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The true reason for all the pampering and praise throughout the banquet was finally revealed. Ian had been waiting for this moment, of course.
He had known all along that the Duke had an agenda.
After all, no matter how cunning the Duke thought he was, Ian had the self-proclaimed reputation of being a natural Legilimens, a mind master. Even the slightest touch of the Duke's emotions was enough for him to sense the schemes churning within him.
"Please speak, My Lord." Ian gently set down his cutlery before speaking. His gaze remained calm.
The Duke took a deep breath before slowly voicing the thought he had long considered.
"Mr. Prince, I wish for you to remain permanently in my domain and become my exclusive wizard, whom I shall honor and support."
"This would ensure that young Morgan receives the finest education and give me greater confidence in these turbulent times. Naturally, I would provide you with the best conditions: a tower of your own, generous compensation, and whatever resources you require."
"You would be revered in my lands as a sage, with authority second only to mine. My people would worship and honor you. I would spare no effort in gathering every magical tome and secret whispered throughout the world for you."
The Duke at last laid his purpose bare, yet his words carried genuine sincerity. The conditions were exceedingly generous, modeled on the privileges King Uther once granted Merlin.
And truth be told, in a world where transcendent beings walked, royal power sometimes had to bow to the extraordinary. For ambitious rulers, the existence of a wizard like Merlin was a constant weight pressing down on their hearts. So it was only natural that Duke Gorlois of Tintagel should desire a powerful wizard of his own.
A powerful wizard was much like a nuclear weapon.
That was why he was willing to pay such a steep price.
"Uh..."
Upon hearing the Duke's tempting offer, Ian swallowed before offering a faintly apologetic smile.
"Your Grace's sincerity moves me deeply, but I'm afraid I cannot accept it. I have my own mission and journey. I cannot remain tied to one place."
It was difficult to determine the extent of the regret or conflict churning in Ian's heart at this moment. It was unclear if he had ever succumbed to temptation, even if only for a moment.
Outwardly, however, he displayed the composure of someone who had resisted a temptation that most men could never withstand.
The Duke's expression showed not disappointment but rather quiet regret when he heard Ian's words. He nodded as if he had expected this answer all along.
"Very well. If that is so, I would never force you to stay." He turned his gaze to his wife before speaking. "But even so, I would gladly offer one of my most cherished possessions in exchange for a small favor, something that would be trivial to you."
It was a retreat, but not without intent.
"What favor?" Ian did not refuse.
"My lady wife is once again with child. I would ask you to name this child."
The Duke spoke again, his face softening with a smile and his eyes growing warm with affection for his wife. The display was something Ian had not expected in the slightest.
Did the Duke actually know that Lady Igraine was pregnant?
He was Morgan's father, indeed.
Could this Duke actually be the bull-headed warrior from the vast green plains?
The thought sent Ian's heart into turmoil. Not even in the wildest apocryphal versions of King Arthur's origin story had he seen anything like this!
"Mr. Prince?"
Seeing Ian standing there with a dazed look on his face, the Duke called out softly, puzzled. This snapped Ian back from a year of shock-induced senselessness and brought him back to reality.
Ian studied the Duke suspiciously, his eyes flicking over him several times.
"Er… is there some problem?" Unnerved by Ian's stare, the Duke couldn't help but explain. "Surely you know blessings from wizards like you are rare and precious, not something one can seek out at will.
"Of course, we would not wish to miss such an opportunity."
His words weren't unreasonable. After all, in this era, people really believed in powerful wizards. They were regarded much like the fangshi, or mystics, of ancient Eastern cultures.
Ordinary people believed that wizards could predict the future, ward off misfortune, and bestow blessings. A name given by a wizard was believed to carry that blessing.
But was that the point here?
Seeing the curious gaze of not only the Duke but also Morgan and Lady Igraine turn expectantly toward him, Ian hurriedly swept his messy thoughts away. After a moment of consideration, he nodded.
"All right. No problem."
His eyes drifted to Lady Igraine's belly.
"How about Artoria?"
With everyone leaning in to listen, Ian rubbed his chin and blurted it out on a whim. He wasn't trying to rewrite history; he was just indulging in a wicked little joke he couldn't hold back.
Yeah.
This had to be the lingering side effect of turning into that damned raven! It was definitely not his true nature!
"Er... Your Distinguished Self, I believe my lady is carrying a boy. The other wizards I keep in my service have already confirmed it." For a moment, the Duke wasn't sure whether to doubt Ian's powers or suspect that his other wizards had been wrong all along.
"Who says a boy can't be named Artoria?"
Ian blinked innocently. His matter-of-fact reply left the Duke and Lady Igraine with strange expressions on their faces. Even Morgan and Riddle, who had their head down, focused on his food, looked as if they wanted to speak but thought better of it.
"Could we perhaps change it to something less easily misunderstood?" Lady Igraine finally spoke up. After all, no matter what, the child in her womb was undoubtedly her own.
Just imagining her son living his whole life with such a feminine name made her vision swim.
"All right, all right. Let me think... Arthur. This name symbolizes courage and glory. This child will surely accomplish great things in the future and leave behind a resounding name and legacy."
Ian, clutching the "script," spoke with such natural confidence that his words sounded indisputable. His manner left the Duke overjoyed and convinced that this was indeed Ian's blessing. The duchess, too, broke into a radiant smile.
"Arthur...what a strong name."
The duchess gently caressed her slightly rounded belly, a tender smile on her face. It was clear that she was satisfied with the name and the supposed blessing.
"Good! Arthur, it is!"
The Duke let out a hearty laugh.
As the Duke settled the matter of the name, Ian suddenly felt a shock ripple through his mind as if something had been awakened. Closing his eyes, he glimpsed the mark of his own legend: an image rising from the depths of his mind.
A sharp sword slowly emerged.
As though it bore a legend upon itself.
(End of chapter.)