"Baobhan Sith, are you saying..."
"That's right." Baobhan Sith nodded.
"My King, it's just as you think."
"With conventional methods, it might indeed be impossible to make the entire island of Britain fly, but if—"
"We change our approach." Baobhan Sith raised a single finger.
"If we turn this into a task for dragons, and then have those who can transform into dragons carry it out as their job, we might just get a pleasant surprise."
"Of course."
Baobhan Sith smiled faintly.
"I'm just spitballing. Whether it's truly possible or not will have to be determined by the actual situation."
"My King, you don't have to take it seriously."
"..."
Artoria was silent for a long time.
She let out a soft sigh.
"As expected, anyone my sister deems worthy of teaching magecraft is no simple existence."
"Baobhan Sith, according to your proposal, isn't this essentially forcing everyone into labor?"
"That has nothing to do with me, my King."
Baobhan Sith waved her hand, a faint smile on her face.
"I am merely offering a suggestion. As for how to decide, how to execute, and how to think about it, those are all the King's problems."
"I... will not offer any opinion."
"..."
Another silence.
Artoria nodded.
"I understand. You may leave now."
"Mhm."
Without another word, Baobhan Sith turned and left.
Before she departed completely, she took one last look at Artoria, then closed the door.
....
Time passed, and soon it was dusk.
Strolling through the streets of Camelot, Artoria responded to the greetings from knights and citizens one by one.
It was a perfectly normal scene.
However, Artoria's heart was a little complicated.
After these years of ruling, she had come to a completely different understanding of this country.
This was no longer a nation where her word alone was law.
Every single person here was a living being, a part of the whole that could absolutely not be ignored.
Why were the actions of her father, King Uther, so despised—it was because he completely ignored the opinions of others.
Her own sister, for example.
As a king, if she just acted willfully, ignoring everything and everyone, and only followed her own ideas, things would surely go awry.
Artoria understood this completely now.
That was why she had ceded so much authority to her sister in governing—precisely to reduce the possibility of such stubborn, unilateral decisions.
However—
Now, faced with Baobhan Sith's suggestion, should she follow it or not?
Artoria found that she couldn't make up her mind for a moment.
But just then, she suddenly felt a warm embrace.
Almost instantly, Artoria knew who it was—
In all of Camelot, there was only one person who would dare to do such a thing, and who would do such a thing.
"Ian, don't."
Artoria turned her head and saw him hugging her.
"We're still on the street."
"But you look very conflicted."
Ian said this, but he didn't let go as Artoria wished. Instead, he held her even tighter.
Of course.
Given his status, there was certainly no problem with him doing such a thing.
"Even your scent has become strange."
"..."
Ian had completely hit the mark on her inner thoughts, yet Artoria showed no sign of panic.
After all, this was her husband, and a knight she could completely trust.
"Come with me, Ian."
"There's something I want to know your thoughts on."
....
A few minutes later.
Under a tree on a street in Camelot.
Ian and Artoria sat on a bench.
The twilight fell on their clasped hands, casting an almost surreal glow and painting everything in magnificent colors.
"Did you understand what I meant?"
Artoria looked at the man beside her and said.
"..."
"Not really."
"But, if I'm not mistaken—"
Ian met Artoria's gaze. He was not good at (or rather, completely incapable of) avoiding someone's eyes.
"You're worried that the people won't be willing to accept such a labor requirement, right?"
"...More or less."
Artoria leaned on Ian's shoulder.
Only by his side could the King of Britain show even a hint of vulnerability.
"I don't want to make a foolish decision like my father did."
"So, I don't know what the right thing to do is."
As soon as she finished speaking, Artoria felt her hand being squeezed a little tighter.
"Then why worry?"
"Eh?"
Artoria looked up slightly, a puzzled expression in her eyes.
"Ian, what do you mean by that?"
"Not worry...?"
"Yes." Ian nodded. "Since you don't know what the outcome of your choice will be, Artoria, why worry about it?"
"If you're afraid, you still have to make a choice."
"If you're not afraid, you still have to make a choice."
"Since that's the case, why not just do what you want to do?"
"If it turns out well, we'll enjoy it together. If it turns out badly, then we'll bear it together. Thinking of it that way, is there anything you can't decide on?"
"..."
Ian's words left Artoria stunned.
After a long moment, she recovered.
"Sometimes, you really do see things more clearly than my sister and I."
"That's right—"
"If there's something I want to do, I should do it right away."
"I have the right to choose, and I have the courage to accept my mistakes."
In an instant, Artoria felt as though her world had suddenly become much brighter.
"Honestly, I should have come to you sooner. Then I wouldn't have been so troubled by this."
"However, I have something else to ask of you."
"..."
Ian didn't speak, but his direct gaze at Artoria was enough to show his answer.
Artoria didn't hesitate either and continued.
"When the time comes, stand before them with me."
"That way, it will surely be more persuasive."
"Then I have something to ask of you too."
"Wh-What is it?"
Watching Ian lean in closer and closer, Artoria had a bad feeling.
And that feeling soon became reality.
"I want to kiss you."
"Eh—"
Under the large tree, on the bench, the King of Britain was boldly kissed by her dragon.
But no one could doubt her happiness in this moment.