Artoria Pendragon was born without the knowledge of the common people or most of the kingdom's high-ranking officials.
There were no celestial omens, no clamor of drums and gongs. She was born as an ordinary baby girl.
Then the mage Merlin and Viscount Anno, a lord of the Glory Knights of Britain, secretly took her to a city somewhere in Britain, where she was raised by Sir Ector, who had retired and was living at home.
King Uther's health had long since become impossible to restore. By now, he could only manage to stay on his feet in public.
Merlin and Anno were both excellent horsemen. Their mounts were said to have divine steeds in their bloodlines, and before long, they had delivered the baby girl, who would be named Artoria, to her destination.
On their way back, the two stopped briefly at the Holy Lake.
Anno was fine, but Merlin was nearly scared to death.
"W-who does this child belong to!?" Merlin's face turned bright red. After stammering for a while, that was all he could get out.
Anno remained perfectly composed.
The Lady of the Lake was on the shore, holding Lancelot with a look of tender affection.
"Found him on the shore." The Lady of the Lake, who was playing with the baby, didn't even look at Merlin as she casually answered his question.
Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, though the muscles in his face were still somewhat stiff.
"Fairy, good day." Anno broke the awkward silence, walked up to the Lady of the Lake, and gave her a knight's salute.
"Good day, sir." Unlike her treatment of Merlin, the Lady of the Lake was quite pleasant toward Anno. She smiled and nodded.
Merlin had recovered as well. Smiling, he came over. "Tell us what happened."
The Lady of the Lake glanced at him and said, "It's simple. Lancelot was abandoned here by a woman."
Merlin and Anno exchanged a look.
Anno sighed.
Britain's overall economy had been highly unstable lately. Two larger neighboring countries had joined forces with several smaller ones to impose trade sanctions on Britain, leaving the whole country short of money.
As for the common people, their plight went without saying. They were the first to suffer in an economic war.
Anno and the knights he had trained were holding the military together, but when it came to the economy, even he was at a loss.
It wasn't as if he could lead the knights into battle just because others refused to trade with him. Britain's military was still at a low point, and it wasn't strong enough to stand up to them.
What was more, three giants—Rome, France, and Ireland—were still lurking nearby, watching hungrily.
Under the circumstances, it was easy to understand why ordinary people had abandoned their children by the lake rather than resorting to selling them for food.
"Would you mind letting me hold him?" Anno asked tentatively.
The Lady of the Lake hesitated, but then handed over the curious, wide-eyed Lancelot.
As Anno took the baby, the brows he had kept furrowed for so long finally relaxed. His expression softened, and he smiled kindly.
"Ah! Ah!" Lancelot giggled, reaching out with his chubby little hand to grab Anno's nose.
Anno rubbed his nose against Lancelot's little hand, and Lancelot laughed even harder.
Watching Anno and Lancelot, Merlin remarked wistfully, "It's been a long time since I've seen you so relaxed, Anno."
The Lady of the Lake nodded, though her reply had little to do with what he'd said. "I can tell Lancelot likes him very much."
Merlin hinted at what he meant. "He's human, and Anno is human too."
"You mean..."
"Lancelot can't call you mother, but he can call Anno father." Merlin smiled.
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