“Are you my knight?” The silver-haired youth looked at the blonde girl before him and asked, his cheeks flushed red. This was their first encounter when he was only ten years of age.
“Are you my bride?” He held her in his arms, embraced the girl who had accompanied him for ten years straight. He was sixteen years of age.
“Are you my king?” He knelt before the throne, smiling foolishly as he looked at the girl holding the sword victoriously. At this moment, he looked like the boy he was when they first met.
“I’m fine without having eyes for you. The entirety of Camelot is for your taking.” Smiling soft and gently, he gave his eyes to the girl who lost her eyes due to the curse of the red dragon. He doesn’t regret it, he thinks. He was twenty years of age.
“So… Arthur… Artoria Pendragon, are you willing… are you willing to spend the rest of your life with me?” His voice was soft and clear as he reached out to touch her hand.
This was their legend.