetlám is a trusted confidant, but he can be so embarrassing sometimes.

"Enough, Sir Bedivere." Artoria commands, though not unkindly. Her knight nods sheepishly, as she picks up a spoon. "I suppose I shall taste Tamamo Cat's meal first." She quickly glances to Nameless. He had clearly finished his cooking, but instead watching Artoria's reaction to his opponent's dish, he opts to wash his cooking utensils. The Saber Servant is unsure on whether to be impressed with his confidence or appalled at his arrogance. Well, only a taste would tell which emotion to feel.
With the spoon she separates a part of the omurice, which splits apart like butter. It fits upon the spoon perfectly.
Artoria puts the omurice in her mouth, placing the spoon back on the plate. She can taste the fluffy omelette complimenting the rice. The tang of the ketchup helps bring out all the hidden herbs that Tamamo had used. The freshness of the vegetables that increased the quality of the dish. Overall, it was quite a good dish. But… it was nothing compared to the meals prepared by the greatest cook she had ever met. "You did well, Tamamo. It's a surprisingly refined dish." Artoria compliments. The Berserker gives a smug grin at the nonchalant Archer.

Artoria respectfully pushes the plate of omurice to the side, making room for the mystery dish of Nameless. She wondered what it could be. Something from his homeland? Though she wasn't even sure where his homeland was. His skin pointed towards the Middle East, but his facial features pointed to East Asia. Perhaps he was of a mixed heritage? Regardless, the Saber had no clue as to what he would bring.

So, she was pleasantly surprised to see him gently place a bowl of a Japanese meal known as Katsu Curry. Fluffy white rice that looked like clouds, a golden curry full of chopped carrots and potatoes, and finally the star of the dish, a breaded chicken cutlet evenly sliced to reveal its juicy insides. It took all of Artoria's etiquette-training to resist the urge to drool, or worse, shove the meal right into her mouth with her bare hands.

"Damn. That looks really fucking good. Smells good too." Cú Chulainn mutters, forgetting who exactly he was complimenting. The sentiment was shared with many other servants, all of whom felt deep jealousy for the position Artoria was currently in.

However, the King of Knights could not care less about their desire, for her own hunger took over. For her entire time in CHALDEA, she had chained away her gluttony, her insatiable desire for food. She used all willpower to not ask for seconds during each meal and kept the mask of a calm and noble king, especially when her knights were summoned, yet it felt like that hidden side of hers was about come out any moment.

She skilfully uses a spoon to acquire a portion of the meal, with a proportionate amount of rice, chicken, and curry. The moment the spoon passes her lips, she feels as if she had consumed the nectar of the gods. Artoria isn't a culinary expert by any means, but every ingredient of the dish complimented each other so well that it was like someone had used Excalibur to blow her medieval farmers-girl tastebuds back to the Age of the Gods.

And then, without thinking and lacking any attempt at etiquette, she deploys the spoon once more to grab another bite. And another. And even more bites. No more was she the refined King who oversaw Camelot. Right now, she was the glutton that almost consumed her village's food supplies whilst sleepwalking.

By the time Artoria came to her senses, she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness as she realised that the bowl was empty. Completely empty. To the point that one might assume there was no curry in it the first place. She looked around the area. Some servants were amused, others surprised, a few were in awe, Tamamo Cat looked betrayed for some reason, Cú Chulainn still looked jealous, Gudao was clearly trying to hide his amusement, Nameless was simply smiling, and her Knights of the Round Table looked mere moments away from having their image of her shattered into a million pieces.

Artoria knew she had to say something to them. Something to save face. But simply put, there are for more important things that keeping up appearances. She looks to Nameless, whose strangely warm smile had reverted back to a line. Hesitantly, she asks him, "Archer… You wouldn't happen to have made seconds… or more, would you?" She could hear some of the gasps around the room, the loudest from her son Mordred.

A strange sound came from Archer. A chuckle. And it seems even he was shocked that he made such a sound. "Still a glutton, huh Saber?" He takes her empty plate and begins to walk to his section of the kitchen, "Don't worry, I figured you'd ask. I'll be back in a second."

He knew? He knew of her secret that she kept hidden from even her knights. How? Could she have somehow met him during her life? But that should be impossible. There is no way she could forget someone so memorable. Although perhaps he had been keeping a closer eye on her than she thought during the Grail War. She did it a lot of Shirou's cooking.
Speaking of her love's cooking, she wouldn't say Nameless' cooking is better, but rather simply more experienced. Frankly, Archer's and Shirou's cooking styles carried similar flavours and textures. Even their rice had a similar taste. Archer simply had the upper hand by what she can only assume was decades of refinement of his base techniques. But even still, she could tell that Archer, and her love had the same skill level at one point in their life.
Unfortunately, Artoria wouldn't learn where her trail of thought would lead as Archer places another plate in front of her.

As she digs in, Artoria ignores Mordred's muttering of "So, this is the true face of my father, huh? A glutton."

"Don't act like you're any better, Mordred." Bedivere mutters in a weak defence of the King, "We all remember how much you feasted during the celebrations after the Battle of Mount Badon."
"Screw you, Bedivere" The Knight of Rebellion retorts, though with little malice.