On the outskirts of Camelot, beside an open riding ground.
"Wake up! Wake up already!"
The shout exploding beside his ears, along with the waves of dizziness growing stronger in his mind, jolted Samael awake. He opened his eyes involuntarily.
As the cold sensation instantly roused his muddled consciousness, Samael discovered to his horror that his head was clamped between a pair of armored hands and being shaken back and forth, up and down.
After his unfocused eyes rolled around for a good while, his vision finally stabilized. His cute little face had been squeezed out of shape, and he twitched his facial muscles as he gave a dry reminder.
"Mordred, stop shaking me..."
"Tch. Didn't you say you'd come see what I've learned today?"
The rebellious knight before him, clad in silver-white armor with her hair tied into a short ponytail, raised an eyebrow and questioned him with a soft snort.
"What I've learned? What have you learned?"
Samael froze and asked instinctively.
"Riding lessons! Riding lessons, you idiot!"
Mordred repeated indignantly, unable to resist kneading that little face which made people want to destroy it.
"Stop, stop, stop! I remember now! I remember!"
The familiar dizziness surged back, and Samael hurriedly grabbed those outrageous paws, stopping this brat who had no sense of restraint.
"We agreed that I'd sneak you out here, and you'd watch how good my riding had become. But the moment we got here, before I'd even made two laps on horseback, you stuck yourself to a chair and immediately fell asleep! Is my riding really that boring?"
Mordred resentfully lowered her hands from tormenting his little head, sat down beside him, and grumbled with a displeased expression.
Ask your mother!
Samael rolled his eyes, recalling his experiences over the past half month and feeling