When Shiomi returned to the room, he found the lights off. Morgan was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a gown that looked lavishly ornate. It had to be the formal dress Habetrot had been keeping for her.
Habetrot wasn't in the room anymore, probably leaving right after helping Morgan get changed.
"Are you not going to turn on the light?" Morgan asked.
"Sorry. I was just a little shocked and blanked out for a second," Shiomi said with a smile as he switched the light on.
In the dimness, he could still make her out, but it didn't compare to seeing her properly once the room was lit.
The moment the light came on, Shiomi felt like the room had turned dazzlingly bright, even though the lamp itself wasn't all that strong.
He blinked hard, then nodded to himself.
It wasn't the light that was blinding. It was Morgan.
She was dressed in a pure white gown. Compared to the black-dominated outfits she usually wore, this one suited the title "Queen of Winter" far better, though it lacked her usual cold, decisive edge.
If she dressed like this while ruling Camelot, while ruling the northern part of the Fairy Kingdom, the fairies would probably become even more unruly than before. They wouldn't fear Morgan the way they used to.
"My husband… don't stare at me like that," Morgan said. A faint blush spread across her cheeks, but her face was bright with a radiant smile. "Even after all these years, if you examine me from every angle the moment I put on something new, I still get embarrassed."
"As I remember it, the dress Habetrot designed for you back at the Textile Bureau wasn't meant to be a solid color," Shiomi said, thinking back. "She planned to embroider roses on it with purple silk thread. But looking at it now… it's white roses for decoration instead."
Morgan gave him a light smile. "And whose fault is that? You were the one who said your own formalwear should have roses embroidered with silver thread…"
"Hm. And then?" Shiomi hadn't asked after that. He'd left everything to Habetrot.
"Then Habetrot said that if you did that, your outfit would have to be mostly black," Morgan said, leaning against Shiomi's shoulder. "So to make the difference in status between the King and the fairy consort stand out, she suggested designing mine in pure white. But… you know how it ended."
"I'm sorry," Shiomi said quietly. "Back then, maybe there was a steadier way to crush the conspiracy, but I—"
Morgan raised a hand and gently pressed it to his lips. "You endured the fairies on that island, their foolishness unchanged for three thousand six hundred years. Even if I can forgive them, I can't ask you to forgive them too. It may be cruel, but I've never once believed any choice you made back then was wrong."
The past was like dust and smoke. Now, when they looked back, what lingered in their hearts wasn't so much the pain of ideals collapsing in the end, but a calm acceptance that came from weathering everything.
"Let's not talk about things that sour the mood," Shiomi said, shaking his head. "If we hadn't happened to bring up the dress today, you and Habetrot would've just kept misunderstanding each other, and it would've ended up sealed away under dust sooner or later."
"Because neither of us thought things would take such a sudden turn," Morgan said, holding his hand. "I knew that unsealing you would mean Britannia's destruction. I just never expected Britannia to be completely destroyed in the span of a single day."
In the end, so many things she'd wanted to take with her could only vanish into the catastrophe, leaving nothing behind but memories.
Then she added softly, "But… what matters most, what I never wanted to lose, is still here. So I don't regret it."
Losing him. Losing Baobhan Sith. Losing Totorot.
She couldn't have accepted any of it, and yet because they had struggled together, those things had been preserved—carefully, properly—until now.
"That's good." Shiomi kissed her forehead, then gently brushed her hair with his cheek.
"By the way, did you notice… Habetrot has completely lost that short temper she used to have," Morgan said with a smile.
"Once a fairy finds her reason to live, that restlessness naturally fades away," Shiomi replied, lightly stroking the back of her hand. "Or do you think being a little more hot-blooded would make her seem livelier?"
"Let's not," Morgan shook her head. "I can't help remembering when we first met. We exchanged a few words, didn't get along, and immediately started fighting. It made me realize that even the fairies on the island can grow and change."
"But fairies like that are rare," Shiomi said, shaking his head.
"True." Morgan suddenly sat up, cupping his face and looking straight into those familiar eyes. "It might sound strange, but since I'm wearing this today… treat me like a bride, just for tonight."
"No wonder you told me to come to the room instead of Habetrot's workshop," Shiomi said calmly, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Looks like my Mana still isn't enough."
"You could put it that way. Besides the usual amount, I want to store some extra," Morgan replied. "Once I step into the Great Temple, there won't be any time to rest." Her eyes shimmered softly, the composure in her voice stretched thin, like a string on the verge of snapping. "And also—"
"And also?"
"I want the memory of this moment to become one of the most important things you carry with you while you're still human." Morgan gently bit his lip, speaking at an intimate distance. "If you have to face Zeus, or even an alien god… doing so without standing as a complete god will be incredibly hard."
"You really went out of your way," Shiomi said quietly. He knew Morgan wasn't acting on impulse alone. That feeling of being understood so deeply, at any time, made the softest part of his heart sway with her words.
"I just made use of what was right here and thought of it on the spot," Morgan said with a smile, her eyes curving. "Even though we've already made so many memories, when I think about it now, it still feels far from enough. I suppose I've become just like you… greedy."
"That's not greed. It's a perfectly natural feeling," Shiomi said, lips pressed together as he smiled.
"That's exactly what's wrong with you," Morgan teased.
"Hm?"
"You always find ways to justify everything I say and do. You've been like that since the day we first met," Morgan said, looking at him. "It's a miracle I didn't turn unbearable from all that indulgence."
"That just proves you were already an unbeatable woman to begin with," Shiomi said, holding her closer. "Even if you'd grown a little spoiled, you'd still know where to draw the line. But I'm different."
"Very different. But I don't want to talk about that right now," Morgan said softly. "Right now, there should only be me in your eyes."
"No, what I mean is—" Shiomi leaned close to her ear and whispered, "I'll do my best not to damage this precious dress, but… if I accidentally stain it, please don't get mad, all right?"
"Just as I thought~"
That was Morgan's final reply, gentle and flowing like water.
...