No matter how much he steeled himself for it, when Artoria stepped away from him, leaving his hand where it had held her cheek, his heart sank. Perhaps, in a similar way, Merlin wanted to be forgiven, no matter how much he told himself he didn't deserve it. His arm fell by his side, resigning himself to Artoria's judgement. There was no anger in her voice, but her words stung sharper than ever. The Magus of Flowers kept his back to her, his gaze turned downward in recollection of Camelot. Of Galahad, of Amara. The Knights of Round. "They all chose to follow you, Artoria. Even the children of Lancelot. I guided them, but their life was truly theirs. Your path, your life... even before you were born, it was decided." the incubus said solemnly, the mere act of giving voice to such thoughts weighing on his heart. "I don't favour individuals. So long as mankind reaches a happy ending, that's enough. That is the principle I have lived by for my centuries-long life." he said resolutely, looking past the canopy and into the starlit sky. "Perhaps it is love. Perhaps that's why you're the exception to the one thing I truly believe in. Even after all this time, you continue to shine brighter than everything else."