Since Merlin had no divine power, Mankim would have refused.
To ask the high priest, they would have no choice but to reveal that they were searching for the Holy Grail.
So it seems they resolved it with a curse instead.
Morgana stroked Mankim’s head affectionately and smiled warmly.
“I won’t let you go hungry.”
💫
A heavy silence hung over the reception room of Arthur’s estate.
Though it would have been fitting to catch up with old comrades after so long, neither Sir Ector nor Bedivere spoke first.
Only the clumsily placed herbal tea on the table continued to diminish.
Sir Ector, who showed no trace of his past illness, had regained his vigor to the point where one could believe he was still an active knight.
Awkwardly, he broke the silence as he looked at Bedivere, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time.
“I agree with the intent, but isn’t it still before the young lord is to marry Princess Guinevere? What about the princess?”
“When I saw her at the temple, she seemed very fond of Lady Morgana. There’s no need to worry about that.”
At Bedivere’s firm reply, Sir Ector’s gaze shifted to Arthur seated beside him.
From the way he silently sipped his tea, it was clear he shared the same opinion.
Had it been otherwise, Arthur would have been the first to oppose—that was just his nature. Having practically raised him, Ector realized that the rebellion was already a decided matter.
The only choice left was whether to join him or not.
‘I didn’t notice because he hid it well… So he’s been dreaming of revenge against King Vortigern all along.’
It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand, but it was still a cause for concern.
Rebellion was no small matter—one had to consider the risks of failure. Responding to Sir Ector’s cautious hesitation, Bedivere set down his teacup with a soft clink.
From his precise movements to his voice, there was a solemn gravity.
“Your cautious nature is likely why His Lordship entrusted Arthur to you. But now is the time to act.”
“Most of the Pendragon knights have lost their lives. How do the three of you plan to carry out what amounts to a rebellion?”
The Britain royal palace was no feeble fortress that could be taken so easily.
Thanks to the drawing of the holy sword, the morale of the royal knights had reached its peak.
The capital had long been swept up in an excited atmosphere, dreaming of prosperity as they envisioned bringing the entire continent under Britannia’s rule.
No matter how secluded one’s mansion was, it was impossible to ignore the unusual mood in the air.
During such times, infiltrating the royal palace unnoticed was no easy task.
Arthur, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, finally spoke, “I will soon enter the palace to receive my knighthood.”
Due to his achievements in the subjugation force, he was set to be appointed as a royal knight.
Since it was a royal knighthood, King Vortigern himself would conduct the ceremony.
Arthur glared at the empty teacup with fierce eyes—as if staring at King Vortigern himself. His voice was low as he tightly gripped the teacup’s handle.
“Family members are allowed to accompany the knight at the ceremony. The two of you can enter the palace as my family.”
Everything was ready.
Sir Ector lightly brushed his rough palm. When he lifted his head—having been staring at the floor with a troubled gaze—his lips tightened as if he had made a decision.
“Very well. Then we should start preparing immediately; time is already short.”
As Sir Ector, he could hardly bear any fondness for Vortigern, who had made life difficult for both his lord and Arthur, whom he had raised with his own hands.
Now was the time to settle this long-standing grudge.
💫
For the first time in a while, the gates of Tir na Nog opened.
Morgana, draped in her robe and holding Manguin in her arms, observed the situation.
Since the shop had been closed due to a lack of herbs, public frustration had reached its peak.
“Twenty digestive tonics, please!”
“Are the herbs being properly supplied now?”
“Do you have any herbs for a sore throat?”
Percival looked overwhelmed by the sudden rush of customers, as if they had been waiting for this moment.
“Here’s your change! Ah, you don’t need to worry about herbs anymore! What kind of throat pain are you experiencing?”
Perhaps because the second VIP invitation was approaching after a long closure, the number of late-arriving servants from noble households was also considerable.
“Just to confirm, today’s purchases will count toward the VIP invitation quota, correct?”
Instead of the flustered Percival, Jayden smoothly handled the response.
At first, they had deferred to Percival, but now it seemed they were well-coordinated enough to handle basic questions on their own.
“Yes, of course! This week is the final tally.”
“Whew, what a relief. Our young lady kept saying she’d buy it later, but with the deadline closing in, she was absolutely frantic.”
“That serious? Do you even know what our VIP item of the month is?”
Jayden, who had been blankly listening to the butler’s lament, suddenly jerked their head back and asked in a puzzled tone.
The butler sighed as he checked the herbs filling the sack to their limit.
“These days, if you don’t serve medicinal tea, guests take it as a slight. But since it’s not something you can buy anytime, it’s traded under the table—at prices worth their weight in gold.”
It seemed most of the medicinal tea, which had once been plentiful due to overstocking, had already been depleted.
‘Guess it’s about time to reopen VIP access.’
Morgana left the shop and headed to the second floor. She needed to manage the staff in preparation for the second VIP phase.
Upon entering the second floor, she found the employees diligently cleaning.
With so many high-quality materials, daily maintenance was crucial—otherwise, wear and tear would show quickly.
The staff noticed Morgana and immediately bowed in greeting.
“You’re here?”
“How’s the inventory? If anything’s running low, we’ll need to restock, so report it to Percival by today.”
“Got it!”
Behind their energetic replies, the shop door jingled open.
A man in employee uniform stepped inside. The other staff greeted him.
“Oh, Bayel’s here?”
The man called Bayel glanced briefly at Morgana in her robe before turning away and casually nodding at the others.
Morgana blinked at him.
“…Bayel?”
The Bayel she remembered was a simple young man with deep red hair and freckles. But the employee before her now had gray hair and a rough, intimidating demeanor.
Unless Vaile died and became a completely new person, it was impossible, no matter how she thought about it.
Morgana deliberately knocked on the second-floor door to draw attention.
“There.”
As all eyes turned toward her, she openly pointed at the man called Bayel with a nod and asked,
“Who are you to just walk into the shop like this?”
“…And who might you be…?”
“I asked first.”
As Morgana brazenly pressed him, the man rolled his eyes and then had the audacity to raise his voice.
“I work here!”
“Well, I own this place.”
“…What?”
Publicly, Percival was the one managing the shop.
Since most customers only saw him, countless people assumed Percival was the owner. But the second-floor staff had met Morgana during their interviews, so they knew Percival was merely the general overseer of the herbs.
Therefore, not recognizing her meant only one thing.
“I’ve never seen you before. Come here.”
It meant he was an outsider.
As Morgana gestured, the man hesitated and stepped back, shouting, “Ba-bayel! I mistook you because of the robe!”
“Don’t joke around. Since when did Bayel get this old?”
As Morgana strode forward and signaled, the nearby staff asked in confusion,
“That’s not Bayel?”
Just then, Brenna came out from backstage. The first to spot Morgana, she greeted her, then looked at the man and blinked rapidly.
Soon, her pink eyes widened, and she pointed at him, shouting to Morgana,
“I sense magic from that man!”
Before her words even finished, the mercenaries hastily grabbed the man’s arms. He thrashed and shook his head.
“No, I really am Bayel!”
Step by step, Morgana approached and scrutinized him from head to toe.
The magic stone hanging from his necklace was clearly functioning as a magical artifact. She roughly yanked the necklace off his neck.
“What business do you have on the second floor, using forbidden magic artifacts?”
As his true appearance was revealed, the staff finally gasped and murmured in shock.
“That’s not Bayel!”
“Who is that?”
The man seemed to sense the gravity of the situation and hastily dropped to his knees.
“Sorry—so sorry! I only meant to take a few leaves after hearing how valuable the herbs are these days. I must’ve lost my mind for a moment.”
Instead of listening to his excuses, she turned her head, and the mercenaries dragged him away.
Watching the mercenaries handle him with practiced ease, the staff clicked their tongues.
“Honestly, if it weren’t for the young lady and Brenna, we’d have another thief on our hands. There’s never a peaceful day around here.”
Morgana tilted her head as she observed the exasperated staff.
“Has theft been frequent even in my absence?”
“Of course. Too many come disguised as magical tools, but Brenna catches them every time. We’re so lucky.”
Brenna, as if receiving praise for the first time, flushed and fidgeted with her hands.
Given her origins from a scorned kingdom, there had been concerns—but she seemed to be blending in well with the staff.
Morgana, too, was relieved she could see Brenna’s true form beyond the magical disguise. Rubbing her chin, she swallowed a short sigh.
‘This is the problem. There’s no way to detect a disguised form.’
At least, magical tools were visible to the eye—that was something to be grateful for.
The mercenaries who had left earlier returned, dusting off their chests—likely after handing the man over to others.
“Whew, thank goodness he wasn’t armed. That could’ve been messy.”
“Exactly. Aren’t you going to assign a personal guard, my lady? I thought Arthur would be by your side now that he’s back from the campaign.”
They hovered around Morgana, voicing their concerns.
“Where is Arthur anyway? Haven’t seen him much lately.”
At the question, Morgana shrugged.
“Who knows? No idea what he’s up to these days.”
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