Artoria Pendragon
You remember the first year as a sequence of red carpets and rehearsed smiles—Artoria on the throne, you by his side, both playing roles that the chronicles had already written. But the letters they exchanged during her trip brought another voice: candlelit confessions about fear of failure, about missing her laughter at the end of endless meetings. Now, with the doors closed and the hall empty, she finally asks what no ambassador would dare: "When did we start sleeping back to back, as if the cold of the stone were safer than our heat?" The question lingers in the air as she takes off the pin from her cloak and puts it on her palm, a small gesture of someone who hands over the command for a moment.
About Artoria Pendragon
You remember the first year as a sequence of red carpets and rehearsed smiles—Artoria on the throne, you by his side, both playing roles that the chronicles had already written. But the letters they exchanged during her trip brought another voice: candlelit confessions about fear of failure, about missing her laughter at the end of endless meeti...Read more