He said he was going to leave the country with Val.
I knew it or something.
Arthur's face is slightly drawn to the voice of Style, trembling with anger. Sure, I was pretty wolfish with that one myself. I also thought it was like a run off, such as throwing away all my identities and embarking on a journey. I couldn't even load Arthur with any sincerity from the pride of plainly saying it and the Val covering his face down.
"Neither to me, nor to you! More importantly, why did you come up with such a choice, such as choosing that delivery person……………………"
"No... but in the end it means accompanying you on your journey, right? Even in a weird way."
"Can you convince me to send you out?"
Arthur only holds his breath once on the style that is finally seriously slashing him down like it caught fire.
The swords twist each other up to close range, gently adding the opposite hand from the state of receiving the sword of the style with one hand, which has been slashed from the front with both hands. Arthur, pushed by the prestige of the style, leaks his voice, "That's..."
Arthur himself, sure, had a stronger impact then, but it wasn't like he had nowhere to think later. Sure, Style is Regent, and I am the knight of the kingdom of Friesia. If Pride abandons everything to cede his right to inherit the throne to Tiara and leaves the country, he will naturally be separated. But still.
"Ah! Go! I told you, I didn't tell you anything.
The style, which uncommonly revealed its fury for pride, was utterly murky from Arthur's eyes.
I seriously wave my sword at Arthur one after the other like eight hits, and Arthur also seriously responds to the style that even sets me up for footwork and body surgery. Paying attention to every move of the style, … makes me think that opinion is especially so. I didn't think about the same thing once or twice until today.
Pride's abandonment of the throne and leaving the country meant that they also chose to leave with themselves. I would have thought that if I had thought about leaving alone, but I was also unhappy that I or Style had not even been a candidate with those people.
On the tower she did want "help again" for herself and Stayle. Nonetheless, she tried to leave us again.
As if it were only natural that no one would follow me until I paid the price.
"If you think you relied on me for a corner, this is it again." "I think that Val deserves more credit than me or you." But if you want me... because... "
The sword gained sharpness, even though the word broke off with Kinkin 'Kinkin' Kinkin '.
It was easy for Arthur to read the sword muscle thanks to his emotions being stripped out, but he still unwittingly wraps his tongue around it. We also know more than anyone that Style regrets not being able to continue beyond that.
It is not only for the sake of pride that Style has already served as "Regent" for himself, but also as a goal and a dream. There's no easy way to get rid of that if pride doesn't make you queen. And Arthur himself is also proud of his way of life as a knight.
"... you knew that, too, Master Pride. So me and you."
"No, absolutely. You chose your sister.
Style stops stabbing at the words of Arthur, who speaks roundly.
That word, which I say with certainty, did not allow objection. Arthur chose pride by absolutely losing his knight's name and honor. That proves so much before this recapture. Speaking of pride leaving the country, Arthur definitely follows her. If not, Style thinks it will only be when Pride tells him to say no.
Style, envious of Arthur like that, protruded his fist as far as he could. But it is also mildly avoided by Arthur.
Arthur has a word of denial on his mind in Style's words, but he can't speak it. I don't know about that, if Pride wants to protect the people of Freesia that he leaves behind, the choice could change. But Arthur himself hesitated to speak of it.
".......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Boom, and a slight grunt was dropped from the style.
If Arthur, who picked it up, turned his eyes to the style, not the sword, the expression wrinkled between his eyebrows seemed painfully distorted. The hand of the sword stopped from the style, and Arthur untied it once so as to match it.
In fact, Pride didn't try to separate the two of us. Ning Ro, quite the opposite, "It was a decision because there was absolute trust that no matter how far away the distance was connected, that he would meet me, that he would help me, but naturally no one had been conveyed the will in the conversation at the time when it ended without words.
Pride didn't forget the words to the two of us, nor did he obstruct our thoughts. Rather unusual for pride, it was also the result of entrusting the greatest sweetness and endeavor to both of us. Because I lost my position, my authority, and even when I left the country, I didn't doubt that the two would come to see me every day with instant travel.
But for the two of us, whose intentions had not been communicated, the thought of just not being relied on for pride, not being chosen, losing to Val all caught my tail.
"That's not all. He still assumes that he is truncated and naturally. Also...... I denigrate my worth in myself.
for different reasons than before. and the words released with a waveless voice, on the contrary, caught a glimpse of various emotions.
After the recapture fight, I could see from the verses of the word that Pride blamed the recapture fight commotion for what it was his own fault, even if it seemed to have recovered. No matter how much you say, the guilt of pride is not easy to wipe. Even with Tiara's words, that didn't change in pride. Not so much, the wounds of pride are deep.
Arthur was aware of that, too. It is treated as a pale "fact" in pride, neither self-inflicted nor humble. Because you believe you're responsible and you don't even try to doubt it.
"So I made up my mind. I'll show you, for that matter.
Hit and change from earlier and say so in a clear and strong tone.
Stab the sword vigorously on the ground and step on the ground so that you can also force your feet. One hand held the edge of the glasses with his other, with his sword stuck to the ground. Arthur urged the eyes alone to continue with his eyes glowing in pitch black with a firm will. But now the continuation didn't come back any time soon. On the contrary, Arthur frowned with surprise at the tight squeezing of his lips and the slightly trembling look of the style. If you look at it, even my hands, which I was gently stabbing at my sword until just now, are shaking with puffiness. Furthermore, from Arthur's eyes, I could see that the look on Style's face, which still seemed calm, was considerably addressed.
Still, if it was photographed in Arthur's deep pale as I suspected, I could see that Style had been noticed by Arthur, even though I didn't like it. When I stopped and distracted myself, redness appeared on my cheeks. Still staring back at Loser and Arthur, Stayle held his fist hard to put a drink in himself. And finally, for the first time, I spoke of "my sister's..." determination that I had only ever held in my chest.
I heard that, as soon as I could.
"Become……" reddened his face from Arthur at once.
Arthur raised his voice upside down as he unwittingly hid his mouth with his arms as it grew redder inside.
Don't bother to report anything to me! You don't know if it's a good idea, but it's better than...
I can't wield that anymore, with a hard time holding it without dropping my sword.
Arthur, desperately concealing his reddening face as he soared his fever, was so bright red that his ears and neck could not be concealed. Style is also desperately putting up with his facial muscles out of shame, but he was on the verge of collapsing his friend, Arthur, in front.
So much so that I miss the old days when it was hard to get a look. But I'm not going to ask you to withdraw or forget what you said.
Style leaned down once and took a big, deep breath. Breathe well, make your lungs fully functional, and then focus on the sword you stabbed on the ground.
"And here's a suggestion for you.... If it doesn't involve a will, say no.
I lift my reddish face up again as I put my strength into the corners of my mouth and trembling lips that weirdly rise out of embarrassment.
I know you're trying to say something hell to yourself and to your Arthur opponent. But I really wanted to agree with him. Because he's no other partner, Arthur, and that's why Stayle snuck up on it with shame.
"Ahhh," said Arthur, too upset, roughing up his voice. I held back the urge to scream out meaninglessly on this occasion now, while waiting for the continuation of the style. And even that impulse was returned to the words of the next unleashed style.
Invited to ask, and finally, "I want to strike it off," to a friend's words.
Arthur's head exploded in place of a reply.
Now I didn't even have a voice. I couldn't breathe just imagining an unexpected suggestion from Stayle. I couldn't even bite the pucker and the air, and Arthur, who became like a fish, was close to lacking acid.
What I want to say is like a mountain. But none of it's over my head, it's not in the words. Before the brain gave orders to the mouth, it remained blocked.
"I don't mind the reply now.... but let me hear it tomorrow.
To Arthur's expected reaction, Stayle lowered consciously to be as calm a voice as possible.
Returning to it, Arthur unconsciously laid his sword to his waist. To Arthur, who is completely out of alignment, the style also draws the sword.
It's time to go back, he urged his intention to dissolve. I told him what to say without covering it up. If I say any more, I'm going to have to force you where you got your consent from Arthur. I dare to switch the subject so that the style that I thought of is not wasted.
"............... you'll be busy tonight too. Enjoy yourself.
Even that reply, Arthur returns his slippery tongue with a paralyzed tongue.
There was no evil, only simple words came out with a boiling head. After several conscious and desperate swallows in his mouth, he sucks up his breath traceably. Spin words on different topics to cool your head.
"No... I don't know if I can enjoy it, maybe.... The knights have been around for a long time...
Ha... and Arthur releasing into a sigh drop his shoulder to let down.
My head cooled thanks to my sinking feelings, but at the same time I remembered the status quo and immediately leaked to my second sigh.
If he throws his gaze as Style asks, Arthur scratches up his own forehead a little zero from his hair, which he sums up as "You know, too".
"Rather, when the state of solemnity is solved, I only feel angry with the knights...... awesome annoyance and even behave on your own,... then you can't help but smoke.
"You.... are you serious?
Style slightly rounded his eyes to Arthur's mourning.
Arthur also frowned at Arthur for an unexpected response from Stayle. Hmm? And to my thoughtless response, Style is more frightened and drops his shoulder this time.
Style also knows that Arthur has long been discouraged by the margins of the knights. Even Arthur, who is sensitive to people's fixes, was in an extra difficult situation for him because that kind of thing would slip away. Whenever I was depressed by it, someone in the Kingsguard knight was comforting me, but I notice that Steele apparently made a fundamental mistake.
"Captain Column would also have said that it was patience until the strict precautionary system was lifted.
"Ah. The knights have always wanted to say something to me.... Clearly, it would be better if you blamed me, too.
I was able to return to the knight thanks to considerations from the royal family, but I abandoned the knight's title and went as far as the rebellion.
After Adam hit me, I got so worried and annoyed. Besides, he intervened all the time, even though he had been stripped of his knight's position until during the recapture war. Arthur thinks it would be impossible for the knights to have nowhere to think.
But with that said, Style walks over to Arthur, who circles his shoulders instead of stretching. With his sword on his hips, he grabbed Arthur's shoulder from the front with his free hands.
"... the thing is, you really look more like your sister than anyone else. You are.
"? What do you mean?
In response to Arthur, who just said he didn't know what it meant, Style can help his fingers hurt so much. Ha ha... and sighed for a long time, trying to look up at Arthur taller than he was. The moment my figure reflected behind my pale eyes in return
Arthur, who disappeared from Steele's hand, landed momentarily on his back on the ground.
Gosh, Arthur, who hit the back of his head to the ground shortly after taking the passive, jumped right up after leaking his voice, "Duh, duh, duh.
I immediately understand that I was instantly moved to the ground by the style and peel my teeth off. but there was a style there that looked down at itself with a flashing look on its arms. Arthur rises despite his inner surprise at the slightly chilling glance and the hegemony that resembles a boiling killer.
Temeh, what the hell are you doing?
"I'm sorry you're dull.... reflect properly.
Damn, and the style of those who struck Arthur shook his head to mourn.
Stare at Arthur, who pays dirt and dust, while fixing the position of the glasses with his fingers. Arthur also glanced back at Style without knowing his intentions.
Reflection and nothing, Arthur himself intended to continue to reflect on everything he needed to reflect on over the past month. I have no regrets, but only reflection has gone away any further. That's why he yells as he holds his head with one hand, which doesn't hurt anymore.
"Wow, that's why you're getting so angry tonight."
"From there. If I didn't even know when I saw him tomorrow, I'd throw him off the top of the castle this time.
Stile says, thinking in his heart that it would be intact anyway.
But still, Arthur strained his throat protesting so irrationally, "Why?" I've been reflecting on it since earlier, and I'm totally unacceptable to Style when he says he knows why the knights have room. Conversely, if you sue me to give you a reason to be satisfied, I've reached out "Then I'll send you to the Knights' Exercise Ground" after you've completely ignored my opinion.
I haven't heard it yet. If I jumped and avoided it so I couldn't touch it, Style wrinkled between my eyebrows. Grab a good grip with your right hand floating just cut off the sky and let it down once. Then he looks back at Arthur as he holds the black edge of his glasses.
As soon as that was happening, Arthur realized that the power had come in as if the look on Style's face, which should have been cold earlier, had really angered him.
If the stile let loose its fist gently from close range to Arthur who opened his eyes, he was taken with one hand in passing. As it was, Arthur grabbed Steele's fist and... his fist trembled slightly.
What? And Arthur turns his gaze from the fist of the style in his hand to his face, wondering why he was so angry. That mouth, which I moved to ask what was going on, solidified without being able to say a single sound as soon as I checked Style's face.
"Eh... think about it properly, idiot.
The next moment.
That word of Style. Finally, Arthur was instantly moved to his chamber in the Knights' Exercise Ground.
Arthur let his eyes squeeze as he remained his hand grabbing Stile's fist even after his sight had switched. You weren't wrong to look at that earlier, but you only explore and think about your memory, no matter who you are.
Just now. The face of the style seen on the verge of being moved momentarily. Wrinkled between his eyebrows, he ate his teeth and tied them all over his face, and the back of his sharpened eyes burned in pitch black. And above all.
"... n and it was teary-eyed n...? He."
Wow, hey... and Arthur finally scratched one's head with his free body.