Mordred’s face twisted into the same kind of expression a normal person might give when faced with a steaming pile of dung sitting in the middle of the sidewalk they were walking on, and it was upwind. Still, it slowly faded into a more neutral look as he considered her words, and for a while he was silent, staring at the ceiling with a small frown on his lips.
“Huh. I dunno if I like it, Rii. Tryin’ to be someone’s friend on the surface an’ then stabbin’ ‘em in the back like that don’t sit too well with me. Feels like somethin’ Morgan would try ta do, an’, well…”
A frustrated sigh, the Knight of Treachery letting his face lean into her hands.
“It just don’t feel right is all. How about takin’ over Albion - er, Britain? I’m guessin’ it ain’t as simple as beatin’ up the current King or Queen for the crown anymore, is it?”
“Politics indeed.”
Her face mimics his distaste; her knack for playing parts and saying what people want to hear is a natural one, but not a preferred one. Still, her advice was asked and damned if she won’t give it to the best of her ability, especially to her favored Servant.
(She feels bad even thinking it, but it’s a known fact by now.)
“Hate to tell you, Mokkun, but that’s just how it is. You don’t have to like someone to cooperate with them-- that much is obvious just from being here, isn’t it? So long as there’s a common end, the means being cooperation become... bearable, at best. Necessary, at the very least. A good ruler has to be able to set themselves aside, now and again, for the nation. Though always try and keep what the people want in mind.”
Her expression softens to a warm, if slightly bemused smile, and she says, somewhat thoughtfully:
“Why would you want to do that? No offense, but... Albion just isn’t what it used to be, you know.”
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
baratheonpilled
izzy806
areudirty
origamiaround
kianamaiart
