"How could you..."
Mélusine had just turned her head, preparing to have a serious talk with Ian about this method of negotiation.
But she quickly realized it was too late.
The reason was simple.
Ian seemed to have already assumed that this method was extremely effective.
So even with Mélusine turning to look at him, he carried on regardless.
And if she were being honest...
His technique... how has it gotten so much better...?
Is it because he does this with Artoria every day that he's become so skilled?
As Mélusine thought this, the image of Artoria and Ian being affectionate in the bathhouse that day surfaced in her mind once again.
No.
I can't think about that.
Mélusine bit her lip firmly.
I absolutely cannot give in to him so easily—
However, Mélusine's resolve lasted for less than a second before completely vanishing.
Because to Ian, her reaction was a clear sign that she "felt it wasn't enough."
"I understand."
"In that case—"
"Eh!"
Mélusine's eyes widened.
If she had been hesitant before, then now, her mind was filled with nothing but the impact delivered by Ian.
Her hands, which had been braced against the wall, were now gripped behind her back by him.
Along with that came the sound of him leaning in closer.
"Mélusine, I will give you more reward."
"No, you idiot!"
It was too late.
At the break of dawn, Mélusine's face was pressed against the city wall.
Sounds were catching in her throat, and her whole body began to tremble violently.
"Stop, stop."
"If you don't stop—"
"I'm going to cry out."
Though she said this, her slender waist couldn't help but move along with his rhythm.
I've...
...completely become his.
The petite swordswoman thought this, and finally let out a cry.
Fortunately—
Camelot at dawn was not as bustling as one might think. Although Mélusine's voice was wanton, it didn't attract much attention.
-----
After a good while.
Mélusine was sprawled on the ground.
Feeling weak all over, she really wanted to make a not-so-polite gesture at Ian behind her.
But before she could, Ian had already picked her up in his arms.
"Was that enough?"
"Do you want to continue?"
"..."
Feeling that hot thing against her back, Mélusine quickly shook her head.
"No more!"
"That was enough! More than enough!"
"Ian, don't you dare do it again!"
"So you've agreed?"
"I agree, I'll agree to anything!"
"No, wait a minute."
Mélusine, preoccupied with wanting Ian to stop, hesitated for a moment, then asked cautiously.
"If I heard you correctly..."
"...you want my help in getting Artoria and Morgan to get along, right?"
"Yes."
Ian nodded.
"That's what I want."
"How is that possible!" Mélusine waved her hands. "It's not like you don't know how bad their relationship is. Even if you ask, I can't think of any way to help you!"
"Besides—"
Mélusine climbed to her feet.
She clamped her legs together, trying her best not to look disheveled.
"Why are you asking me... I don't have any way to help you either!"
"No."
Ian shook his head.
"You definitely have a way."
"Mélusine, didn't you find a way to get along well with Artoria?"
"What are you..."
Mélusine stopped mid-sentence.
She realized Ian was referring to their encounter in the bathhouse.
"You..."
"You don't actually think that method would work on Morgan, do you?"
"No way!"
"That woman is terrifying! She's not easygoing like me!"
"Then help me think of a way."
Ian hugged Mélusine, who was trying to escape.
Although he was nominally Artoria's husband, for a species like dragons, the concept of "morality" seemed to be a very thin thing.
Otherwise, he wouldn't be hugging her so directly right now.
But speaking of which...
Looking at the hands wrapped around her, Mélusine felt an indescribable happiness in her heart.
I'm so happy.
Being needed like this makes me happy.
It's bliss.
Being held so simply like this is bliss.
"Aren't you just making things difficult for me..."
Mélusine muttered under her breath.
"How would I know a good way to help you with that?"
"But, why do you have such a thought in the first place?"
Mélusine touched Ian's hands and turned her head to look at him.
"There must be some reason you want to do this, right?"
"Can you... tell me?"
"..."
"I feel that they are both in pain."
Ian hesitated for only a moment before saying it so directly.
"Pain?"
Mélusine heard a word that was somewhat foreign to both her and Ian.
"Ian, you mean..."
"I don't know how to describe it, Mélusine."
Ian held her in his arms as if she were a small doll.
"But, whenever I hear Artoria mention Morgan, I can feel the sadness in her tone."
"It's a..."
"...a taste that makes me very sad."
"..."
Mélusine had grown accustomed to Ian's way of speaking, which was like describing fine cuisine.
She also understood what he meant.
"So, are you saying these words and making these requests just for Artoria?"
"Only for her?"
"I don't know..."
Ian shook his head.
"But, when I see Morgan, I have similar thoughts."
"And—"
"Compared to Artoria, the taste that emanates from her feels even worse to me."
"This..."
Listening to Ian's words, Mélusine's expression grew more and more complex.
She herself should have been a candidate in this, but now she could only hear the two options of Morgan and Artoria.
But—
He likes them both, doesn't he?
"I understand."
"In that case..."
"I think there might be a way," Mélusine said, then looked up.
"A way?"
"Yes."
Mélusine nodded.
Then, she began to speak of the matter that made even her feel a little uneasy, but that she had to say for his sake.
"Let's... go find that girl named Baobhan Sith."
"I have a feeling she'll definitely have a way to help us!"