Blue-Eyes White Dragon: Adopted by the King of Knights [32]

In this world, there are always people who are… deeply sensitive to their surroundings.

They’ll bask in the warmth of spring sunlight and the scent of blooming flowers, marveling at how beautiful life can be—only to fall into melancholy the next moment, mourning the inevitability of that same sunlight fading, those same flowers withering.

Morgan was one of those people.

And truthfully, even she knew it was a kind of illness. A psychological one.

But it wasn’t one she wanted to change.

From the proud Red Dragon Princess to the exiled, dispossessed heir of a fallen kingdom—only she knew the full weight of that transformation. Over the past ten years, she had forged a shell of vengeance around herself, tempered with anger and bitterness. She had been forced to grow strong. Forced to swallow injustices no one should have to bear.

For a long time, she’d believed that the little girl who once swung beside her mother in the palace gardens was gone forever.

But now—

“Are you… Mother?”

That clear, clueless voice startled her.

And Morgan was surprised to find that those old, fading memories… were starting to resurface.

Only now, she was no longer the child on the swing—but the adult beside her. Her face curled slightly, not with hatred, but with a look that could only be called disdain.

“Idiot.”

“I’m your sister.”

“Eh?!”

The atmosphere, tense moments ago, suddenly lightened.

Maybe it had something to do with the setting. The fragrant meadow beneath them, soft and earthy. The tiny, glowing fae swirling gently through the night air like living stardust.

In a place like this, even the most guarded hearts couldn’t help but ease. Even someone like Morgan looked a little more at peace.

And besides—Morgan wasn’t yet the bitter, destructive figure history would one day call the Witch of Albion, who swore to bury Camelot and all of Britannia with it.

Maybe it was because the White Dragon King still lived. Maybe it was because she realized… having a sister wasn’t such a bad thing.

At the very least, if she died, the Red Dragon’s bloodline would still survive in someone else.

Though she was a bit puzzled as to why her illegitimate half-sister seemed to get along so well with the White Dragon King.

Could this be some underhanded scheme? she wondered. Did that wretched White Dragon adopt this girl, raise her up, and now intend to pit sister against sister in some tragic farce of fate?

“Um, it’s not like that,” Artoria tried to explain, catching Morgan’s expression. “Even though they’re both White Dragons, one’s a king and the other’s a god. Two totally different beings.”

“Uh… Merlin—you’ve heard of Merlin, right? The famous magus? He can vouch for it!”

She was clearly scrambling. Her understanding of the magical world wasn’t much better than Morgan’s half-baked grasp. All she could do was invoke someone with actual authority.

But—

“Merlin?”

“You know where he is?”

It was like she’d hit a nerve.

The softening look in Morgan’s eyes vanished in an instant. Her gaze narrowed into something sharp and dangerous.

“Ah—I… don’t… know… He’s always disappearing! I never really know where he is!”

“…Maybe he went to the tavern? Yeah! Probably the tavern!”

Artoria’s reply was painfully awkward.

Morgan noticed how that golden ahoge atop her sister’s head had begun swaying left and right like seaweed in a storm.

It was painfully obvious.

This idiot of a sister had no idea how to lie.

“…Well, good.”

If she were anything like that wretched magus, lying like it was second nature, I’d want nothing to do with her.

…

The misunderstanding was cleared up.

Next came what one might expect to be a heartwarming reunion between long-lost sisters.

Except… not quite.

To Wenna, watching nearby, it didn’t look like the dramatic tearful reunion she’d imagined. There were no hugs, no joyful sobs, no overwhelming flood of memories exchanged in a storm of emotion.

—In truth, there wasn’t much for them to talk about.

What was there to reminisce over, anyway? Daily training sessions? Years of exile in the shadows?

Neither of those were the kind of stories suited for a heart-to-heart under starlight.

After briefly mentioning their shared father, and how Artoria had literally emerged from a pile of rubble, the conversation drifted to the one thing they could discuss:

“How’s your kingdom restoration coming along?”

“…Well enough, I suppose.”

“There’ve been a few hurdles, but I think we’ll manage to overcome them.”

Artoria spoke first, honestly laying out her difficulties.

And it had to be said—Merlin had done an excellent job raising her into a proper king. At least when it came to nation-building, she was the real deal.

In less than half a year, the tiny band of thirty to forty people she’d started with had grown into a settlement of several hundred. Most were refugees from disaster-struck regions, but a few—like Bedivere—were noble-hearted knights who’d been drawn to her cause.

But that was the limit.

Artoria knew it, too. Without war or some other drastic measure, they couldn’t grow further.

The neighboring kingdoms—almost like they’d planned it—were giving her the cold shoulder.

No diplomacy. No communication. No trade.

They acted as though she and her fledgling kingdom didn’t even exist.

And to make matters worse, new rumors had begun to spread across Britannia: that this “chosen of the heavens” was in fact an illegitimate child. That King Uther had entrapped Duke Tintagel and stolen his wife.

“…Despicable.”

Morgan clenched her teeth.

She knew exactly what those other kings were thinking.

She—no, they—had seen their father fall victim to that same kind of scheming.

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This is a fan translation of 综漫：青眼幼龙，被骑士王捡到了 by 歌冰丽月. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!