"Lady Morgan?"
"Lady Morgan!"
"Lady Morgan!!!"
After three calls in a row, the female apprentices who had accompanied Morgan to the Fantasy Tree finally managed to bring the renowned magus of Camelot back to her senses.
"What is it?"
"It's nothing."
The female apprentice answered Morgan's words cautiously.
"I just saw that you've been standing here in a daze for a long time, Lady Morgan, so I came over."
"..."
"Thank you for your concern."
Morgan revealed a gentle smile.
"I'm fine."
"Continue with what I've instructed. Our time is tight, so we must be quick."
"Yes!"
After confirming that Morgan was alright, the female apprentice left, heading towards the "Tree" not far away.
However...
What she didn't know was that not long after she left, Morgan once again fell into deep thought.
Only this time, she was now holding something in her hand.
It was the letter Baobhan Sith had sent her.
A spell had been cast on it: "To be opened only by Mother Morgan."
As for the contents inside...
Morgan frowned.
"How can I make Father Ian think I have a 'scent'?"
That's right.
It was just that simple and direct question. No extra embellishments, no beating around the bush. Her daughter, Baobhan Sith, just wanted to know the answer to this question.
But...
Looking at the contents of the letter, Morgan couldn't help but fall into contemplation.
The reason was simple:
This was abnormal behavior.
First, casting such a spell on the envelope, while it could be loosely understood as "not wanting others to know," was in itself a sign of urgency—because she didn't want others to know, but was in a hurry to ask the question, she could only use magecraft to achieve this.
But...
Returning to the letter itself, for her daughter to do such a thing meant her level of concern for this question was far beyond normal.
After all, Baobhan Sith had never even mentioned what she liked.
It was precisely for this reason that such a letter seemed quite unreal.
And speaking of which...
A "scent"?
Why did she care about this "scent"?
The more she thought, the more something felt wrong. After a moment of thought, Morgan began to write a reply to Baobhan Sith.
"My dearest daughter—"
.....
Several days later.
In Camelot.
Morgan's replies were delivered by several knights to different people.
That's right.
Baobhan Sith wasn't the only one who had questions for Morgan. Artoria, and even Mélusine, had many things they wanted to ask the magus.
However—
Baobhan Sith didn't care what the others' questions were.
She only wanted to know what her mother's response to her question would be.
However...
The situation was completely beyond Baobhan Sith's expectations.
After she tore open the envelope, she saw the contents with a single glance.
"My dearest daughter:"
That's right.
That was the entirety of the letter.
Aside from the opening salutation, there was nothing else.
Morgan...
...had sent back an almost blank letter!
Baobhan Sith was stunned for a long while before she processed it.
Impossible!
Absolutely impossible!
My mother Morgan would never send back a letter like this!
There's definitely something wrong with this!
However—
Harboring this thought, Baobhan Sith tried to examine the surface of the letter, only to find that it wasn't at all what she had imagined.
Nothing.
There was absolutely nothing.
Morgan had indeed only written that one line, and nothing more.
How could this be?
Baobhan Sith immediately began to consider all the possible reasons for this.
Soon, she had an idea.
Could it be... the knight who delivered the letter tampered with it?
This possibility was quickly dismissed by Baobhan Sith—
Her letter wasn't the only one delivered; Artoria and the others had received theirs too. To tamper with them at a time like this would be tantamount to expressing dissatisfaction with Artoria.
Then, maybe she really didn't write anything?
Baobhan Sith couldn't figure it out.
But she was as intelligent as Morgan, so she quickly thought of a countermeasure.
Perhaps her letter wasn't the only one like this. Maybe Mélusine and Artoria were in the same situation.
If she could find the meaning in theirs, perhaps she could understand.
No sooner said than done, Baobhan Sith took the letter with only the opening line and went to find Mélusine.
She set me up so badly last time. This time, there's no way she won't offer any help at all.
However—
Things did not go as smoothly as she had imagined, at least not for Baobhan Sith.
She went to the training grounds where Mélusine usually was, only to find that she wasn't there at all.
Not only was Mélusine absent, but Barghest, who usually had sparring practice with Mash, was also not there.
The only one she could talk to was Mash.
"Sister Baobhan Sith."
"Are you..."
Holding the shield her mothers gave her, Mash looked curiously at Baobhan Sith who had come before her.
She hadn't spent much time with her, but their relationship wasn't too bad.
"..."
Looking at Mash, Baobhan Sith knelt down and gently stroked her head.
"Where is Sister Barghest?"
"I don't know." Mash shook her head. "After Mama came looking for her just now, they told me to wait here for them, but... they haven't come back for a long time."
"Eh?"
A flash of surprise went through Baobhan Sith's mind.
Barghest left with Mélusine?!
That's not right, is it?
Barghest didn't write anything to Morgan, but Mélusine did.
If the two of them are together, it's highly likely they're discussing the reply.
Could it be... there was also something wrong with their letters?
The more she thought, the more something felt wrong. Baobhan Sith knew she couldn't just wait here any longer.
"Then, do you know which way they went?"
"Big sister wants to find them."
"..."
Mash stood on her tiptoes, leaning on her shield, and looked off into the distance.
"It seemed to be towards the castle."
"The castle?"
The unease in Baobhan Sith's heart grew stronger.
"Well, you continue to wait for them here, okay? Don't wander off."
"Mhm~"
"Damn it..."
Baobhan Sith muttered, and then began to hurry in the direction Mash had pointed.
However—
Before she had taken more than a few steps, Baobhan Sith stopped in her tracks.
"What a coincidence."
"We meet again."
The First Knight, Ian, appeared there as if by fate