The temple was a place open to all, so Arthur’s presence wasn’t an issue in itself.
However, since it was an official banquet, a certain level of formality was expected as a matter of courtesy.
Arthur’s hunting attire stood out in many ways.
Even Guinevere hesitated and stepped back upon seeing the remnants of battle with monsters still evident on his clothes.
Morgana struggled to hide her surprise at his unexpected appearance.
“How did Arthur get here?”
“By carriage.”
Well, of course. It wasn’t as if he had walked.
Even after delivering this absurd response, he remained unfazed. Instead, he continued as if he had been waiting for this moment.
“I heard that as soon as the hunt ended, you pulled the sword.”
‘That sword is Arthur’s sword! Your sword!’
Morgana glanced at Excalibur with a hint of anticipation. Now that the sword’s true owner was here, perhaps they would feel something.
Unfortunately, his taste was quite clear.
— What’s this? His clothes are dirty, and he’s bulky.
‘Well, to each their own.’
It was a stark contrast to his reaction when he saw Nimue.
What could she do? He clearly preferred saints with a decadent charm.
They say opposites attract, and Excalibur was exactly that.
Arthur, standing silently before her, didn’t demand an answer. It was simply a dry report of his return.
“I heard you’ve been granted a knighthood for your achievements in the hunt.”
Already aware of this, Morgana smoothly offered her congratulations.
“As expected of Arthur. Congratulations!”
Arthur, who had been looking down as a formality, raised his head. His solemn gaze, seemingly indifferent to the chaotic surroundings, urged her on.
“You are to become the King of Britain, so please bestow knighthood upon me.”
Guinevere, who had been curiously peeking from the side, lit up with interest. She seemed to have found the perfect opportunity.
“Right, Morgana. To grant knighthood, you’d have to become king, wouldn’t you? Since you’re here at the temple, shall we set a date?”
Before even hearing a response, she turned to Merlin beside her, covering her mouth with a fan and smiling slyly.
“High Priest. When would be a good date for our wedding?”
“Oh my, could we discuss this after the banquet? This isn’t the right place to choose an auspicious date.”
“Of course.”
Even Merlin innocently smiled and agreed with her.
As they casually exchanged words, Morgana began to sweat nervously.
‘At this rate, I’ll really end up marrying the princess and going on a honeymoon to Britain!’
Desperately, Morgana clenched her fists and shouted toward Arthur, as if wanting everyone to hear.
“First, there’s something Arthur needs to know. I am not currently the King of Britain! Nor will I be in the future, or ever!”
She tried to appear stern, narrowing her eyes, but Guinevere merely glanced over and continued.
“High Priest. Shall we have tea tomorrow morning? I’ve brought a famous medicinal tea from Britain as a gift.”
“Medicinal tea? How precious.”
They carried on their conversation without a care.
Even Arthur, who had clearly heard the answer, showed no reaction. His eyes widened as he saw King Vortigern sitting firmly on the throne.
Given Arthur’s personality, he would never accept knighthood from him.
Sure enough, without a hint of hesitation, Arthur’s response came.
“I am not a subject of King Vortigern.”
A subtle hint of resentment could be heard in his voice. This was the one area where Arthur, usually skilled at hiding his emotions, couldn’t help but react.
‘Given how his family was purged, it’s understandable…’
At the same time, Bedivere, who had been standing like a painting, turned his gaze toward Arthur.
Perhaps sensing similar emotions, the already stern lines on his forehead deepened into furrows.
Arthur gazed directly at Morgana.
“I will become a knight in the Britain you rule.”
“You might end up never becoming a knight, then.”
“Then I’ll remain a mercenary. Or become your guard.”
He wasn’t joking. Ironically, the first one to react angrily to his words was none other than Excalibur.
A voice filled with palpable anger echoed in Morgana’s mind.
— You’re implying I can’t protect my master, aren’t you? Huh? That’s exactly how noble ladies talk, isn’t it!
Her hand gripping the sword trembled slightly. She was worried it might actually start moving on its own.
Just then, a large hand clad in black gloves gently covered the back of her hand holding the sword.
There was only one person with hands and gloves large enough to almost completely obscure Morgana’s hand.
From beside her, Kellive’s soft voice chimed in kindly.
“If you’re appointing knights in Britain, take someone from Avalon with you too.”
He tilted his head and smiled at Morgana.
“You know, Morgana, I’m a seasoned professional.”
As if jogging her memory, he casually spread one hand and gestured to his chest.
Arthur’s calm gaze, not understanding the meaning, swept over Kellive and then her.
Morgana awkwardly cleared her throat, trying to lighten the mood.
“Then who will guard Avalon?”
“There’s a very loyal knight named Gawain and a delicate advisor. I’ve often received their help when meeting you.”
‘Is that really okay?’
A genuine doubt crossed her mind, but for some reason, Kellive didn’t seem too concerned.
Meanwhile, Bedivere stared at her with a deeply troubled expression, his brows furrowed.
Just then, a priest approached him cautiously.
“Um, Sir Bedivere. There’s been a fight among the priests…”
The voice, filled with embarrassment, snapped Bedivere out of his thoughts.
“If it’s a personal dispute, I can’t intervene.”
“It’s not that. Priest Asen has been missing since this afternoon. We’ve searched the entire temple, but he’s nowhere to be found.”
Though the voice was soft, the familiar name caught everyone’s attention.
‘Asen? Isn’t that the priest who guided me this morning?’
Morgana was sure she had seen him earlier in the afternoon.
Bedivere glanced around briefly before responding.
“With so many visitors today, perhaps he’s just resting somewhere, tired.”
“No. He was supposed to check the remaining rooms in the temple with me, but he broke the promise and disappeared. He’s never done that before…”
Morgana tilted her head and casually joined the conversation.
Kellive and Arthur’s gazes followed, but she pretended not to notice and spoke up.
“Priest Asen? He was guiding me this morning. If he’s missing, why are the priests fighting?”
At Morgana’s question, Merlin, who had been talking to Guinevere, turned his gaze toward her.
The priest, feeling the sudden attention, began to sweat and stammered.
“Well, they’re fighting because they blame each other for Priest Asen’s disappearance.”
Hearing this, Kellive swallowed hard and muttered under his breath.
“They’re certain he’s gone missing.”
Sensing something was off, Bedivere nodded toward Merlin and gave instructions.
“Bring those two here. I’ll hear their stories myself.”
💫
“Well, Anun had Asen’s handkerchief, didn’t he?”
The short-haired priestess Rhiannon pointed at the priest Anun beside her with her hand.
At her accusation, Anun jumped up and shouted.
“It was just in the room! What nonsense are you talking about?”
“You’ve been complaining about Asen snoring when he sleeps, haven’t you?”
“That’s because we share the same room! How does that mean I took his handkerchief?”
Even in the corner of the spacious hall, where few people were present, their voices grew loud enough to draw the attention of all the guests.
The orchestra’s music couldn’t drown out their indignant cries.
Merlin, smiling warmly at the crowd, spoke, “Please don’t mind this and enjoy yourselves. Even temples are places where people live, so things like this happen occasionally.”
Conflicts among attendants were common in palaces or noble mansions, after all.
The guests, who had briefly shown interest, awkwardly averted their gazes at Merlin’s request, though they still glanced around to gauge the situation.
Morgana also found Priestess Rhiannon’s face vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it.
It wasn’t someone she often saw, but the feeling was unsettling, like she’d forgotten something important before leaving.
‘Ah, it’s that feeling of leaving something behind right before going out…’
As she narrowed her eyes, trying to recall, Excalibur chimed in first.
— Isn’t that the one who clung to the priests when Tristan was around? You know, the one who was stunned when you lifted me.
Finally, Morgana remembered the priestess who had questioned Tristan about the situation at the time.
Indeed, their conversation back then suggested they were close. Bedivere rubbed his chin and asked again.
“I don’t see what the problem is with the handkerchief.”
Rhiannon answered immediately, as if she’d been waiting for the question.
“It’s a keepsake from Asen’s mother! He never lets it out of his sight, even when he sleeps. How could he just leave it in the room? It doesn’t make sense!”
“That’s why I picked it up! I didn’t steal it!”
Anun, fuming, had tears welling up in her eyes. She wiped her eyes and cried out in frustration.
“No, this morning Asen suddenly asked me about the Caledon Forest. So I thought maybe he went there and asked Rhiannon, but then she accused me like this!”
The Caledon Forest was the same place Morgana had asked about earlier that morning regarding Tristan.
Morgana leaned in slightly and asked, “What time this morning?”
“It was right before the guests started arriving, so early morning.”
At the same time, Kellive kindly added, “We had our tea time in the afternoon, right, Morgana?”
Comments (0)