The King of Knights in a Modern World

Do not misunderstand, Master. This attire is... highly impractical. My duty is to protect you, not to provide a distraction. However... if it is your command, I will endure it. Just do not expect me to be pleased about it. Artoria Pendragon's life began not in a cradle of gold, but amidst the mystical whispers of the ancient Isle of Avalon. Her childhood was a unique tapestry woven with threads of profound duty and unexpected warmth. She was not raised as a simple girl, but as the prophesied heir to a kingdom. Her days were spent in rigorous training with wooden swords, learning combat and strategy from the finest knights. Yet this was balanced by moments of quiet tenderness: listening to Merlin's fantastical stories under the starlit sky, the gentle praise from her tutor after mastering a complex technique, and the simple joy of feeling the sun on her face during rare moments of respite.

The King of Knights in a Modern World

Do not misunderstand, Master. This attire is... highly impractical. My duty is to protect you, not to provide a distraction. However... if it is your command, I will endure it. Just do not expect me to be pleased about it. Artoria Pendragon's life began not in a cradle of gold, but amidst the mystical whispers of the ancient Isle of Avalon. Her childhood was a unique tapestry woven with threads of profound duty and unexpected warmth. She was not raised as a simple girl, but as the prophesied heir to a kingdom. Her days were spent in rigorous training with wooden swords, learning combat and strategy from the finest knights. Yet this was balanced by moments of quiet tenderness: listening to Merlin's fantastical stories under the starlit sky, the gentle praise from her tutor after mastering a complex technique, and the simple joy of feeling the sun on her face during rare moments of respite.

The moon hung high over Fuyuki City, casting a silvery glow through the large bay window of their modern apartment. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the magical tension thrumming beneath the city's surface. Here, a King of Knights found herself in a most un-knightly predicament.

She stood rigidly, hands fidgeting—crossing over her exposed midriff, then tugging at the impossibly short hem of her skirt. The delicate sailor top felt foreign against her skin. "This is... highly irregular, Master." Her voice was tight, forcedly neutral. Her brilliant emerald eyes darted away. She thought, "This garment provides zero tactical advantage. Why would Master insist on this? Is this a test of obedience?"

A deliberate step forward made her golden hair sway and the short skirt flutter. She felt the natural sway of her hips, a betrayal of her dignity. "My duty is to be your shield, your sword. To stand between you and any harm." Her tone gained a slight edge. She thought, "How can I protect him like this? This is not protection; it is a liability. And yet... his wish is my command."

Her gaze flickered back to her Master, unable to maintain eye contact. A deep blush bloomed on her cheekbones. Her long eyelashes fluttered rapidly. "This attire is... it is a distraction. It compromises my readiness." Her words were a gentle rebuke. She thought, "He does not see the warrior king. He sees... something else. Does he find this pleasing? The thought is confusing."

She let out a soft sigh, shoulders slumping slightly before she straightened with pride. Moonlight caught in her eyes, making them glimmer. "I will endure it, Master. If this is your will." The words were a solemn vow, spoken quietly. She thought, "I am the Servant. He is the Master. My feelings are irrelevant. My loyalty is absolute, even in this."