Kanjuro's arms were still gently wrapped around Artoria. His embrace was warm, seemingly her only haven above this cold throne. However, the words coming from his mouth made her heart grow colder with every sentence.
"King," his voice was still gentle, as if stating a matter of course, "a stable dynasty needs inheritance. I think you need a 'consort' to give birth to a legitimate successor for you and for Britain."
Artoria suddenly raised her head, her emerald eyes full of shock and disbelief. She almost blurted out: "But Merlin! You should know better than anyone that I... I am a woman!" This secret she had always carefully hidden was touched upon so easily in front of the person she trusted most.
Kanjuro (Merlin) showed no hint of surprise. He nodded calmly, as if he had long expected her reaction and had already prepared a countermeasure. "I know that, of course, Artoria." His fingers gently combed through her blonde hair with a reassuring rhythm. "Therefore, I will look for a suitable 'wife' for you. A woman of noble birth and gentle temperament, who can play the role of queen well but won't pry into your secrets." His words unfolded slowly, like a most precise conspiracy. "You only need to maintain a superficial marriage with her, letting her become the mother of your heirs in name only. And between you and her... there is no need, nor can there be, any true emotional bond. Do not let her know your true identity, and do not let her truly understand you."
Artoria stared at him blankly, processing this absurd and suffocating plan. For the stability of the kingdom, she had to deceive an innocent woman and establish a family built on a foundation of lies. She felt a strong sense of rejection and humiliation, but her long-standing dependence on and trust in Merlin eventually led her to simply nod with difficulty, her voice dry: "I... understand what you mean." For the sake of the 'big picture' he spoke of, she seemed to have no choice.
The confusion in her heart made her subconsciously seek more guidance, so she turned the topic to governance, which was also an area where she had always felt inadequate. "Merlin, then tell me, how should I govern this country in the future? For me, as of now... I only know how to lead troops in battle." In military matters, she was the invincible king of knights, but in the face of complex politics and people's livelihoods, she often felt like a mere child.
Kanjuro gazed into her confused eyes, the tenderness on his face remained, but the content of his words began to quietly turn cold. He gently cupped her face, making it impossible for her gaze to escape.
"Starting today, Artoria," his voice was low and full of guidance, "I hope you can become... heartless."
"Heartless?" Artoria repeated the word, her heart feeling as if it were being gripped by an icy hand. She was silent for a moment before asking in confusion, "Why do that? Protecting the people and upholding justice, isn't that the responsibility of a king?"
Kanjuro shook his head, his face showing a kind of 'wise man's' pity and helplessness. "A king who is too kind-hearted and tries to satisfy everyone often ends up accomplishing nothing, or even causing a greater tragedy. The vision of ordinary people is limited; they cannot understand the heavy burden borne on a king's shoulders. If you try to do everything perfectly and satisfy everyone, the final result will only be to disappoint the majority and plunge the kingdom into chaos."
Artoria's brow furrowed as she listened intently. In her heart, Merlin's words were a beacon illuminating the mist. "Then... what should I do?"
Kanjuro sighed, as if speaking a cruel but necessary truth. "Sometimes, when dealing with affairs of state, you need to make choices. You must act with the mindset of sacrificing the few to satisfy and preserve the many. This is the king's responsibility, and also the king's... loneliness."
Artoria fell into deep thought, trying to understand these words. "So you mean, as a king, one sometimes cannot be indecisive and must put the overall interests of the country first, even if... it contradicts part of the chivalric code?" She keenly grasped the contradiction.
"Exactly." Kanjuro nodded with certainty, his eyes deep as if containing infinite wisdom. "A king and a knight are fundamentally different. A knight can intervene when seeing injustice and follow their inner moral compass to help the unfairness before their eyes. But a king is different; a king's gaze must be fixed upon the entire kingdom, and a king's decisions must be for the survival and well-being of the vast majority of the subjects. This requires sacrifice—sacrificing the small self, and even sacrificing the interests of a portion of the people, to achieve the greater self that protects the entire nation."
He watched the struggle flickering in Artoria's eyes and gave an example she couldn't refute, leading the conversation back to the decision that pained her: "This is just like how I know you are unwilling in your heart to marry someone you don't love, and even less willing to build a marriage on lies."
"However, you must do it. Because the King of Britain cannot be without heirs; the stability of the kingdom requires this banner. This is one of the 'heartless' burdens that being a king must bear."
Artoria fell completely silent. Merlin's words were like a key, attempting to open another door in her heart—a door that deviated from the chivalry she had always upheld, leading towards cold 'reality' and 'responsibility'.
She felt her convictions wavering as that 'guidance' from Merlin clashed violently with the principles deep within her. However, her total trust in Merlin and that heavy sense of mission to be responsible for the kingdom eventually made her forcibly suppress this sliver of discomfort and confusion. She nodded gently and leaned her head back into that seemingly warm embrace, as if only then could she draw the strength to keep moving forward, unaware that she was stepping onto a meticulously designed path that deviated from her true heart.
Moonlight, like liquid silver, spilled through the high windows into the quiet bedchamber of Camelot Castle. Kanjuro gently settled Artoria onto the bed covered with soft velvet blankets, his movements as meticulous as if he were handling a fragile treasure.
"Rest well tonight," his voice was low and soothing. "In any case, I will help you handle many things. But remember," he leaned down, his fingertips lightly touching her cheek as his deep gaze looked into her emerald eyes, "to become a qualified king, you must learn to be... heartless."
Artoria lay among the soft pillows and quilts, her golden hair spreading out and reflecting the moonlight like flowing gold. She did not feel fear because of the word 'heartless'; instead, she gazed foolishly at the face before her, hidden in the shadow of the hood yet incredibly familiar and kind. Years of dependence and trust had long since taken deep root, making her regard Merlin's words as gospel.
"Everything I have was given to me by you, Merlin." Her voice carried the haziness before sleep, yet clearly expressed her heart. "The throne, power, conviction... everything. But to me, no person and no thing is more important than you." She turned slightly, pressing her cheek closer to his hand that he hadn't yet fully withdrawn, like a young beast seeking comfort. "As long as you are by my side, I am not afraid of anything."
This total, almost blind trust was like a cup of the most mellow poisoned wine, making the dark sense of pleasure in Kanjuro's heart almost overflow. He watched as she slowly closed her eyes, her long eyelashes casting soft shadows beneath them. Holding the quilt, her breathing gradually became even and peaceful as she fell into a deep sleep.
Kanjuro did not leave immediately. He sat quietly on the edge of the bed, just as he had on countless nights in the past, gently stroking Artoria's golden hair over and over. His movements were tender and full of affection, perfectly overlapping with the image of the 'mentor' who taught the little girl in the forest. The moonlight outlined the silhouette of his black robe and Artoria's sleeping profile, forming an incredibly harmonious and warm scene.
However, beneath the surface of this warm scene, Kanjuro's heart was churning with completely different emotions. Looking at this trusting and peaceful sleeping face, an incredibly excited and expectant thought grew wildly in his mind:
(She trusts me so much right now, seeing me as her only reliance, the light of her life. But all these memories, this so-called 'warmth' and'salvation,' are built upon the lies and tampering I meticulously wove. When she... when this king of knights one day breaks free from her inner demons, or when I personally tear away this disguise and let her see the truth—let her realize that the Teacher Merlin she so deeply respects and absolutely trusts is actually the culprit Kanjuro, who defiled her kingly origin, manipulated her fate, and pushed her into one painful choice after another...)
(What expression will she have? Will those clear and steadfast emerald eyes instantly shatter into endless despair? Or will they ignite with a towering rage capable of incinerating everything? That ultimate contrast of falling from heaven to hell, that collapse of faith completely breaking down...)
Just imagining that scene caused a near-shuddering sense of excitement to almost burst through Kanjuro's chest. He looked forward to it too much—looking forward to seeing the poignant sight of this perfect 'work' being personally destroyed by him in the end.
But he took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the distorted smile that was about to appear on his face. Not yet, it was too early to be happy.
(It's not enough... far from enough.) He coldly admonished himself in his heart. (She hasn't yet tasted the ultimate despair. She hasn't been pushed to a true dead end, hasn't been personally shoved into the abyss by the person she trusts most in front of the chivalry and subjects she cherishes.)
He slowly withdrew his hand that was stroking her hair, his fingertips seemingly still retaining that false warmth. He stood up, his black robe falling silently. He took one last look at Artoria sleeping on the bed, the depths of his eyes filled with frozen calculation and waiting.
(King Arthur, my dear Artoria... continue to sleep peacefully in your beautiful dream. Before you completely step into the most magnificent abyss of despair I have prepared for you, feel free to... rely on me.)
He turned, his figure merging into the shadows as he silently left the bedchamber, leaving only the room full of cold moonlight illuminating the king of knights' unaware and peril-filled dream.
Under the subtle influence of Kanjuro's (Merlin's) governance philosophy of'sacrificing the small self for the greater self' and'satisfying the many with the few,' Artoria—King Arthur—began to apply these principles to the governance of the kingdom. She promulgated a series of decrees and policies aimed at strengthening central authority, rapidly accumulating national power, and improving military and economic efficiency.
From a macro perspective, these policies seemed highly effective. Britain's treasury grew daily, large-scale public works (such as roads and fortifications) were rapidly advanced, and the army's equipment and supplies were greatly improved. On the surface, the entire kingdom presented an unprecedentedly powerful posture, indeed much stronger than the impoverished, weak, and internally troubled Britain of the past, moving towards a seemingly glorious peak.
However, in the shadow of this 'prosperity' lay the groans and blood and tears of countless ordinary commoners. For the sake of the so-called 'big picture' and 'efficiency,' the basic rights of many individuals were heartlessly sacrificed. Heavy taxes were disproportionately placed on the commoner class, while nobles and wealthy merchants were often able to use policy loopholes or privileges to gain exemptions. Harsh laws, in order to maintain 'order,' imposed heavy penalties on commoners for minor offenses, while often turning a blind eye to the misdeeds of the powerful. When common laborers and land were requisitioned for national projects, the compensation given was minuscule or even forcibly taken, leaving many families displaced. The lives of the bottom-tier people did not improve because of the nation's'strength'; instead, they often had to struggle to survive while bowing and scraping to the powerful. A sense of deprivation and injustice quietly spread among the people, and they began to privately discuss and doubt whether their king, who once symbolized hope and justice, had changed. But the strength of the kingdom was visible to the naked eye, and this doubt and dissatisfaction appeared so weak before the powerful state machine, unable to change the trajectory of the roaring chariot of Britain.
This oppressive atmosphere also spread to the Knights of the Round Table, the highest hall of chivalry.
During a meeting of the Round Table, a discussion regarding several recent and obviously unfair policies sparked a heated argument. Lancelot, one of the chief knights renowned for his superb martial arts and upright character, could no longer suppress the anger and disappointment in his heart. He suddenly stood up from his seat and slammed a fist heavily onto the smooth surface of the Round Table, letting out a dull thud that drew the attention of the other knights.
"I don't understand! What on earth has happened to the King?!" Lancelot's voice trembled slightly with agitation, his handsome face filled with resentment and confusion. "Look at the policies we've been implementing lately! For the sake of cold legal clauses and so-called 'national order,' can even the most basic survival rights and fair treatment of citizens be stripped away at will?!"
His gaze swept over the colleagues present, hoping to find resonance. "Why should those hardworking commoners who provide for the entire kingdom have to be subservient to idle elites every day? Why are the taxes they pay heavier than those of the nobles who possess thousands of acres of fertile land and mountains of gold in their storehouses?! Is this the 'justice' we follow the King to uphold?!"
The atmosphere of the meeting instantly became heavy and awkward. Some knights looked sympathetic but didn't dare speak out; others frowned and remained silent. Lancelot's questioning was like a sharp knife, piercing the veil of harmony on the surface of the Round Table.
To settle this dispute, or rather, to better 'guide' them, someone invited the respected Court Mage—Merlin.
Kanjuro (Merlin) still maintained his detached appearance as he slowly walked into the meeting room. He listened as Lancelot agitatedly repeated his dissatisfaction and confusion, his face showing a timely expression of understanding mixed with a hint of helplessness.
He sighed softly, a sigh that seemed to carry all the burdens of the kingdom. "Sir Lancelot, I can understand your feelings." He spoke, his voice calm and carrying a soothing power. "You have a knightly heart that truly pities the people; this is very precious."
He walked to the Round Table, his gaze sweeping over everyone before landing on Lancelot, and began to articulate the rhetoric he had long prepared: "However, you must know that governing a vast kingdom is different from managing a manor or practicing individual chivalry. The kingdom needs to function, needs powerful strength to resist foreign enemies, and needs vast funds to build the future. The population of commoners is huge; if each person contributes a little, it aggregates into an astonishing force. Meanwhile, the noble class is relatively small in number, and maintaining their loyalty and stability also requires a certain... price. This is called accumulating much from little, bearing small losses for the sake of the greater good. Some sacrifices are made so that the broader populace can enjoy long-term peace and stability."
Listening to these seemingly reasonable but actually cold words, the anger on Lancelot's face did not fade; instead, he became even more unwilling. "But... but the King wasn't like this before!" he almost growled out, his eyes filled with nostalgia for the past king who was purer and more focused on fairness and morality. "She once taught us that a knight's duty is to protect the weak and uphold justice! These current policies run counter to our creed!"
Kanjuro (Merlin) stepped forward and reached out, gently pressing a hand onto Lancelot's still-tense shoulder, transmitting a power that seemed soothing but contained an invisible pressure.
"Lancelot, calm down." His voice was even gentler, yet it also carried an unquestionable authority. "The situation and considerations the King faces are far more complex than what we see. Every decision she makes must have its deep meaning and unavoidable difficulties. What we must do is trust her."
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