The only thing she remembers is blood, not even her own name.
Waking up in a strange house in a 'far-off' land, Arturia Pendragon cannot remember a single thing of her past life, luckily she is found just in time to be able to keep on living. With...
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Arturia did not fail to put the drop of the pink solution as advised. The beauty that had given her the vile seemed to pop into her mind quite a bit. It was a wonder to her how someone could be so beautiful. She was amazingly gorgeous and even her messy hair seemed soft to the touch. Her mind wandered a little more as she placed the cup of tea on the table in front of Diarmuid who was rubbing his face every now and again.
Diarmuid gave her a small nod and a smile, "Thank you," he acknowledged as he wrapped his hands around the mug to warm them up. His hair was still messy and he was yawning every now and again, but he seemed well rested so Arturia did not push it any further than that.
She returned the kind gesture and then sat next to him on the table, "You look much better," she mumbled, "which is why I think we are able to keep moving so that we could get to the coast in a few days." She had actually wondered why it had taken them such a long time when they would probably be in Logres by now. But she guessed it was because of all the interruptions that they had had.
His soft smile faded as he brought the tea to his lips, "I guess so," he mumbled before taking a sip, "as milady commands."
"We've come a long way, do you not think so, my fair knight?" Arturia leaned her head on her hand and yawned.
"Have we?" He turned to her, feeling as the warmth of the liquid ran down his aching throat.
Her green eyes were fixed on the small window in front of her and she then looked down at her tea, "Yes, we have." Her head gave a small nod and she looked down again, "I almost ran a poker through your heart and now we are sitting here in this inn and drinking tea next to one another as you call me your master and I call you my knight."
He took another sip at his tea and nodded slowly, "Yes, now that you point it out, it does feel like a long time since you tried to kill me and run off," he chuckled.
"That was because I thought you were the one that—"
"Mhm, so you let the rules of chivalry slip you by." He had a sweet and playful smile on his lips, almost teasing.
She rolled her eyes and pushed his tea closer to him, "Drink up,"
"I do not like chamomile..." He made a short disgusted face, "I prefer wine."
"Wine?" She heard him sniffle, "Wine is not going to help you get over the cold, now drink the tea."
"Then we can have some wine later?"
"Yes, but not when you are ill."
Diarmuid chuckled and then gave her a small smirk, "but I am safe enough to travel, I think that a goblet of wine is really not going to do me bad."
"Are you an alcoholic?" Her eyes widened as she furrowed her brows, there was an accusing look in her eyes and she almost seemed hostile as if she was thinking to run a poker through his heart again.
