未熟、未達、愚劣。
この破片を見るたび、彼女が思うのはそういうことだ。

かつて、彼女には守るべき王がいた。
その王が戦場で一太刀を浴びた時の外套を、彼女は貰い受けた。
切り裂かれた外套を見るたびに、身を焼かれるほどの怒りと恥辱が彼女を苛んだ。
それを原動力として、生前の彼女は幾多の戦場に立ってきたのである。

……今でも、それは変わらない。
だけど、別の感情が滲むことも、否定しない。
自分の未熟さと愚かさを分かち合いたい人間がいることを、今の彼女はまんざらでもない気持ちで受け入れているのだ。

永遠に色褪せぬ怒りと、後悔と、ほんの少しの誇りとともに、彼女は王の背中を追い続けている。

Naivete. Failure. Foolishness. Every time she looks at this little scrap, these things leap to mind.

Once, she had a king she swore to protect. After he was injured on the battlefield, she took up the mantle he had been wearing. Every time she looks at that mantle, she is filled with both rage and shame over her failure. These feelings are what pushed her to stand tall on countless battlefields later in her life.

...Even now, those feelings remain unchanged. She cannot, however, deny that another feeling has joined them. Now, she begrudgingly accepts that there are others who want to share her naivete and foolishness.

Though her anger and regret will never fade, she nonetheless continues to walk her king's path...this time, with just a hint of pride.