Later that night, the campfire crackled softly, casting a warm, flickering glow around the clearing. Jackal was off to the side, absorbed in his own world as he practiced his movements, his small frame moving through a series of quick, precise strikes and blocks. Homura watched him from nearby, bored and annoyed.

Artemis sat by the fire, seemingly unbothered by the events of earlier as she flipped through her journal, the pages lit by the fire's glow. She looked completely disengaged, flipping through the pages with an air of calm detachment, as if nothing around her was worth noticing. She was deeply focused, her expression calm, almost relaxed, until she sensed movement from the edge of the camp.

She looked up, eyes narrowing as Ciel finally reappeared, his face shadowed and tense as he approached the fire. Perched on his shoulder, Sereia took one look at Artemis, crossed her tiny arms, and turned her head with an exaggerated "hmph," her wings fluttering in disdain.

Artemis barely looked up, her expression cold and distant. "Done sulking?"

Ciel's face darkened, and he shot her a glare that could have ignited the fire twice over. "I wasn't sulking," he replied sharply. "I just needed a moment away from your... charming company."

"Really? Looked a lot like sulking from here." She said looking down at her journal again.

"I wasn't sulking" he said again, his tone darkening.

Sereia let out a tinkling chime of what was clearly an angry tirade, her arms still crossed as she glared at Artemis with a tiny, fierce pout.

Artemis just gave a casual shrug, clearly unfazed. "Suit yourself. But if you're done pouting about the reality of things, maybe we can actually get something done tonight."

Ciel exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. "I wasn't the one wasting time, Artemis. Unlike some people here, I actually care about whether the others make it out alive."

Artemis let out a soft, unimpressed sigh, turning back to her journal. "Of course you do," she muttered. "Some people can't help but play hero."

Ciel clenched his fists but said nothing, and instead sat down on the opposite side of the fire. The silence that fell over them was thick with tension, each holding their own ground, unwilling to bridge the growing divide.

She watched him from the corner of her eyes, watching him plop himself on the opposite of her on the other side of the campfire. She spoke again, her voice was blunt, almost monotone. "Good that you understand. I'd hate for the 'reality' of things to ruin your night."

Ciel's mouth twisted, irritation clear in his eyes. He took a step closer, unwilling to drop it. "Reality," he repeated. "You mean your complete disregard for anyone else's life?"

Artemis looked up; her gaze sharp but devoid of any emotion. "Yes, reality," she replied flatly. "People die. People get left behind. That's the world we live in, whether you want to admit it or not."

Sereia let out a string of angry chimes from Ciel's shoulder, her tiny face red with fury. But Artemis didn't even blink. She was done with explanations, done with arguments, done with the endless idealism Ciel seemed to expect from everyone around him.

Ciel clenched his fists, clearly fighting to keep his voice steady. "I guess that's easy to say when it's not your life on the line."

Artemis met his gaze, her expression utterly blank. "Believe what you want." Her tone was icy, uninterested. She looked back at her journal, as if he were nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

Artemis flipped through the pages of her journal, deliberately minding her own business as the silence stretched around the campfire. But her eyes drifted up, and she found herself caught by the glow of the flames reflecting in Ciel's gaze. He sat across from her, shoulders tense, his jaw set, and yet there was a certain vulnerability to the way he stared into the fire, as though lost in thought. The light flickered across his face, illuminating his sharp features, handsome, undeniably, in the way his expression held a quiet strength, even in defeat.

Artemis's gaze lingered, studying the way the white of his tunic clung to his broad shoulders, the subtle strength hinted beneath the fabric. He looked like someone who carried weight on those shoulders, a sense of purpose that even the coldest setbacks couldn't shake. When he glanced up, his blue eyes caught hers, cold and unyielding, hardened from whatever he'd been thinking.

She didn't break her gaze, her own expression as detached and unyielding as his. After a moment, she spoke, her tone as calm and distant as ever.

"What are they to you...Ralph and Rebecca?" she asked quietly, each word precise. "What makes them worth so much that you'd ask me to save them?"

Ciel glanced at her, caught off guard by the suddenness of her question. He hesitated, his gaze drifting to the fire, where the flames cast fleeting shadows over his face. For a moment, it seemed he might dismiss her, but then he exhaled slowly, choosing to answer.

"Ralph and Rebecca..." He paused, as if trying to find the right words. "Well Ralph isn't someone I work with in the Dragon's barracks" he began, his voice low but steady.

Artemis raised an eyebrow, watching him with a calculating gaze. She didn't interrupt, waiting for him to explain.

"We were both orphans," Ciel continued, his voice softening as he spoke. "I was barely surviving when he found me. Starving, cold, with nothing to my name. Ralph came out of nowhere with this little loaf of bread he'd stolen. He was probably just as hungry as I was, but he split it with me without a second thought." A faint smile crossed his face, touched with both bitterness and fondness.

"He always looked out for me," Ciel continued, his voice a touch rougher. "Protected me from the people who wanted to hurt us, sheltered me when no one else would. We swore an oath to each other—brothers by choice, if not by blood. He's been my family for as long as I can remember." He paused, his jaw tightening. "I don't expect you to understand that kind of bond, but I'd do anything to keep him safe."

Artemis listened in silence, watching as his gaze turned inward, memories reflected in the blue of his eyes.

The assassin's gaze remained steady, but something flickered behind her eyes as she absorbed his words. "So, he saved your life," she murmured, almost to herself.

Ciel nodded, his voice growing rougher as he continued. "He's always been the one to protect me. He shielded me from people who'd hurt us, made sure we had enough to eat, kept us both alive. I don't expect you to understand, but... I owe him everything."

Artemis was silent, her expression unreadable. But for a moment, her mind drifted back to her own brother, to the years they'd spent surviving together, to the promise they'd made to each other. She hadn't realized how much Ralph and Ciel's bond echoed her own past, and it unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

"And Rebecca?" she asked, her voice sharp, pulling herself back to the present.

Ciel's face softened further. "Rebecca is a friend I made at the Dragon Barracks. She's... stubborn, loyal. One of the few people I've ever been able to trust in a place like that. She didn't have to stand with us, but she did. I don't want her paying the price for doing the right thing."

Artemis folded her arms, considering this. "So, they're both worth risking your life over," she said flatly. "Even if it puts you in the middle of all this."

"They aren't just some 'strangers' to me, Artemis. They've been with me through everything. More than friends—they're family. And they risked everything for Demarcus, for something they believed in, even knowing it would put them in danger."

She tilted her head slightly, absorbing his words with a cold, calculated detachment. "So, loyalty, then?" she asked. "You owe them something because they're loyal to you?"

Ciel's eyes flickered with frustration, but he kept his voice steady. "No. It's not about 'owing.' It's about respect. They've earned it a hundred times over. I don't expect you to understand... but some people are worth fighting for, worth risking everything for, even if it makes no sense."

Artemis's gaze remained steady, her expression unreadable. "And you expect me to risk my life for your loyalty to them?"

Ciel's mouth tightened, his gaze steady and unflinching. "If I thought you'd understand, I wouldn't have to ask."

"So," she said quietly, "they're the only family you've known."

Ciel's gaze hardened, and he turned back to meet her eyes. "Yes. Family I chose. And I won't abandon them, no matter the cost."

For a moment, the silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken understanding. Artemis looked away, her gaze drifting back to her journal, the firelight flickering across her face. She didn't respond, but she didn't argue, either. She was quiet for a long moment, processing his words. She'd built her life on survival, on cold calculation, on knowing when to leave people behind. And yet... a small part of her understood, more than she wanted to. Ralph and Ciel were like her and Daisuke, in a way. She sighed, rubbing her temple in reluctant frustration.

"Why is it always me dealing with people's bullshit" she had mumbled in Japanese which had Ciel raising an eyebrow and tilting his head curiously at the unknown foreign language she spoke.

"Fine," she muttered finally, her voice a touch sharper than before. "I'll help you get them out. But understand this: if things go south, I'm not sticking around to play hero. I'll get them out if I can, but I'm not saving anyone who can't keep up. You get one shot."

Ciel looked at her, a hint of surprise and gratitude in his gaze. "Thank you, Artemis," he said quietly, his tone sincere. "I know you didn't have to—"

"Spare me the gratitude," she cut him off, her voice cold and dismissive. "Just be ready to go when the time comes."

They locked eyes, a quiet understanding settling between them. Despite her bluntness, she knew exactly what she was agreeing to—and so did he.

Artemis took a deep breath, her mind already piecing together the steps of the plan as she spoke. "Alright." She began, changing the topic to the plan. "Jackal mentioned we have two days before the execution. That gives us a day to prepare, and another to carry out the actual escape. I need at least one day to circle the area, map out the palace and prison entrances, and scout out the guards' rotation schedules. Knowing the layout and the ins and outs will be critical to getting in and out without attracting attention."

Jackal's ears perked up and he stopped training as he moved closer to them. Homura just yawned and laid his head on his paws.

Ciel nodded, listening intently, the firelight reflecting in his focused gaze. "Agreed. That'll help us figure out the escape routes—and hopefully avoid triggering an all-out alert."

Artemis nodded, her expression cold and calculating. "I can handle the recon, but the prison isn't the only problem. We'll need access to wherever they're holding Demarcus. That might mean going deeper into the royal grounds."

"I know where they holding him" the orange haired keeper said.

"That makes it easier I guess."

"Yes but" Ciel hesitated for a moment before he spoke, his voice steady but carrying a hint of apprehension. "We can't do this alone. As much as I hate involving them, I know some people who might be able to help from the inside."

Artemis raised an eyebrow, sceptical. "You think I can't get in on my own?"

"It's not about your skill," Ciel replied, shaking his head. "It's about minimising risk. If you're caught inside, there's no plan left. My friends from the Dragon Barracks know people who work inside the palace, and they've spent years learning every corner of that place. They can get us access, know where the guards are positioned, and even coordinate small diversions if we need them."

Artemis considered this, her gaze scrutinizing him. "And you're willing to risk their lives to pull this off? If they're caught, it's treason."

Ciel's face tightened, but he met her gaze with steady resolve. "I know. And believe me, I'd rather keep them out of this. But if it's between their help or leaving Demarcus, Ralph and Rebecca to die, I'll take the risk. They're good people, and they'll understand...I hope" he muttered the last line silently.

She folded her arms, her expression doubtful. "I'll believe it when I see it. If they can actually help us get in without complications, it would save me the trouble of doing all the reconnaissance myself." She paused, her voice cold but thoughtful. "But if they get in the way or falter, I'm out. I'm not babysitting anyone who's half in or half out of this."

Ciel gave a short nod. "Understood. I'll make sure they know what's at stake. And if you're worried about hesitation, don't be. They're not the type to falter once they're committed."

Artemis sighed, her gaze turning back to the fire as she weighed her options. It wasn't her ideal way of handling things—she preferred minimal involvement, fewer unknowns. But she couldn't deny that having people who knew the palace inside and out might speed up the process.

"Fine," she said at last, her tone reluctant. "Bring them in. But make it clear—if anyone hesitates, they're out, no questions asked. We can't afford second-guessing."

Ciel's expression softened with a mixture of relief and determination. "Thank you, Artemis. I'll gather them by morning, and we can finalise the details from there."

She gave him a curt nod, already running through the logistics in her mind, calculating each step with precision. There was no room for error—and if Ciel's allies could help make that happen, she'd take the risk. But as always, she'd keep her eye on the exit, ready to act on her own terms if things didn't go according to plan.

Ciel glanced over at Artemis, his gaze thoughtful. "We'll head to the Dragon Barracks early tomorrow, before dawn. Fewer people awake means fewer eyes on us. We can slip in from the back entrance without attracting attention. Xavior forgets to close the back entrance whenever he comes back drunk at night." As much as it used angered everyone in the barracks that Xavior always forget to close it which had high risks of thieves or bandits breaking in to steal the dragon eggs but now Ciel is grateful for it, they could sneak through the forgotten locked entrance.

Artemis nodded; her expression focused.

While they finalised the plan, Jackal, who had stopped training and quietly listened in on their discussion, sat down beside the fire with a freshly cooked fish in hand. He tore off pieces, chewing thoughtfully as he processed everything. Homura, however, was fast asleep on his back by the fire, his small paws flopped in the air, and his tongue hanging out in an undignified manner.

Ciel looked at the fox and raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Artemis. "Does he always sleep like that?"

Artemis let out a faint sigh, her gaze drifting toward Homura's sprawled, dramatic pose. "Yes," she muttered under her breath, a note of exasperation in her tone. "Stupid Fox" she mutters.

Jackal snickered around a mouthful of fish, clearly amused by the little fox's antics. "He's just tired from all the excitement, right?" he said, defending the fox with a smirk.

Artemis just rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly as she returned her attention to the plan. "If he's as dramatic tomorrow, I'll leave him here."

Jackal, his cheeks puffed with campfire-cooked fish, looked up with curious eyes, his chewing slowing as he absorbed the plan. He swallowed, licking his fingers and asking in a tone of innocent curiosity, "So... how are we getting into the palace, then? Are we sneaking past the guards or...?"

Artemis shot him a flat look. "Depends on the situations and how we plan our movements." She explained. "You'll find out tomorrow. But right now, go to sleep, Jackal. The last thing we need is you half-awake and stumbling into trouble."

Jackal blinked, his face stilling for a second, then he let out a small yawn, nodding in agreement as he wiped his hands on his cloak. "Fine, fine. I'll save my questions." He crawled over to his sleeping spot, and within minutes, he was fast asleep, his breathing deep and even as he drifted off without a care in the world.

Artemis turned to Ciel, who was still by the fire, his gaze lingering on the flames. "You should get some rest, too," she said, her voice low and practical. "I'll keep first watch."

Ciel nodded, lying down on the ground with his hands folded behind his head. He stared up at the night sky, his mind occupied with the plan and with Artemis. Her quiet, detached presence at the edge of the campfire drew his gaze, and he found himself watching her as she unsheathed her katana and began cleaning it with meticulous care. She was focused, her movements steady, her expression unreadable as she ran a cloth down the length of the blade.

For a moment, Ciel felt his heartbeat quicken, surprised by the simple beauty of the scene before him. Even in her cold detachment, there was a calm power to her. Her face, serious and intent as she worked, caught the glow of the firelight, casting soft shadows across her features. Diana's body was beautiful, he couldn't deny that but it was Artemis's presence that gave it a new, almost mesmerizing strength.

He found himself wondering about her life before all this. She seemed so different from anyone he'd ever know, someone who could change her mind or shift her stance with just the right logic or reason, but always on her own terms. It made him think that her coldness, her guarded nature, had a purpose. Maybe she'd been born into a world where cruelty was survival, where being detached and guarded was the only way to stay safe.

He wondered what it would be like to see her smile. A real smile, one not laced with sarcasm or indifference, but genuine. He couldn't even imagine it, but a part of him was curious.

He shook his head slightly, scolding himself. Focus, Ciel, he thought. There was too much at stake to dwell on the mysteries of Artemis Ray. But even as he closed his eyes, trying to drift off to sleep, the image of her, lit by the fire as she cleaned her blade, lingered in his mind, unsettling him in a way he hadn't expected. He opened his eyes again and met with the dark yet stary night of Aureum.

He couldn't help but marvel at the way a person's spirit could shape beauty itself. Diana had always been beautiful, yes, but he'd never been able to see it through the layers of vanity and cruelty that had always surrounded her like a shroud.

He remembered the first time he'd seen Diana Glacies, years ago. He and John had been allowed onto the Glacies estate to help with an injured dragon. Diana had drifted by in her elaborate gown, tossing commands at servants with little regard, her eyes sharp with disdain. There was no trace of warmth, only a smug entitlement that seemed to eclipse whatever loveliness her features might have held. And though she was the daughter of the beloved Mariana, Diana had been nothing like her mother. Something that had struck him with an unexpected pang of disappointment.

But now... now, with Artemis occupying that same body, he found himself seeing Diana's face in an entirely different light. Artemis's presence gave Diana's beauty a sharpness, a refreshing boldness that he hadn't thought possible. Her blunt, often biting personality contrasted with the body she inhabited, lending it an intensity that was somehow captivating. She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that, it was the way she seemed to wear that beauty, uninterested, unbothered, making it her own without any thought to how others saw her. There was no pretence, no manipulation. She was simply... Artemis.

And it was mesmerizing.

Ciel glanced over again, watching her fingers glide along the edge of her katana with practiced ease. Her face was set in calm concentration, the firelight highlighting her features in soft, dancing shadows. She was strong, fierce, distant and it only made the quiet moments she allowed herself, like now, seem even more striking.

In a way, he found himself grateful that Artemis was now in this body. She gave Diana's beauty a new life, a soul that made it bearable to look at, even admirable. With Artemis's fierce independence and unapologetic honesty, Diana's once-empty beauty had transformed into something radiant and alive.

He caught himself staring, then quickly looked away, embarrassed at the thought that had crossed his mind. You're here to save your friends, Ciel, he reminded himself, forcing his gaze back to the stars. But even as he tried to refocus, he couldn't shake the sense of fascination he felt, a reluctant admiration for a woman who had shown him a strength that went beyond appearances.

As he lay there, Ciel couldn't help but wonder if the real Diana had ever had even a hint of that strength buried somewhere deep inside, or if it had taken someone like Artemis, a woman born in a different world, shaped by fire and shadows, to finally bring that beauty into the light.

As Ciel lay beside the fire, his face softened in the quiet glow, Artemis couldn't help but steal a glance at him. He looked different when he was relaxed, his usually sharp features softened by the warmth of the firelight. There was a calmness about him that she hadn't expected to see, a quiet, almost unguarded side that made him seem... almost peaceful.

For a brief moment, she found herself admiring him, taking in the quiet strength in his face, the way he seemed completely lost in thought as he gazed up at the sky. It was rare to find anyone who looked at ease in this world, and something about it drew her in, fascinated her, even.

But then, as her gaze lingered, her heart gave an unexpected twinge, and the memory of another face crept into her mind, unbidden. Itami. Her heart clenched, the ache of that name and what it meant still raw, still painful.

Itami had often looked at the sky that way, lying beside her in those rare, stolen moments of peace. She'd loved him for that soft side, the part of him that seemed at ease, as though nothing in the world could touch them. Those moments, those stolen glances and whispered promises, had made her believe he was hers, that she was his. But in the end, Itami's betrayal had been as sharp and deadly as any blade. He'd turned on her, taken her life and every shred of trust she'd placed in him. Yet, even now, she couldn't completely erase him from her mind.

Why can't I just forget him? she thought bitterly. He's a traitor. He doesn't deserve my thoughts, my memories. But her heart wouldn't listen, refusing to obey the cold logic she tried so hard to impose on herself. The wound he'd left was still too fresh, and as much as she'd tried to bury it under layer upon layer of focus and control, moments like this brought it all rushing back. The quiet, the stillness, the calm... they all reminded her of him, of the times she'd once felt safe.

Now, staring at Ciel's calm, distant expression, she felt that same ache in her chest, like a phantom pain she couldn't banish. Her life in this world had been so fast paced, so full of constant motion and danger, that she'd barely had a moment to stop and think. These past months had been nothing more than distractions piled on top of each other. But now, in this quiet moment by the fire, the pain resurfaced, and she felt herself vulnerable to the memory of Itami once again.

It was ridiculous, she knew. This was Ciel, a dragon keeper from a different world entirely. And yet, watching him, she felt the weight of her heartbreak settle over her like a shadow, the bitter reminder that her heart hadn't truly healed.

Artemis swallowed, tearing her gaze away from Ciel and back to her katana, gripping the hilt a little too tightly. I'm not here to dwell on ghosts, she reminded herself, as if repeating it enough would finally make it true. Her gaze lingered back unable to turn away as if it was hoping to see him again. She couldn't shake the feeling that, no matter how much she tried to bury it, some part of her would never be able to forget the man who'd broken her heart.

Ciel felt Artemis's gaze on him, and he turned his head, catching her in the act. Their eyes met, locked in silence, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of something in her expression—a guarded intensity, a trace of something vulnerable beneath that cold exterior. It was a look he knew too well; one he'd seen before in others who carried wounds they refused to share.

He however thought it would be funny to lighten the mood with his snarky jabs at the cold and distant noble lady.

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he couldn't resist. "What's this?" he teased, his tone light. "You falling for me already? Or just admiring the view?"

Artemis gave him a deadpan look, her face completely devoid of humour. "Neither" she replied flatly. "I was observing. It's how I get to know people I'm forced to work with."

Ciel raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he leaned back a little. "Oh, really? Is that what you call admiring someone now? Just 'observing'? or is an excuse to hide that your admiring"

Her gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "No." she said firmly. "It's not an excuse. It what I do. I keep tabs on a variable. It's called strategy, not admiration. Some of us actually think things through before charging into trouble."

Ciel chuckled, clearly amused by her response. The sound was light, almost carefree, and it only seemed to deepen her irritation. "Strategy, huh? I didn't realize strategy included long, silent stares." He shrugged, still smirking. "But whatever you say, My lady."

Artemis's eye twitched with irritation, and she shot him a sharp glare. "Shut it."

But Ciel only chuckled again, and the firelight danced in his eyes, an unspoken playfulness that seemed to deflect her barbs with ease. He was getting under her skin, and he knew it and judging by the glint in his eye, he enjoyed it a little too much.

Artemis exhaled sharply, clenching her jaw, and turned her gaze back to her katana, pretending to be absorbed in the details of her weapon. But Ciel's quiet laughter lingered in the air, and she could feel his gaze on her, a quiet, irritating warmth that made her feel far more exposed than she was comfortable with.

Ciel grew silent, his smirk fading as he looked at her thoughtfully. After a moment, he broke the quiet, his voice softer, more genuine. "So... your world. What was it like?"

Artemis didn't miss a beat, her expression deadpan as she muttered, "It's shit."

Ciel raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her bluntness. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes," she replied coldly. "Now shut up and go to sleep. Or I might resort to something more violent to make sure you do." Her hand hovered over her katana in mock threat. "It wouldn't be the first time I knocked someone out for less."

Ciel chuckled, his grin returning. "Understood, point taken. I'll keep my questions to myself."

But as he lay back down, he found himself even more intrigued. She was a puzzle. One wrapped in layers of sarcasm, bluntness, and barbed words. And as much as she tried to deflect, her world, her past, and that distant look in her eyes only made him wonder more about the woman who'd ended up here, fighting alongside them... or rather, in spite of them.

"Good night, Artemis," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, though he kept his gaze on the stars.

Artemis didn't respond immediately, her focus seemingly back on her katana. She ran the cloth down the blade with deliberate precision, but her eyes flickered briefly toward him, watching as he settled into his makeshift bed by the fire. His relaxed position, the calm rise and fall of his chest as he stared at the sky, reminded her too much of someone she'd been trying to forget.

Itami.

The memory hit her like a sudden chill, and her fingers tightened around the hilt of her blade. It was uncanny, the way Ciel's casual, almost peaceful posture mirrored Itami's. The way his gaze softened as he lost himself in thought, the same ease with which he wore his strength—it was all too familiar.

Her heart ached, the wound still fresh, no matter how much she told herself it was closed. She had spent months throwing herself into distractions, into survival, refusing to let herself think about the man who had killed her, who had betrayed her in the cruellest way possible. Yet now, in these quiet moments, when the chaos had stilled, Itami's shadow returned to haunt her.

She gritted her teeth, forcing her focus back to her blade, but her mind refused to quiet. She hated that she couldn't forget him. Hated that even after all he'd done, some part of her still felt the sting of his betrayal like it had happened yesterday. Why can't I let him go? she thought bitterly. He's a traitor. He doesn't deserve my memories.

But her heart didn't listen.

It never did.

Ciel stirred slightly, turning his head in her direction. His blue eyes caught the glow of the firelight as he gazed at her, the amusement from earlier now replaced with curiosity. "Do you ever sleep?"

Artemis snapped out of her thoughts, her expression hardening as she met his gaze. "Yes, but not when I've got idiots to keep an eye on," she replied, her tone colder than she intended.

Ciel chuckled softly, though there was a hint of concern in his voice. "You can't keep going like that forever, you know."

"I'll sleep when I need to," she shot back, turning her attention to her blade. "Now shut up and go to sleep before I decide to knock you out myself."

Ciel raised an eyebrow, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Threats before bedtime? How charming."

Her eye twitched in irritation. "I'm serious."

"Alright, alright." He put up his hands in mock surrender, turning back to the sky with a small laugh. "Good night, Artemis."

"I'll wake you up when its your turn to take watch" Artemis said.

"Yes...My lady"