It seemed it wasn’t the tea time she had envisioned, as Guinevere, who had been pretending to keep up formalities until now, tousled her hair and expressed her regret.
It appeared she had some sort of plan.
Guinevere quietly made a request to the guard beside her.
“Could you fetch Sir Lancelot?”
“Yes, of course. Shall I escort him this way?”
“That would be good. As quickly as possible.”
“Understood.”
While she was giving instructions, Morgana deliberately smiled brightly and spoke to Mordred first.
“A tea time without tea is a bit lacking, isn’t it? How about we arrange to meet separately another time?”
“I’d like that very much, if you permit it, sister.”
As if it were what he had been hoping for, Mordred nodded quickly.
His round eyes had been anxiously scanning the surroundings all this time.
Agrivaine, who had tactfully understood the hint to dismiss the guests, quietly suggested to him,
“Since it has been a while since the two of you met, perhaps it would be best to take your leave now?”
Seemingly disappointed, Mordred’s nose bridge wrinkled slightly.
It was clear that Agrivaine had a significant influence on him as a mentor, more than one might expect.
It was outwardly obvious that he was a trusted knight, so much so that even the arrogant Marquis was confident in him.
When Mordred didn’t answer immediately, Agrivaine urged him again, almost like a persuasion:
“You’ve already had your tea, and Lady Morgana hasn’t been back from the temple for long, has she?”
Only then did the child’s stubbornness soften.
Though he tried hard to hide his disappointment, his drooping expression betrayed him as he said his goodbyes.
After finishing his greetings, Mordred walked away with his characteristically childlike, innocent steps.
Just as Agravain was about to leave the garden.
Lancelot was entering in response to Guinevere’s summons.
After giving a slight nod to Agravain, he laughed brightly, his pink hair flowing.
“Ah, Lady Morgana, you’re here too?”
“What do you mean, Sir Lancelot? I’m the one who called for you.”
When Guinevere snorted in disbelief, he simply laughed with an easygoing smile.
“I knew you called for me, but I didn’t expect Lady Morgana to be here at all.”
The conversation was warm and friendly.
Agravain watched the three’s familiar dynamic with sharp eyes. He observed them too meticulously for it to be just a casual glance among acquaintances.
Lancelot asked Guinevere nonchalantly,
“What did you need? I thought I had already told you everything from Avalon.”
“Ah, there’s something I’d like you to investigate…”
Before Guinevere could finish her sentence, Morgana deliberately interrupted and changed the subject.
“Lancelot, when did you return from Avalon?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Lancelot’s gentle eyes wandered momentarily into empty space.
After a brief silence, as if reading the atmosphere, he picked up on the cue and answered loudly with a bright laugh.
“Ah, I returned as soon as it was over. We had to hold the knights’ funeral, after all.”
“Oh my. You must be busy!”
“Well, no matter how busy I am, I could never compare to you, Lady Morgana.”
Only Guinevere, who didn’t understand the context of the casual conversation, looked around in confusion with a furrowed brow.
“What? What is everyone talking about?”
Agravain, having meticulously observed the dynamics between the three, turned his back.
During his time away from Britain, he had made sure to understand all the changed relationships around him.
Guinevere had never been involved in a scandal before.
Thanks to the oracle, no marriage proposals had come her way, and she herself kept her distance from banquets and social gatherings, so she hardly ever met anyone.
And the person she had brought back for this so-called marriage was Morgana.
‘I remember the Lake family wasn’t close to her before.’
Lancelot also didn’t seem like the type of person Guinevere would keep close. He was an endlessly frivolous and lighthearted man.
A handsome knight who lavished winks and autographs on all sorts of palace attendants.
And he was the first person she called when a problem arose?
‘I heard he was even sent as an envoy…’
That meant he was one of her most trusted confidants.
Mordred, who had been walking briskly ahead, turned around and asked.
“Master, your expression is strange.”
Innocent eyes looked at him and asked.
“Is that so?”
At his question, the young prince nodded.
“You looked like you were thinking of something bad.”
Children sometimes peer into the abyss with surprising clarity.
Agravain quickly schooled his expression.
“Not at all. Let’s go in.”
💫
After Agravain had left and the sound of his footsteps and even his shadow had disappeared, Lancelot finally grinned and asked.
“So, what was it?”
“What? What are you two talking about? What happened between you two in Avalon?”
Guinevere, so frustrated she was on the verge of collapsing, leaned forward as if about to jump out of her seat.
Lancelot shrugged his shoulders defiantly.
“I tried to seduce Lady Morgana a bit. It was tough since she didn’t give in.”
At his endlessly light tone, Guinevere’s brow furrowed deeply. She glared at him fiercely, then thumped back against her chair and ordered,
“Then get lost immediately. I must be insane to have considered asking someone like you about our Mordred.”
Lancelot stood there, grinning cheerfully, as if it didn’t matter to him at all, appearing both polite and casual.
He tapped the table twice, knock-knock, as if checking the empty table.
“Now that I think about it, it’s quite modest for teatime. I thought a princess like you would have prepared something more lavish.”
“They said there was some kind of smell coming from the desserts and tea that were prepared. No one could smell it except Mordred.”
“Hmm, I’ve never heard of such a thing… I’ll look into it, at least.”
After hearing his cheerful reply, Guinevere frowned and asked,
“Are you really not going to tell me what the two of you talked about?”
Morgana, who had been quietly watching, subtly broke her silence.
“You know, could you possibly stick close to Sir Lancelot for a while?”
“Whaat? Why would I do that with this guy?”
Guinevere shuddered as if she had just heard the most outrageous thing in the world.
Lancelot chuckled softly at her reaction, watching as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Ah, now even I am a little wounded by that…”
“Don’t lie. You don’t look wounded at all.”
“Well, is it my fault I’m handsome?”
Guinevere shook her head decisively, as if it was clearly hopeless.
Pointing a finger directly at him as he stood there, she appealed to Morgana.
“See, Morgana. You want me to stick with this guy? Do you even know how notorious his reputation is across Britain?”
She knew. Had she not witnessed his grandeur even in Avalon?
His manners and fan service were so exceptional they could turn young ladies who had never even properly seen him into fans.
Moreover, the fact that no one dared to criticize the Knight Commander—often considered the face of Britain—for his seemingly frivolous and easygoing behavior was a testament to his remarkable standing.
Even back when she worked as a maid, she had seen countless people who supported and adored him just from watching him.
She had personally experienced just how quickly rumors spread based on whether or not he was participating in a jousting tournament.
That was precisely why she needed him.
“I know. That’s why I’m asking you to think of it as just being his escort for a little while.”
“I don’t mind, but I’m not sure if the Princess will be okay with it.”
When he nodded without hesitation, Guinevere quickly switched gears as well.
“Think I’m going to lose? You were going to investigate the Mordred issue anyway. Might as well provide an escort while you’re at it. Not that you seem particularly reliable, though.”
Hearing the reluctant permission, Morgana turned her head to stare at the spot where Agravain had disappeared.
He was a character who had appeared frequently in the original story as well.
She had forgotten because she had twisted the novel’s plot so much, but there was one distinct similarity.
Then and now, he wanted to give the throne to Mordred.
The only difference was that the target was no longer Arthur, but Morgana—her.
‘Back then, at least Merlin’s prophecy was still firmly in place….’
Morgana distinctly felt the serpent-like gaze that had been fixed upon Lancelot and Guinevere in turn.
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