"Your Highness Tristan, welcome back."
"Your Highness Tristan!"
"Ah! Your Highness Tristan! His Highness looked at me! Lord, is this real?"
Tristan led the three of them into Cornwall City. Sovell had concealed Kelpie's two horns and reversed hooves, and the moment the four entered, they were greeted by shouts from the crowd at the gate.
Women made up a considerable portion of those calling out.
Neither Sovell nor Artoria had ever witnessed such astonishing celebrity appeal, and for a moment, both of them could not help staring blankly.
"Well? Getting used to it? Think of Cornwall City as a trial run. In the future, the three of us will draw even more attention than this."
Kay reminded them from the side, and the two hurriedly collected themselves.
Seeing their embarrassment, Tristan felt that he had been inconsiderate in taking them straight through Cornwall City's main gate, so he apologized:
"I'm sorry for causing the three of you trouble."
"No, Sir Tristan, please don't say that. Praise from others should be accepted graciously. My brother and I simply aren't used to it."
Artoria offered those words of reassurance.
But her reassurance did not put Tristan at ease. Instead, he replied with a hint of gloom:
"One should indeed accept praise from others, but... alas, they praise only my appearance, not my abilities or achievements.
It truly saddens me..."
With that, Tristan began sighing again.
"There's no need to worry about that, Sir Tristan."
Sovell paused for a moment, then pointed at Tristan before pointing at himself, Kay, and Lia, and said:
"You, me, all of us-we're still young. We'll have plenty of time to distinguish ourselves in the years ahead.
Besides, everyone knows how extraordinary your archery is, Sir Tristan. Why stand here sighing?"
At that point, Sovell seemed to feel that the mood was right, and used the wind to draw a small cupful of wine from the three travelers' luggage.
He then shaped that wind into a cup to hold the wine.
Then he handed the cup to Tristan.
"Here. A toast to you."
But when Artoria saw the wine, her expression, warm as a spring breeze a moment earlier, changed. She turned to her older brother and demanded sternly:
"Where did that wine come from? Brother Kay! Was it you? Ector said you weren't allowed to drink until you turned twenty!"
"Hey! Sovell! Ah! Artoria! Don't hit me!"
Watching Kay and Artoria display their "sibling affection," Tristan's mouth twitched. He held the cup of wine, not daring to make a move.
Under Sovell's expectant gaze-or at least, what Tristan assumed was an expectant gaze-he finally drank the wine.
The four continued toward Cornwall City's royal palace, where Tristan intended to bring Sovell and his companions before King Mark.
Artoria had just given Tristan the wine Kay had secretly brought along, barrel and all.
Carrying the barrel in one hand, Tristan recalled the cup of wine Sovell had offered him earlier. A question came to mind, and he asked him directly:
"Speaking of distinguishing yourself in the future, Sir Stam, why haven't you received a knighthood? You are practically a Magus and a warrior combined.
And you too, Miss Lily. Your martial prowess is every bit a man's equal. You could easily be made a Lady and take to the battlefield as a knight.
Yet why have you only earned the titles of White Shadow and Lily among the common people...? Is there not a single king in all of Britain who can recognize talent? What a waste, leaving such gifted people to wander."
At this point, Tristan began sighing again, plainly saddened that their talents had gone unrecognized.
His claim that Artoria could take to the battlefield as a female knight was, of course, no empty courtesy.
The arrow he had shot at Artoria in the woods an hour earlier had not carried much power.
But when the girl's intuition allowed her to sever that wind arrow with a preemptive slash through empty air, Tristan had clearly sensed that it had been split lengthwise in two, from arrowhead to tail.
Even Tristan, a master of both bow and sword, could not help inwardly praising such precise swordsmanship.
Now, naturally, he would not let his admiration remain mere words. He extended an invitation to them both.
"If possible, would the two of you be willing to serve under my uncle?
If you agree, I will immediately petition my uncle to grant you both, Sir Stam and Miss Lily, the treatment you deserve.
Britain is suffering an invasion by foreign peoples. In a few years, when the three of us fight side by side, those invaders and the Vile King will surely be no match for us."
Faced with such a warm invitation, Sovell and Artoria exchanged smiles.
Then Sovell politely declined the offer:
"Thank you for your invitation, Sir Tristan, but you've misunderstood the situation.
It isn't that no lords have tried to recruit me. I have already sworn allegiance to a king. I'm simply traveling the land to broaden my horizons."
Those words piqued Tristan's interest. He wondered what sort of wise and just monarch could have won such unwavering loyalty from this young man possessed of powerful magic.
"So I was refused after all... How saddening.
But you already have a Lord to whom you've sworn allegiance, Sir Stam? Might you tell me a little about them?"
"Sir Tristan, surely you've heard of the Selection of the King Ceremony held in Wales a week ago?"
"The Selection of the King Ceremony? I did hear of it, but I had rather a lot to do around then. It's a pity I had no chance to see it. How saddening... What was I doing those days...?"
Tristan struggled to recall what had happened during those days. Though he had wandered a little off topic, he suddenly grasped Sovell's meaning:
"Wait, do you mean King Arthur, who is said to have drawn the Sword of Selection? She is the sovereign you serve?"
"That's right. King Arthur, the Red Dragon of Britain, is the sovereign to whom I have sworn allegiance."
"But I heard... King Arthur is merely a youth under eighteen, much the same age as us. Sir Stam, do you believe she will become a wise monarch?"
Hearing Tristan's somewhat offensive words, Sovell did not grow angry. Instead, his tone took on a measure of firmness that brooked no doubt.
"Of course. I believe she will become a glorious monarch."
"Forgive me, Sir Stam. To ensure that a talent such as yours does not go to waste, please pardon my discourtesy once more-
If this King Arthur you speak of becomes, well... a less than wise king, perhaps even a foolish one, what will you do then?
Forgive me, Sir Stam. I have insulted your king again. I beg both you and your king to forgive me.
How could I be so discourteous...? It truly saddens me..."
To show his sincerity, Tristan even bowed to Sovell at a forty-five-degree angle in apology.
Looking at Tristan, Sovell could not help sighing as well. Although his words truly were offensive to Lia, his manners were impeccable.
He apologized the moment he realized his discourtesy, and even when he felt compelled to offend a second time, he bowed at a forty-five-degree angle to express his profound regret. Truly impeccable.
Sovell glanced at the girl beside him. She gave a gentle smile, and he relaxed.
Lia was his sovereign. Since she had forgiven another person's rudeness, he, as her subject, could hardly act against her wishes.
And besides...
His tone and expression really were sincere!
Sovell himself did not want to dwell on Tristan's discourtesy, because this was the first time someone he had only just met had expressed concern for him with such sincerity.
Tristan had genuinely been worried about the uncertainty of Sovell's own future.
It was not regret over a pearl cast into darkness, but concern for a friend.
Before you continue