Leonel felt a complex swell of emotions when he saw Guinevere. Those eyes... That day when he fell into an illusion of Dream Force, causing his long-forgotten memories to resurface, he had seen them before.
Mordred wasn't sure what to say or do. She wasn't nearly as emotional as Guinevere, but she also wasn't indifferent. She was caught in an odd in-between, a mixture of awkwardness and hesitancy coloring her usually confident, womanly demeanor.
Guinevere shook her head, seemingly realizing that she had lost control of her emotions. She quickly composed herself, her tears drifting away from her cheeks in a magical sort of way. But, there was nothing she could do about the redness of her eyes. They acted like a constant reminder of the emotions she had just displayed.
"Welcome to Camelot, please come with me."
The Queen bowed lightly, regaining a professional air. However, anyone who knew about diplomatic relations between countries, kingdoms or empires would be wholly aware that something like a monarch bowing to another would never happen. Such a thing would be like a power admitting its inferiority to another.
It was clear that Guinevere wasn't a fool who didn't understand these simple and obvious customs. She acted not only out of emotion, but also so that she could let Mordred and the others know that she would stand by them.
To Guinevere, in comparison to the Kingdom, her daughter was worth far more. It didn't matter to her that Mordred was already a woman of over 40 years old. To a mother, her daughter would always be her little girl.
Guinevere rose from her bow, her back straightening to exude the elegance of a Queen. With a light smile, she turned and began to lead them all forward.
From her back view alone, one could sense her strength and resolve.
Mordred blankly stared at her mother's back for a long time. She had expected either cold indifference or a flood of apology. But, she ended up receiving neither. And, somehow, this put her more at peace than anything else ever could.
"Empress..." Crakos' deep voice snapped Mordred out of her stupor.
"... Yes." Mordred nodded and moved forward, her gait steady and even paced as she followed after her mother.
Leonel was about to move to follow as well when he suddenly realized that Aina hadn't moved from start to finish.
Aina stood in a daze, her fists clenched. She had come here to battle, she had never expected for things to boil down to a negotiation and she had definitely not expected to run into such a scene.
Though Aina always blushed profusely when he confessed, whenever they were interacting normally, she didn't seem off put by him at all. In fact, she had always been the only one who seemed to ignore how serious he got when he took tests or exams.
"What?" Aina looked toward Leonel, realizing that he was looking toward her.
Leonel grinned. "Nothing, you just look nice."
In return for his flattery, Leonel received a glare.
"Be more serious, we're almost there." She said softly.
Leonel felt a tingling sensation in his back hearing her voice. He swore Aina's various inflections were a lethal weapon. He didn't know if his compliment made her reply softer, but what he did know was that it was foul play.
Seeing that Leonel was in a daze, Aina tugged on his robes and pulled him forward. The others had long since entered the meeting room.
Leonel smiled lightly and let Aina pull him along.
When they entered the space, they found a well-furnished royal court.
There was a throne at the head and a long narrow walkway that splintered off into several seating arrangements. There were, obviously, reserved seating for Mordred, Leonel and the others. But, what was surprising was that there was another set of reserved seating.
In fact, this reserved seating was already filled.
The moment Leonel and Aina's gazes swept through the room, their killing intent erupted at the same time.
The already silent room was suddenly infused with the rage of two. The familiar red hair and red eyes could never be mistaken.
It was a member of the Brazinger family.