Château de Domrémy, Fiore's room.
Fiore sat in her wheelchair, with Caules standing to her left and Chiron to her right. Before her, Shirou knelt on one knee, using Tracing magecraft to examine the Magic Circuits in her legs.
Judging from Chiron's tense posture, Shirou had not earned his complete trust. It was easy to see that if Shirou made any inappropriate move, Chiron would subdue him with his specialty, pankration.
He would not kill him, at least. They were still in the middle of the Holy Grail War, and to ensure victory, the Black faction's Berserker needed to remain alive.
"Let me ask first, Miss Fiore. You don't intend to give up being a magus, do you?" Shirou asked.
"Mm." Fiore merely made a faint sound through her nose, but her answer was clear.
"I'm sorry." Shirou withdrew his hand, rose to his feet, and gave Fiore a slight bow.
Shirou's actions left Fiore somewhat confused. She looked up and asked, "Berserker, you haven't done anything to me. Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I have an idea of how to treat you, yet I'm still powerless to do so." Shirou lowered his eyes. Perhaps Touko Aozaki might have had some solution for this; after all, she was the magus closest to the Third Magic.
Touko Aozaki had also offered to teach Shirou about puppetry. It was the day after she had placed him on her workbench, presumably because she had realized that what she had done was rather awful.
At Shirou's words, Fiore, Caules, and Chiron all fell silent. The first two felt regret, while the latter was somewhat shocked.
Chiron knew his own Master well. Even he, a great sage of the Age of Gods, could do nothing about Fiore's legs, yet a modern magus had a solution?