"…I see now. So that is my purpose, right?"
Clara's tone was flat, as if she had come to a logical conclusion rather than an emotional realization. Her crimson eyes blinked once.
Then, twice as she continues speaking.
"Then, do you wish to be my king, maître?"
Adam tilted his head, caught somewhere between amusement and curiosity. There was no hesitation in her voice. No dramatic pause. She simply asked, as if offering to hand him a cup of tea.
"…You know what? Yeah. That doesn't sound too bad."
Said Adam.
To which Clara then began to raise her head and looked at him, and replied back saying.
"Then I shall serve under your rule, my maître."[1]
Clara announced as she kept her knees bent, her posture fixed as she re-knew her knight vows under a new crown. Her declaration held no passion nor fervor.
Neither was there any fanfare, much less debate. All there was in this moment was simple obedience, delivered like a statement of fact.
