"Then, see you tomorrow, Lord Rei!"
Arthur clasped her hands in front of her knees and gave a deep, serious bow.
"I hope… to see you there tomorrow!"
Without waiting for Rei's response, she dashed away in a flash.
By running off before she could hear his reply, she ensured that she could spend the night looking forward to tomorrow with hope.
It was a little trick only a girl of Arthur's age would think of.
But to Rei, such tricks were unnecessary—he would decide for himself what to do.
[You settled the bill and left the tavern under the watchful eyes of its patrons.]
[You returned to the royal court.]
[You entered the room you shared with Morgan.]
[This was the time you had agreed upon.]
Morgan stood by the window, gazing out at the landscape beyond.
The moonlight reflected in her eyes like a serene lake, deep and luminous.
The sheer fabric draping her body was illuminated in soft silver, accentuating the elegant curve of her chest and the slenderness of her waist.
And Rei was the only one allowed to witness this sight.
"Lady Morgan."
At the sound of Rei's voice, Morgan turned around.
Upon seeing the captivated look in his eyes, a small, knowing smile curled at her lips.
With her long, graceful fingers, she pinched the lace trim of her thin veil at her shoulder, tugging it down just slightly, revealing her pearl-white skin, smooth as dewdrops.
"Rei, come here."
"I wish to spend tonight's pleasure by the window."
"As you wish, Lady Morgan."
Rei stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, his hands crossing at her stomach as he pulled her into his embrace.
"Rei, Am I beautiful?" She let down her hair and asked softly.
"Lady Morgan, you are not beautiful at all."
Rei rested his head against her exposed shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his touch.
"After all, if I were to call you beautiful, it would mean you are like so many things that exist in Britain."
"And that… would be blasphemous."
"Heh."
Morgan chuckled seductively.
"And yet, your mind is full of lecherous thoughts about me, isn't it?"
"Lady Morgan, I won't deny it. You never cease to captivate me."
"Your sweet words are becoming more and more plentiful."
Morgan placed her hands over Rei's, tracing the gaps between his fingers with the soft pads of her fingertips.
"But I do enjoy them."
[You sensed that Morgan was in an exceptionally good mood.]
[But this wasn't quite the time for such emotions to surface.]
[You felt that something was… off.]
[You decided to dig deeper.]
"Lady Morgan, you seem to be in high spirits today," Rei said, his tone respectful.
"Do I?"
Morgan gently clasped Rei's index finger between her own.
"Do I seem happy?"
"At least happier than you were these past few days," Rei answered truthfully.
"And that makes me happy as well."
"…"
Morgan offered a gentle smile—she didn't seem to have any intention of hiding her thoughts from Rei.
"Perhaps… I have found a reason."
"A reason?"
"Yes." Morgan gazed out at the moon outside.
"The King Selection and the sword-drawing trial… The knights have all been eager to prove themselves."
"But not a single one has emerged as Britain's rightful ruler."
"If Britain is to have a king, then perhaps there was never such a thing as a predestined ruler to begin with."
"Even our own children… do not possess that kind of power."
"Which means—"
Morgan lifted her head, and from her slightly parted lips, damp with a subtle sheen, came the words from the depths of her heart.
"I am still the one closest to the throne, am I not?"
"…"
Truthfully, although Morgan's tone wasn't much different from usual, Rei could still sense the underlying madness in her words.
The reason she had Gawain and her other children attempt the sword trial…
Perhaps it was never about measuring their talents.
Rather, it was to prove that they—like her—were never destined to be chosen by Britain.
If that were the case…
Then Gawain's repeated attempts might only serve to irritate her, whereas Agravain, who merely touched the hilt and withdrew, might be more to her liking.
It was a fixation so deeply ingrained, so twisted, that it bordered on obsession.
Yet, Rei could not bring himself to despise her.
He had seen her struggle, over and over, only to be abandoned by fate each time.
It was a pain bitter enough to break anyone's spirit.
And so, he understood her.
"Yes, Lady Morgan."
Rei lowered his head, placing a gentle kiss upon Morgan's lips.
"You are the one closest to the throne—"
"And you are the one who will ultimately sit upon it."
"Then allow me to savor that joy a little early."
Morgan leaned back into the knight behind her.
"Before sunrise, I expect you to remain as unwavering as ever."
"As it should be, Lady Morgan."
[You did not wish to ruin Morgan's good mood.]
[So, you did not tell her what Arthur had said.]
[Outside the window, the Queen's nocturne echoed—clear and laden with desire.]
[You and Morgan shared another night of pleasure.]
The Next Day, Arriving Amidst Chaos and Uncertainty.
Gawain's thoughts were complicated.
As the eldest son, he had long since learned from his mother about the nature of his blessing.
It was a strength tied to the number "three."
From 9 AM to noon, and then again from 3 PM to sunset, his physical abilities would be significantly enhanced.
If there was ever a perfect time to meet his parents' expectations, it would be now.
And yet…
Gawain found himself unable to fulfill those expectations.
He was indeed stronger during those hours, yet that strength did not translate into the power needed to pull the sword from the stone.
Every time he touched the blade embedded in the rock, a mysterious voice would echo in his mind.
"Gawain, you are indeed strong."
"But that alone is not a reason for you to draw this sword."
It was a voice somewhat familiar to Gawain—one he felt he had heard before, yet could not quite place.
But even so, he could not allow himself to give up.
That would go against the very spirit of knighthood.
Step forward.
Reach out.
Try again.
Once more, Gawain gripped the sword hilt and pulled with all his might.
"Haaahhh—!"
Yet, the sword in the stone remained utterly motionless.
As expected—another failure.
"I will try again this afternoon."
Gawain released his grip on the hilt.
Though he failed time and time again, he refused to surrender.
But as he stepped away from the stone platform, he turned to look at the embedded blade.
Many days had passed since that magician called Merlin had declared it to be the proof of the Red Dragon.
Countless knights had tried to draw it, only to meet the same disappointing outcome.
And yet—
What if—just what if—someone truly did pull that sword from the stone?
What kind of person would they be?
Would they be like his father, commanding and resolute?
Or like his mother, regal and awe-inspiring?
Gawain did not know the answer.
But for some reason—
A small part of him felt a quiet sense of anticipation.
[Gawain seemed lost in thought.]
[You walked up to his side.]
[He noticed your presence.]
[Together, you stepped away from the Sword in the Stone.]
"Father." Gawain spoke with a hint of nervousness. "Why are you here?"
"I…"
Seeing that Gawain had once again failed to draw the sword and was now burdened with shame, Rei reached out and gently patted his son's shoulder.
"It's alright."
"Even though you didn't succeed, this was still a worthy attempt."
"I am proud of your efforts, Gawain."
"Father…"
Gratitude welled in Gawain's heart. His father was strict beyond measure, yet at times like these, he also displayed the tenderness of an iron-willed man.
However, this did not make him forget the doubt that had been stirring in his mind for some time.
"Father, may I ask you something?"
"Of course, my child."
"It's just that—"
Gawain turned his gaze toward the blade embedded in the rock.
"Last time, you said that the Red Dragon would become you and Mother's enemy in the future, didn't you?"
"In that case… why do you and Mother still support this trial?"
As expected from his most exceptional child.
Gawain had detected the contradiction.
However, Rei was not afraid of this question—he had already considered everything.
"You're right, Gawain."
"The Red Dragon may indeed become an enemy to me and your mother one day, but right now, our priority is the safety of all of Britain."
"The safety of Britain?"
"Yes." Rei nodded. "The future holds countless uncertainties, but the present cannot be ignored."
"The White Dragon still ravages our lands. We need someone who can put an end to this disaster."
[Your words seemed to have struck Gawain deeply.]
[He fell into contemplation.]
[You said nothing further.]
[You knew that Gawain would come to his own understanding.]
[And besides—this visit was not about lecturing him as his father.]
Rei quietly observed the sword buried within the stone.
He could not forget Morgan's peaceful sleeping face, reassured by the fact that no one had yet pulled the blade free.
He did not wish to disturb her good mood—so, in the end, he had come alone.
He did not believe that Arthur could draw the sword.
And yet, he feared that sliver of possibility.
If—
If she truly pulled the sword from the stone…
What future awaited him and Morgan?
Rei could not predict it.
[The inevitable had finally arrived.]
[Arthur's figure appeared in the distance.]
[Unlike the young girl who had always stood before you, she now carried a far stronger presence.]
[She still possessed her youthful elegance, yet now, she gave off an undeniable sense of knightly resolve.]
[However, the moment her eyes met yours, she still revealed the same youthful radiance.]
[She smiled at you.]
[And you responded with your well-rehearsed mask of false kindness.]
[But what you did not know was—this encounter would change the fate of all of you.]
[The painful, thorn-ridden fruit of fate had already begun to sprout.]
Rei had arrived.
Arthur felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest.
After saying such words to him yesterday, she had been restless all night.
She had hoped that Rei would come to witness her attempt.
But—what if he hadn't?
What if he didn't care about her invitation at all?
How was she supposed to face such a situation?
To be honest—
Arthur realized she had never actually thought this far ahead.
She had simply acted, much like a squirrel stumbling upon an acorn or a young deer discovering fresh sprouts—driven purely by instinct.
Fortunately, the outcome was exactly what she had wished for.
Arthur felt a newfound strength coursing through her body.
Her gaze returned to the sword standing tall within the stone, and in her emerald-green eyes, its reflection shone clearly.
Arthur had another name.
Her true name—
Artoria.
The name that had echoed within her dreams for as long as she could remember, the name called out by the voice that had ceaselessly trained her in those visions.
At first, she had never understood why she needed to hide this name.
Not until a few days ago—
When Ector revealed that he was not her birth father, but merely a guardian entrusted with her care.
Arthur—no, Artoria—finally realized that the fate she carried was far from ordinary.
That was why she had come to the city.
That was why she had spoken to Rei about her decision.
As she approached the sword, she discovered something even more shocking.
This sword—
It was exactly the same as the one she had seen in her dreams.
Even the engravings on the blade remained unchanged.
She knew the feeling of holding it.
She knew precisely how much of it was still hidden within the stone.
She could feel the sword calling out to her, its silent voice resounding like a battle cry.
Even the very earth beneath her feet seemed to tremble in anticipation.
And then—
The expectation from the sword itself—
A gaze hotter than any shout, burning into her soul.
Artoria understood.
This was the sword she was meant to draw.
She steadied her breath and reached for the hilt.
And just as her fingertips brushed against it—
That voice, the one that had trained her in countless dreams, spoke once again.
"Artoria."
"Have you truly decided?"
"Once you pull this sword from the stone, your life will change forever."
"You will gain much, but you will also lose much."
"At the end of your life, all that may await you is endless regret... or the scorn of countless voices."
"Even so—will you still draw it?"
"If you had told me this earlier, I might have given up."
"But not now."
Flashes of smiling faces filled Artoria's mind—faces she had seen along her journey.
"Everyone is smiling… That means this must be right."
"But—"
A flicker of doubt wavered in her determined gaze.
"If I am destined to gain something—"
"Then please, let me keep my feelings for Sir Rei."
"What?!"
For the first time, the voice wavered.
This was something it had never foreseen.
But it was too late to stop what had already begun.
The stone split.
The sword was freed.
For the first time in history, a hand gripped the once-unmovable blade—
And lifted it toward the sky.