Moonlight filtered gently through the sparse canopy overhead, casting faint silvery patterns across the road as Arthur rode silently beside his mentor, Reinheart Lionheart. The rhythmic clop of their horse's hooves and the occasional rustle of leaves provided a soothing backdrop to the steadily growing tension between them.
Arthur's handsome face twisted in visible frustration, his brows knitted tightly in a mixture of confusion and irritation. The memory of Duke Leo's cold explanation replayed bitterly in his mind: "My daughter has run away, Prince Arthur. Seems the thought of marrying into royalty was simply too much for her to bear."
"Unbelievable," Arthur muttered darkly, shaking his head, anger sharpening his words. "First, that strange girl Lili rejects my generous offer to join my travels, and now this! Another girl—one supposedly nobly born—runs away rather than even meet me? What in all Albion is going on?"
Reinheart sighed deeply, the soft rumble of his voice tinged with weariness and sympathy. His broad shoulders rose and fell beneath his heavy armour, the metal faintly glinting under the moonlight. He turned toward Arthur, his piercing deep-blue eyes—distinctive of the Lionheart lineage—filled with genuine concern and quiet sorrow.
"My boy," Reinheart began gently, his powerful voice tempered by fatherly warmth, "you cannot let these events weigh so heavily upon your pride. Duke Leo is… complicated, to say the least. And truth be told, this entire situation is rather strange, even to me."
Arthur shot Reinheart a skeptical glance, his stormy blue eyes narrowing suspiciously. "And yet you continue to defend him, even after he offered such a pathetic excuse? Locked in a tower and escaping using bedsheets? It sounds utterly ridiculous—like some sort of children's tale."
Reinheart's expression tightened briefly, a subtle yet undeniable flicker of embarrassment shadowing his usually composed demeanour. The veteran knight exhaled softly, the silver strands of his beard catching the pale light as he reluctantly spoke again.
"Leo has always been fiercely protective of our family's lineage, Arthur," Reinheart explained slowly, each word heavy with a mixture of awkwardness and sincerity. "The Lionheart blood—particularly the deep blue eyes passed down through generations—is something he obsessively guards. If he truly has a daughter, it's conceivable she would chafe under such strict control and react impulsively."
Arthur frowned deeply, frustration and self-doubt mingling painfully within him. He had always believed himself an attractive and highly desirable match—his royal blood, handsome features, and capable swordsmanship praised widely across Albion. And yet, twice now, he found himself inexplicably rejected.
"Impulsively enough to risk her life escaping down a tower window?" Arthur scoffed bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. "No, Reinheart, there's something Duke Leo isn't telling us."
Reinheart remained silent, privately agreeing that his son Leo's behaviour had indeed been suspiciously erratic lately. The sudden revelation of this mysterious granddaughter, coupled with Leo's desperate search, had deeply unsettled him. But pride kept Reinheart from openly criticizing his own blood before Arthur, especially when he himself remained confused.
"Arthur, I urge patience," Reinheart finally said, trying again to soothe the younger man's simmering frustration. "Leo may be stubborn and prideful, but he is no fool. I truly believe the girl will return, and all this confusion will soon be cleared up."
But Arthur shook his head sharply, lips pressed tightly together. "Patience? I've had enough patience. Being denied companionship by a simple Lord's daughter like Lili was already humiliating enough. Now, even a Duke's daughter would rather risk death by escape than meet me? Perhaps the fault lies within me after all."
Reinheart glanced at Arthur sharply, his deep-blue eyes filled with genuine distress. "Arthur, my boy, this isn't your fault—"
Arthur interrupted him curtly, his voice tense and angry. "Enough. Let us reach Einsway Village and rest. I need time to think, Reinheart. Clearly, something needs to change. Perhaps I am not who I believed myself to be after all."
The older knight sighed heavily, his massive frameshifting in the saddle as they continued toward Einsway Village. Reinheart's mind churned silently, unsettled by Arthur's growing self-doubt and his own nagging concerns about Duke Leo's unusual secrecy.
Unknown to either of them, within that very village, a young girl named Lili now sang sweetly within a humble inn, her mesmerizing voice effortlessly lifting spirits and warming hearts—completely unaware that her life and theirs would soon intertwine in ways none of them could yet imagine.
Meanwhile a gentle hush had settled over Einsway Village, the soft glow of moonlight washing over its quiet paths and humble, sleeping cottages. The midnight sky stretched endlessly above, stars glittering like countless silver coins tossed carelessly across dark velvet. In the peaceful stillness, even the usually restless forest seemed to pause in serene contemplation.
High atop the wooden palisade, a lone, weathered figure sat perched upon an old, rickety stool. Old Man Al, Einsway's trusted yet occasionally inattentive watchman, stared dreamily toward the glowing windows of the distant Dancing Dragon Inn rather than out toward the empty road he was supposed to guard. His eyes, worn and shadowed beneath bushy brows, held a distracted gleam as he hummed quietly to himself.
Beside him lay Fenton, his large, shaggy sheepdog, stretched lazily along the walkway. The dog's ears twitched slightly in response to the faint music drifting on the gentle breeze, occasionally raising his head to peer curiously toward his master.
Al leaned back against the rough wooden logs, creaking gently with the shifting of his old bones. The distant melody reaching him from the Inn was soft and sweet—like nothing he'd ever heard before in the village—and it tugged at his heart, drawing him into cheerful song despite his questionable talent.
Clearing his throat softly, he lifted his voice into the cool night air, matching the innocent melody with his own roughly adapted version, more suited to the realities of life in Einsway:
"Row, row, row your boat,
Gently down the stream,
If you see a barbarian,
Don't forget to scream—Aaagh!"
His gravelly voice, uneven and joyfully off-key, echoed faintly through the stillness, causing Fenton to lift his head sharply and stare at his master with a baffled, slightly accusing look. Old Man Al chuckled heartily at the dog's expression.
"Aw, c'mon, Fen," Al murmured warmly, reaching down to scratch behind the dog's ears. "It ain't all that bad. Besides, if you were stuck out here listenin' to the wind every night, you'd take a chance at singing too!"
Fenton gave a soft, resigned huff, clearly unconvinced but settling back down obediently. Al smiled contentedly, tapping his gnarled fingers lightly against his knees in rhythm with the distant singing.
Again, the faint, sweet music drifted toward him, accompanied by the gentle sound of villagers' laughter, applause, and joyful singing echoing from the tavern. Al shook his head fondly, amazed by the change the mysterious little girl named Lili had brought to Einsway. It had been years—decades perhaps—since the village had known such heartfelt celebration, and all because of a tiny, unexpected stranger.
"Who'd 'ave thought it, Fen?" Al mused softly, stroking his silvery beard in thoughtful wonder. "A young girl like that, singin' those songs. Makin' old folks smile and little ones laugh—never seen nothin' quite like it, have we?"
Fenton let out a gentle, approving bark, wagging his tail lazily against the wooden platform. Encouraged by his furry companion's agreement, Al's voice rose again, slightly louder and bolder:
"Row, row, row your boat,
Keep it nice and clean,
If you spot a wolf or bear,
Well, you'd best jump and scream!"
He laughed again, pleased with himself, his cracked, amused laughter spilling warmly into the still night air. From far below, the faint echo of villagers singing joyfully in harmony with Lili's clear, beautiful voice made him feel younger, stronger, and happier than he'd felt in a long, long time.
Caught up in the mood, he adjusted his battered old hat, tilting it jauntily upon his balding head, feeling invigorated by the rare magic carried on Lili's songs. He tapped his feet rhythmically on the wooden walkway, creating a gentle, humorous echo as he raised his voice even louder, daringly defiant of the silence surrounding him.
"Row, row, row your boat,
Watch out as you float,
If a red-haired lass smiles your way,
Hang tight onto your coat!"
Fenton lifted his head again, this time adding his own mournful yet endearing howl to the odd duet. Their voices blended strangely but charmingly, floating gently through the cool night air, creating an amusing serenade beneath the silver moon.
Beneath Al's distracted watch, the village slumbered on peacefully, unaware of his off-key but heartfelt vigil. Yet somewhere deep in the forested darkness, two distant riders—unseen, unheard, and unknown to the watchman—approached silently beneath the shadows of gathering storm clouds. For now, however, Einsway remained blissfully innocent, comforted and charmed by Al's playful song, Lili's enchanting music, and the gentle, quiet peace that blanketed the sleepy village beneath a sky full of stars.
Inside the warm, lantern-lit embrace of the Dancing Dragon Inn, a strikingly different scene unfolded. The tavern was packed to capacity, villagers squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder on worn wooden benches and stools, faces glowing with delight beneath flickering candlelight. At the heart of their captivated gaze stood the tiny figure of Lili, gently strumming the lute with delicate yet weary fingers, her angelic voice ringing softly but clearly through the crowded room.
"Row, row, row your boat,
Gently down the stream…"
Lili's gaze moved slowly over the gathered villagers, their smiling faces a source of both comfort and subtle anxiety. Her voice remained steady and sweet, effortlessly concealing the deep exhaustion weighing heavily upon her slender frame. Beneath her gentle facade, however, she battled profound weariness—a desperate, gnawing hunger barely dulled by the tiny bowl of watery stew and gritty bread she'd earlier been given. Her slender legs trembled ever so slightly beneath her modest skirt, her feet aching sharply from long hours spent standing and performing.
Yet despite this internal struggle, she refused to reveal even the slightest hint of discomfort or complaint. Instead, Lili smiled warmly at the eager children seated closest to the stage, their bright eyes shining with innocent fascination as they enthusiastically sang along with her.
"Again, Miss Lili!" called a tiny girl with curly hair, her face alight with excitement. Several other children quickly chimed in with eager agreement, their voices ringing cheerfully through the tavern.
Lili managed a gentle, weary smile and nodded patiently, determined to meet their innocent demands despite her growing exhaustion. Taking another slow, steady breath, she repeated the beloved song once more, her voice rising clearly and sweetly above the villagers' delighted chorus:
"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a dream."
She glanced briefly toward Greg behind the bar, searching his rugged face for any sign or gesture indicating she'd fulfilled her part of their unspoken agreement—sing until the crowd was pleased enough to earn her meal and shelter. But Greg, busy pouring ale and cleaning mugs, paid her little notice beyond an occasional approving nod. Uncertain, Lili continued onward, afraid that stopping now might mean losing any chance at reward.
Lili's stubborn independence—something deeply ingrained from her previous life as Bruce—pushed her on relentlessly. She refused to complain or plead for rest, even as dizziness began gently tugging at the edges of her vision. Deep down, she believed that nothing good ever came easily, and hardship was simply part of life's necessary trials. Besides, the villagers' delighted expressions made every ache and moment of exhaustion feel oddly worthwhile, filling her heart with a quiet yet powerful joy.
Amid the cheerful crowd, Robin Loxley stood transfixed, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on Lili. The village's young hunter, normally calm and composed, now found his heart pounding rapidly, completely mesmerized by the gentle girl standing upon the stage. Every subtle gesture, every sweetly sung note deepened his infatuation, drawing him further beneath her innocent spell.
Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Robin suddenly stood up, boldly calling out above the joyful singing:
"I love you, Miss Lili!"
His spontaneous declaration was immediately met with laughter and cheers from nearby villagers, the innocent boldness of youth warmly embraced by all. Lili, startled but determined not to lose her performer's composure, smiled warmly down at Robin, entirely unaware of the deeper meaning her words might carry in this medieval world.
"Call me Lili, the shining star—and I love you too!" she replied cheerfully, innocently echoing phrases she'd seen singers use countless times in her previous life, completely unaware of the profound effect her words immediately had upon the young hunter.
Robin's cheeks flushed crimson, his heart swelling with youthful hope and misunderstanding, convinced her casual reply had carried genuine romantic intent. Beside him, Osgar chuckled softly, slightly envious yet deeply amused by Robin's sincere infatuation, even as he felt his own quiet fascination with Lili grow stronger.
Oblivious to the deeper implications of her innocent reply, Lili gently brushed a lock of platinum-blonde hair from her eyes, preparing herself to introduce the villagers to something even more special—songs she'd treasured deeply in her past life as Bruce, yet had never dared share aloud, not even with Frank.
With a quiet, heartfelt sigh, she softly adjusted her fingers on the lute strings once more, carefully choosing her next song. It was time to move beyond simple children's melodies, to introduce Einsway Village to the deeper, more meaningful songs she'd always loved, songs that spoke to the heart and soul, and might help her new friends better understand their own lives and the struggles they faced every day.
Drawing another steadying breath, her tiredness momentarily forgotten, Lili began gently playing the opening chords of a new melody, determined to touch hearts, strengthen spirits, and uplift this village that had so warmly welcomed her—despite the growing toll each note took upon her weary body.
As the soft echoes of the children's songs gently faded into the warmth of the crowded tavern, Lili paused briefly, breathing in the rich aroma of candle wax, wood smoke, and freshly poured ale. The heat from dozens of villagers crowded close together combined with the exertion of continuous singing had gradually made her cloak feel heavy and unbearably hot.
Without a second thought—and blissfully unaware of the implications—she carefully slipped the heavy garment from her small shoulders, letting it fall gently behind her onto the wooden stage. A sudden, collective intake of breath filled the tavern, followed immediately by a tense, hushed silence as villagers stared wide-eyed and astonished at the unexpected sight before them.
Beneath the cloak, Lili wore only her simple homemade two-piece clothing, carefully sewn from soft rabbit leather she'd painstakingly prepared herself. Though modest in her own innocent estimation, the attire revealed far more of her slender yet beautifully toned figure than villagers had expected—her athletic form subtly outlined by the minimalistic garments, exposing gently sculpted shoulders, a slender waist, and smooth, porcelain-like skin untouched by the sun's harshness or labor's roughness.
For the villagers of Einsway, accustomed to heavy, practical clothing that hid any hint of the human form, Lili's simple attire was utterly shocking, evoking a mixture of fascination, embarrassment, and stunned disbelief.
Mothers hastily covered their children's eyes, exchanging shocked glances with husbands and neighbors. Elderly villagers muttered softly, shaking their heads with quiet disapproval and curiosity, debating in whispered voices whether this was some foreign custom, the eccentricity of noble-born blood, or something else entirely.
Children, confused by the sudden strange reactions of their parents, peered innocently between fingers covering their eyes, unsure why the cheerful mood had suddenly become tense and uncomfortable.
Robin Loxley stood frozen in place, his eyes wide, face flushed bright red, heart pounding violently in his chest. He had been captivated by Lili's beauty and charm already, but this innocent yet profound revelation now left him utterly entranced, unable to tear his gaze from her slender, graceful form.
Beside him, Osgar likewise stared openly, his usually confident demeanor momentarily replaced by stunned silence, feelings of protectiveness, admiration, and unexpected desire swirling chaotically within him.
Even Greg, standing behind the tavern's bar, paused mid-motion, cheeks darkening deeply beneath his beard. Embarrassed, he quickly turned away, unnecessarily polishing mugs and clearing his throat gruffly, doing everything possible to look busy rather than acknowledge the awkward moment.
Yet standing innocently upon the stage, Lili remained completely oblivious to the powerful reactions swirling around her. Her sweet, innocent face revealed no embarrassment or recognition of the villagers' discomfort. She knew nothing of fashion, modesty, or attraction—concepts foreign to her isolated upbringing and naive understanding. To her, clothing was simply a practical necessity, nothing more, nothing less.
Seeing the villagers now quiet and staring intently, Lili innocently misunderstood their silence as mere anticipation for her next song. Smiling sweetly and reassuringly, she gently lifted her lute again, entirely unaware that her innocent gesture only deepened the complicated feelings of those watching.
With innocent determination, she softly cleared her throat, her clear, gentle voice ringing gently through the tense silence, easily breaking the awkwardness:
"This next song is one I've cherished for a long time," she announced softly. "It's about life, and the choices we all must make. I hope you'll like it."
Still utterly unaware of the dramatic and unintended impact she'd just had, Lili gently began strumming the opening chords to the adapted medieval version of "The Gambler," determined only to touch their hearts and share the wisdom that had guided her so deeply in her past life—completely innocent of how profoundly she had just reshaped the villagers' perceptions of her forever.
The gentle chords of Lili's lute resonated softly through the crowded inn, cutting smoothly through the lingering tension and guiding the villagers' attention back to the quiet innocence of the small figure on the stage. Unaware of the emotional upheaval she'd caused, Lili's delicate fingers moved with practiced ease, shaping the music into a melody unlike any Einsway had heard before.
She lifted her clear voice gently, each word carefully adapted to fit the villagers' medieval understanding, each note filled with genuine sincerity:
"On a carriage bound for nowhere,
I met a weary gambler;
Both too tired for sleeping,
We watched the night unfold…"
Villagers leaned forward in quiet curiosity, drawn deeply into the narrative unfolding in Lili's lyrics. At the card-playing table, men paused their games, eyebrows raised in astonishment and recognition. The wisdom woven through Lili's gentle song seemed to speak directly to their daily lives, to their decisions made in moments of uncertainty and risk.
Robin stood transfixed, momentarily forgetting his earlier embarrassment, drawn into the heartfelt storytelling unfolding before him. Beside him, Osgar nodded thoughtfully, understanding the deeper truths in Lili's words, quietly appreciating the wisdom she effortlessly offered.
As Lili reached the powerful, wise chorus, she sang with a soft, gentle confidence:
"You've got to know when to hold 'em,
Know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away,
Know when to run…"
Villagers exchanged glances filled with wonder, admiration, and unexpected understanding. The universal truth within Lili's song resonated deeply, capturing perfectly their own lives of hardship, chance, and survival. Even the elder villagers nodded approvingly, murmuring softly about how life's wisdom often came from surprising places.
The card players stood abruptly, raising their mugs of ale high, cheering enthusiastically. Their hearty appreciation spread quickly through the tavern, villagers of every age clapping, laughing, and stomping in rhythm with Lili's lute. Children smiled broadly, clapping joyfully even though they couldn't fully grasp the deeper meaning. They understood clearly that something special had just happened.
Encouraged by the villagers' genuine reaction, Lili's fatigue momentarily faded behind a rush of exhilaration. Bruce had treasured this song deeply in his heart, quietly admiring its wisdom but never daring to share it aloud, knowing Frank wouldn't understand. But here, these humble villagers embraced her beloved music with joyful enthusiasm, warming her heart beyond words.
Feeling her confidence grow, Lili shifted smoothly into another cherished song, her voice rising confidently once more as she shared Blake Shelton's adapted medieval anthem, "Come Back as a Country Girl":
"When my days have ended,
and it's my time to go,
Let me live again beneath these skies,
and see the barley grow…"
The villagers fell silent once more, deeply moved by the vivid imagery and heartfelt pride in her song's lyrics. They recognized instantly their own humble, hard-working lives celebrated with profound dignity and respect. Lili's gentle voice conveyed to them a powerful message—that their simple, rural existence was noble, honorable, and something truly special.
Men and women exchanged glances of quiet pride, smiles deepening as Lili's music filled their hearts with newfound dignity and strength. Young people like Robin and Osgar felt stirred deeply, their own sense of identity and self-worth strengthened immensely. Children, though not fully understanding, felt the warmth and unity around them, clapping happily in rhythm with the grown-ups.
Yet it was not just her music but also Lili's innocent, gentle movements upon the stage—swaying softly to the rhythm, tapping her foot lightly for added beat—that fascinated and captivated the villagers. Such openly expressive movement was unheard of, even startling, in their reserved medieval culture. Yet, somehow, it felt right, natural, and liberating to them.
As she continued singing and gently swaying, Lili unknowingly planted powerful seeds of cultural transformation in Einsway, gently guiding the villagers toward greater expression, pride, and dignity without ever realizing the profound impact of her innocent performance.
Her heart overflowed with joy as she watched their smiles grow wider, their cheers louder, knowing she'd brought them genuine happiness through songs she'd privately cherished. For Lili, in that brief, perfect moment, all the hardship, exhaustion, and pain of her journey became entirely worthwhile.
Encouraged by the villagers' enthusiasm, Lili's tiredness briefly dissolved into sheer exhilaration. The previously subdued atmosphere inside the Dancing Dragon Inn had transformed entirely; villagers clapped vigorously, smiles widened, eyes glistening with the joyful pride that resonated within the heart of Lili's music. With each song, they connected more deeply, their hearts and spirits lifted by the profound sense of belonging and dignity conveyed by her melodies.
Taking another deep breath, her slender frame now swaying confidently to her lute's rhythm, Lili launched gently into another beloved anthem from her past life—carefully adapted to resonate with Einsway's humble existence—Luke Bryan's "Huntin', Fishin', and Lovin' Every Day":
"If I could earn my bread,
From walking through these trees,
I'd thank the Lord each evening,
For gifts of land and breeze…"
The villagers' reaction was instant and powerful. Men and women cheered enthusiastically, raising their mugs high in heartfelt appreciation. Their simple rural lives—filled with daily tasks of hunting, fishing, farming, and surviving the land—were now honored, validated, and celebrated openly through Lili's heartfelt music.
Robin, his earlier embarrassment now entirely forgotten, grinned openly, clapping loudly alongside Osgar and other young villagers who felt their pride and self-worth soaring with every verse. For them, Lili's songs had become an affirmation of their own lives, a passionate anthem that honored the everyday struggles they faced and the quiet dignity in their humble rural existence.
Even the village elders, normally reserved and cautious, found themselves smiling broadly, nodding approvingly to each other. Their eyes glistened softly with emotion as they remembered their own youthful days spent hunting in the forests, fishing by the streams, and the peaceful joy of providing for their families through honest, hard work.
Lili, sensing the deep emotional resonance she'd created, felt her own heart swell with happiness and quiet pride. Bruce had always cherished these simple yet profound songs privately, their lyrics resonating deeply with his own values, hopes, and dreams. Yet Frank had never fully understood Bruce's love for country music, dismissing it lightly as unimportant. Now, finally seeing her beloved songs deeply impacting an entire village filled her with incredible fulfillment and joy.
Carried away by her newfound confidence and emotional excitement, Lili gently began swaying more openly, her graceful movements growing more expressive as she softly tapped her foot upon the wooden stage to maintain rhythm. Her innocent, gentle dancing captivated villagers even further—men and women alike watched fascinated, their reserved cultural norms gently challenged by her honest, heartfelt expression of joy.
Children eagerly mirrored her movements, clapping and stomping their feet excitedly, their laughter ringing sweetly through the tavern. Lili's gentle dancing unknowingly created a profound cultural shift among villagers, subtly planting seeds of expressive freedom, openness, and pride that would shape their hearts and minds in ways neither she nor they fully understood.
Her performance, in its innocent sincerity, had evolved into something genuinely transformative, bringing powerful new ideas and expressions into Einsway Village's traditional medieval culture. And yet, standing joyfully on the humble stage, Lili remained entirely unaware of her deep and lasting impact—her only thought to continue sharing the songs that meant so much to her, eager to see the joyful smiles and genuine happiness lighting the faces of the villagers who had welcomed her so warmly.
Even as her small body began to tremble slightly from fatigue, Lili smiled bravely, readying herself to introduce another beloved song, one she knew would resonate deeply within their hearts, unaware of the greater changes she had already begun to set in motion.
As the lively applause slowly faded into warm silence, Lili paused momentarily, her delicate chest rising and falling with measured breaths, her cheeks softly flushed from exertion and excitement. The villagers watched expectantly, eyes shining with genuine warmth and curiosity, waiting patiently for her next heartfelt offering.
Feeling deeply encouraged by their enthusiasm, yet growing increasingly aware of her waning stamina, Lili decided it was time for something slower—something profound, yet less physically demanding. Her fingers adjusted carefully upon the lute's strings, shifting smoothly into a softer, more melodic rhythm.
She closed her eyes briefly, gathering strength and focus, drawing comfort from memories of a song she'd cherished deeply—one that spoke to her of courage, destiny, and the strength to face life's greatest challenges. Opening her sapphire-blue eyes once more, she lifted her clear, gentle voice in song, her words carefully adapted to echo the local myths and legends deeply rooted in Albion's culture:
"Our hero stood tall when dragons roamed,
A sword and shield to guard our home,
His name is whispered, bold and clear,
King Uther's blood, the dragons fear…"
A hushed awe swept immediately through the tavern, villagers staring at Lili in stunned fascination, each verse echoing powerfully within their hearts. The song's powerful narrative resonated deeply, invoking vivid memories of their own legends of King Uther Pendragon—Albion's mythical ruler known for bravery, nobility, and a supposed kinship with dragons themselves.
At tables across the tavern, animated whispers quickly erupted into fervent debate. Elders nodded solemnly, eyes glistening with prideful nostalgia, affirming to one another the truth hidden within Lili's powerful ballad. Younger villagers leaned forward eagerly, hearts ignited by the heroism and nobility described, feeling newly inspired by their kingdom's storied history.
Near the front, Robin and Osgar exchanged wide-eyed glances, hearts swelling with pride and youthful determination. Robin, already captivated by Lili's presence, now found himself further enchanted by the epic nature of her song, imagining himself as a protector, brave and honorable like those legendary heroes.
Suddenly, a tall, powerfully built villager rose dramatically upon his chair, holding his mug of ale aloft. His booming voice rang passionately through the tavern, filled with profound sincerity and emotion:
"This land—Albion—is truly blessed by the gods!" he proclaimed fervently. "King Uther's blood runs strong, protecting us still! We live in God's own country!"
Cheers erupted powerfully throughout the tavern, villagers rising eagerly, voices mingling in enthusiastic agreement. Lili, momentarily stunned, felt her heart quicken nervously. She hadn't expected such intense emotional reactions. The villagers' fervor, though genuine and heartfelt, felt slightly overwhelming, especially considering she hadn't intended to spark such powerful nationalism.
Yet even amid her surprise and slight unease, she saw clearly the sincere pride and strength shining upon their faces. Their passion, though unintended, was genuine and deeply moving. Lili offered a gentle, slightly embarrassed smile, her cheeks flushed softly beneath their approving, excited gaze.
Without fully understanding the cultural impact she'd unwittingly sparked, Lili softly strummed her lute again, gently guiding their passions back into peaceful melody, calming the villagers' excited emotions, and subtly steering them back into a more gentle appreciation of her heartfelt music.
Still, quietly, in the hearts of Einsway's villagers, seeds of deep pride, purpose, and unity had firmly taken root—seeds that would blossom slowly yet powerfully, shaping their village, their community, and their collective identity in profound and lasting ways.
As the tavern gradually quieted, a sudden, distant rumble of thunder rolled ominously overhead. Outside, the gentle breeze had swiftly transformed into powerful gusts of wind, whispering urgently through Einsway Village's narrow streets and rustling the surrounding forest leaves. Heavy clouds now thickened dramatically in the night sky, blotting out the once-peaceful stars and moonlight.
Villagers glanced uneasily toward the windows, their cheerful faces briefly shadowed with concern. Thunderstorms were uncommon enough to command attention, often signaling difficult times ahead—unforeseen changes, disruptions, or even danger.
Perched upon the village palisade, Old Man Al suddenly straightened, snapping abruptly from his musical reverie. Fenton lifted his head, ears perked alertly, sniffing anxiously at the swiftly changing wind. Narrowing his aged eyes, Al peered intently down the shadowy road leading toward the village gate, illuminated briefly by the flickering lightning.
Two mounted figures approached swiftly along the road, their horses moving at an urgent pace, driven forward by the storm's rising fury. Heavy cloaks flapped dramatically behind them, and even from this distance, Al could clearly make out the unmistakable heraldry embroidered upon their garments—the proud, unmistakable lion emblem of the Lionheart family.
Al's heart leaped anxiously in his chest as he hastily climbed down from his stool, signaling urgently toward the gatekeeper below.
"Quickly now!" Al shouted above the rising wind. "Open the gates! It's the Lionheart riders—they're approaching fast!"
The younger guard hastened to obey, throwing open the sturdy gates just as the riders thundered into the village. They reined their horses sharply to a halt, the animals breathing heavily, steam rising dramatically from their heaving flanks in the cooling night air.
Villagers peered cautiously from their cottages, watching anxiously as the lead rider gracefully dismounted, pushing back his heavy hood to reveal a strikingly handsome, proud face—Prince Arthur Pendragon himself, his expression stern yet curiously uncertain. Beside him, the broad-shouldered, older figure of Reinheart Lionheart dismounted more slowly, his deep-blue eyes carefully scanning the gathering villagers, silently assessing the quiet, cautious welcome they offered.
Without pausing, Arthur and Reinheart moved swiftly toward the warmly glowing windows of the Dancing Dragon Inn, their heavy cloaks flapping dramatically in the fierce wind, silhouetted impressively by frequent flashes of lightning. Villagers quickly stepped aside, bowing their heads respectfully yet warily as the two noblemen strode purposefully through the village square.
Arthur's handsome face was set in quiet, brooding annoyance, his thoughts consumed by his recent disappointments—the mysterious disappearance of Duke Leo's daughter, a supposed bride who'd fled rather than meet him. His pride had already suffered once at the hands of the peculiar girl, Lili, who'd refused his offer of companionship. Now, feeling rejected yet again by this unknown noble girl, Arthur's frustration and uncertainty simmered darkly beneath his dignified exterior.
Reinheart, sensing Arthur's mood, moved carefully beside him, silently supportive yet privately troubled by Duke Leo's suspicious explanation. Reinheart himself had felt deeply disappointed by not meeting this supposed granddaughter—a rare joy he had eagerly anticipated. The mysterious situation troubled him deeply, casting doubt upon Leo's motivations, leaving Reinheart questioning both his son's honesty and his actions.
Yet neither man spoke as they approached the tavern's sturdy wooden doors. Villagers watched in quiet awe, whispers quickly spreading through the village, speculations rapidly exchanged about the reason behind the Prince's unexpected late-night arrival.
Inside the tavern, unaware of the approaching noblemen, Lili softly cleared her throat again, gently introducing her final heartfelt song—a song of personal memories, emotional longing, and quiet strength she'd treasured deeply: "Hurricane."
As her gentle voice rose once more, the villagers settled quietly, captivated by the emotional depth and gentle beauty of her lyrics. Unaware of the dramatic events unfolding just beyond the inn's door, Lili softly tapped her foot in gentle rhythm, her sweet voice filling the tavern warmly, masking the quiet creaking of heavy boots climbing the inn's steps.
Just as she reached the emotional climax of her song, the tavern doors burst open dramatically, a powerful gust of wind sweeping fiercely into the crowded room. Villagers gasped softly, their heads turning sharply toward the entrance, hearts quickening nervously at the impressive sight of Prince Arthur standing framed dramatically within the doorway—his cloak billowing, rainwater dripping from his broad shoulders, his stormy-blue eyes locking instantly onto Lili's startled, wide-eyed gaze.
Arthur smiled slightly, arrogantly confident yet intrigued by the sight before him—unaware of the emotional turmoil his sudden arrival had sparked within Lili's rapidly beating heart.
The tavern grew utterly silent, the tension thick and palpable, anticipation heavy in every villager's breathless expression, as Arthur Pendragon stepped boldly forward, his gaze never leaving Lili's delicate, flushed face.