Artoria dragged the giant bear's carcass back to the village.
The burden was heavy, and her pace much slower than usual. Normally, she would have returned before dawn and had breakfast ready before anyone stirred. But today, she marched back under the golden rays of sunrise—looking, unintentionally, like a hero from legend as villagers gasped and gawked at her arrival.
"Arthur!"
"Arthur!"
"Arthur!"
They called her name again and again, their voices brimming with fervor as they stared at the mutilated corpse of the enormous bear.
But such a reaction was expected of the Celts.
The Celtic people had always revered warriors—especially those brave enough to venture alone into the wilderness and slay great beasts. Such feats were met with songs, dances, and the highest expressions of admiration.
Artoria, however, felt awkward.
She accepted the villagers' praise with an apologetic heart. She knew all too well that these cheers were not truly meant for her. But if she wanted to keep the hatchling's existence a secret, she had no choice but to raise her chin, puff her chest, and pretend to bask in their approval.
For a girl raised in knightly ideals, who had always strived to become the perfect knight, taking credit for someone else's victory was almost unbearable.
But that wasn't even the worst of it.
The true disaster began when she braced herself and pushed open the door to her home.
"Art—!"
The familiar voice came from the one person who had no blood ties to her, yet treated her with relentless strictness.
Kay.
"B-Brother…"
Hearing the stern tone in his voice, the guilt-ridden girl instinctively swallowed hard, unable to meet his eyes.
At the same time, her thoughts spun frantically in search of an excuse—something that could explain why she hadn't come home all night, without revealing the baby dragon.
But it was hopeless. Completely hopeless.
Artoria would rather head into the forest and fight ten more beasts like that bear than come up with, let alone tell, a convincing lie.
So she stood there in silence, awaiting the scolding she knew she deserved.
—Except… it never came.
Instead of reprimand, what she heard was a breezy, lighthearted voice—one that even carried the faint tune of a whistle.
"Man, blink once and you've already grown up so much!"
"Heading into the forest alone to hunt monsters… not bad. You're a real man now."
"Give it a few days—I'll take you to the town market. We'll grab a drink, and maybe you can show off that knight training of yours to some of the village girls. Bet they'll be falling over each other for you."
…
Artoria made a swift retreat.
Kay turned back to watch her fleeing figure—looking for all the world like someone just granted amnesty—and couldn't help feeling conflicted.
He still remembered the first time he met her, ten years ago.
She'd been five years old. And from the moment he saw her, he was certain she'd grow up to be a beauty.
But their father—a knight who once served King Uther—had looked at her seriously and told him, "As her older brother, it's your duty to discipline your little brother."
So he'd always called her by the more masculine nickname, Art, instead of the softer Tia.
He'd watched her grow day by day.
From a young age, she'd been drilled by their father, trained constantly in the education of kingship. Every hour not spent with the horses or patrolling the village was spent in study.
Kay shook his head.
He understood the weight of the responsibility she bore. That destiny to be "king" was the very reason for her birth, and the future she was bound to chase. But from his outsider's perspective, it all felt far too… cold.
He'd tried, at least once, to change her life—even just a little. Tried to let her taste something of what it meant to live as a person before becoming a king.
But when he once asked her if she'd been getting enough rest, her reply had been:
"Don't worry, Brother. I always rest properly from midnight until sunrise."
He'd been speechless.
Midnight to sunrise… that's not even three hours!
After that, Kay had tried to keep his distance from this earnest fool. He figured nothing good would come of getting involved with someone so obsessively dedicated to a role. Better to avoid her for life, really.
But today, something had changed.
This knight who prided himself on being a rebel suddenly found himself reconsidering.
Lying, just to shoulder a secret all by herself…?
She's found something she wants to protect?
No one had ever told Artoria this, but when she lied—or felt guilty—her body language gave her away completely.
Blushing, eyes downcast, and that golden ahoge on her head flailing like seaweed caught in the current… her nerves were practically broadcasting themselves.
"She really has grown up."
Kay was genuinely pleased by her behavior today.
He'd always wanted a younger brother who'd sneak out with him, whistle at pretty girls in town, and maybe get into a bit of mischief.
Well—he'd take a younger sister too.
But even as he smiled, something tugged at him.
As a knight, he knew better than to pry into secrets that weren't his. Just as he didn't want anyone knowing he'd already stolen half the wine from their father's cellar.
Still… he couldn't stop thinking about it!
Kay turned toward the mountain forests beyond the village, his brow slightly furrowed.
Something—or someone—had madeArt… no, had made Tia start sneaking out at night. Had even made her willing to lie to protect it.
What could that be?
"Damn it."
"She didn't… pick up some idiot who wasn't worth saving, did she?"
Just picturing some dumb, sappy knight story scenario made him shudder.
Nope. That was it.
He couldn't take it anymore.
He had to go to those woods and see for himself what kind of dangerous secret his adorable little sister was hiding out there.
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T/N: was originally 阿尔 / 莉雅 which was Al and Lia, as Kay's nickname for Artoria however I decided to switch it to Art and Tia which better fits her name.