In the world of Type-Moon, it all begins with becoming Morgan's husband!

"Well! I see!"

After helping Artoris mount his horse, Ian stole a glance at Kay, who was lurking in the shadows.

The other person's expression softened noticeably.

But that's normal—after all, anyone with eyes can see the value of this horse.

That will make things much easier from now on.

However, Ian did not expect that things would develop in a direction that even he had not anticipated.

After mounting his horse, Artorius looked down at Ian.

With a slightly flushed face, he cautiously began to speak:

"Mr. Ian."

"Why don't you... get on the horse too?"

45. May our ten fingers stay together a little longer.

"Ok?"

Artorias's words startled Ian.

"Let me mount the horse?"

“Yes.” Artorius’s voice was soft, but his tone was firm.

“Mr. Ian, I hope you can get on the horse.”

Even without turning around, Ian was certain that Kay was watching him.

"No."

“Artorius, I can’t do that. A knight doesn’t let anyone else ride his horse when he’s in battle.”

"But this is not a time for fighting."

Even seated on horseback, Artorius continued to actively seek agreement.

"Mr. Ian, do you not usually allow those who need it to ride your horse?"

"..."

Ian was at a loss for words.

Seeing this, Artorius continued;

“Mr. Ian, let’s look at it from another angle. This is the first time I’ve ridden this horse.”

"Just think of it as introducing me to it!"

"..."

Having said all that, Ian knew it would be impolite to refuse any further.

"I understand."

"Well then, let me introduce you to it briefly."

"That's great! Thank you, Mr. Ian!"

To be fair, while Atolis and Morgan do share some subtle similarities, you wouldn't say you can't tell them apart.

There's only one thing you like to hold onto while on horseback—Morgan's waist.

Therefore, even if you ride the same horse as Atolis, you still maintain a certain distance from him.

However, Artoria seems unwilling to maintain such clear boundaries with you.

“Mr. Ian?” Artorius turned around. “Could you please move a little closer?”

"If you're like this now, it's a bit too far off."

"That's enough."

“No!” Artorius shook his head. “It’s not enough!”

"I want to learn from you the correct way to ride this horse."

"..."

"I understand."

Ian felt a throbbing pain in his head—he realized that his solution of sending horses wasn't quite perfect.

But it wasn't all for naught—at least it was a decent excuse.

He could use Atolis's name to make a clean getaway.

“Then sit down, Artorius.”

"I'm going to show you the might of the British warhorses!"

"Ok!"

Artorius blushed slightly, and his index and middle fingers, like ants climbing a slope, carefully rested on Ian's hand.

Seeing that the other person wasn't too averse to it, he then completely took his hand up.

"Such warm hands..." Artorius murmured in a voice only he could hear.

"If only it could last a little longer..."

You did not hear Artoria's whispered prayer.

Having taken the reins from him, you only hoped to quickly escape Kai's surveillance.

[You actually did it.]

For a general who had fought on the battlefield for many years, riding such a warhorse was not a difficult task, even with a passenger on board.

The horse's hooves crossed the stream and sped over the grass.

[You've had a pleasant ride with Atolis and escaped Kai's surveillance.]

Tick ​​tock.

Horse hooves rose and fell across the grassland, leaving behind trails of footprints.

Artorius's face was as red as a fresh apple in autumn, tinged with excitement.

"Is this the limit for this horse?" he asked.

"No."

Ian tightened the reins a bit, which slowed the horse down slightly.

"My riding skills are not perfect. If a better rider could handle it, I think it would perform better."

"That might be something you can't say for sure."

“Then Mr. Ian…” Artorius looked at his and Ian’s hands touching and his lips parted slightly.

"May I name this horse?"

“Of course.” Ian smiled slightly. “I’ve already given it to you.”

"You can do whatever you want with it."

"Then I'd like to call it East Starion!"

“Good name,” Ian replied with a smile. “Now, Artorius, can you let go of my hand now?”

"Huh? I'm sorry!"

Atorlis then realized that Ian wasn't actually indifferent; he just hadn't said anything.

He quickly withdrew his hand, but his eyes still lingered on it—he really liked the feeling of their hands clasped together.

“Mr. Ian…” Artorius asked again cautiously.

"what happened?"

Am I... the first person to ride the same horse as you?

"Why do you ask?"

"No, it's nothing!" Artorius waved his hand and quickly explained, "It's just that the feeling of galloping on horseback makes my heart race."

"So I'm wondering if you've done anything similar before?"

"Riding horses with men?"

Ian thought for a moment, then shook his head in denial.

No, never.

This wasn't meant to please Artorius.

After all, when he was riding the same horse as Morgan, he wouldn't dare to gallop like he had just done.

So in a sense, Atolis was indeed the "first" to do so.

"this!"

Artorius's eyebrows lifted slightly—a genuine expression of joy.

Am I the first one?

"Mr. Ian, I'm really lucky!"

“Really?” Ian gently stroked the back of Artorius’s head.

“Then I don’t think you’re that lucky, Artorius.”

"Mr. Ian, what does this mean?"

Your hair is messy again.

"Eh?"

Upon hearing Ian's words, Atorlis reached back and realized that his hair, having broken free from its restraints during the horse's gallop, was now disheveled and resembled a kelp ribbon.

The piece of cloth that was originally used to tie her hair was also gone.