"Actually, it's not a bad thing for Camelot to have a princess. Just think about it—wouldn't it be interesting to have a child as cute as my king?"
Merry smiled as she spoke to the silent crowd.
The knights looked up briefly, then immediately lowered their heads.
Normally, Merry would use magic to disguise herself as her former male self. Until now, only a few knew she had transformed into Merry. But in recent months, the white-haired girl who occasionally appeared beside a certain male knight, confessing love and seducing him, was obviously connected to him. The knights who knew the truth felt a mix of shame and embarrassment when facing Merry.
Kay felt this especially keenly.
He seemed ready to draw his sword and cut that man down on the spot—but couldn't bear the shame and inner conflict.
Luckily, male knights were ashamed, but the female knights were not.
Skadi raised her greatsword and said, "Our king is right. The hidden dangers must be completely eliminated."
Morgan and Manaka stood on Merry's left and right, each holding one of her arms.
"Merlin, I need to discuss the recent research direction of the Magicians Group."
"Yes, I also have some questions about magic."
"Eh? Eh! Wait! I didn't mean it. No, no, please let me go!!!"
Merry's screams gradually faded down the corridor.
Seeing this, the others exchanged farewells and returned to their duties.
The burden on them was heavy.
Only one knight remained in the room, head bowed, fists clenched tightly until they rattled.
He was Lancelot.
The head of the Round Table looked grim. A few months ago, when Camelot was just beginning to show its strength, he had done something utterly unchivalrous by coincidence.
That incident shamed him, yet he did not regret it.
Then he repeated it—a second time, a third, a fourth.
Months ago, Lancelot, originally in charge of the legion, was suddenly asked by Gawain to temporarily take over the Knights Guard.
Everything was normal until he saw a letter addressed to Arthur.
The letter came from King Leodegrance, proposing a political marriage between Arthur and Leodegrance's daughter.
How could he tolerate that?
Lancelot tore the letter apart on the spot.
But since then, he worried. A king who could set aside pride and propose marriage wouldn't give up easily. He watched closely—and sure enough, it happened again and again: second, third, and fourth times.
Each time, Lancelot intercepted and destroyed the letters perfectly.
But he never expected the fifth time would happen in Arthur's presence.
Though it ultimately failed, it was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.
No! This cannot continue!
Assassinate that old bastard King Leodegrance. No—better yet, kill both father and daughter thoroughly!
Yes, that's right! Please, Sir Agravain... It's absolutely impossible otherwise.
Lancelot seethed, already thinking about whether he could apply for leave soon.
"My king, I will never let you get involved with that kind of bad woman!"
Unfortunately, a month and a half later, Lancelot realized his resolve was useless.
Because he didn't apply for leave.
In fact, Camelot officials were all extremely busy. Especially with Arthur teaching daily—who dared skip class? Anyone who tried was sure to be assassinated by colleagues that night, and never attend class again.
Under those circumstances, who would dare request leave?
Thinking of peaches…
But the worst was yet to come. Today, King Leodegrance himself visited Camelot, bringing his daughter.
The most outrageous part? Lancelot, as head of the Round Table, was assigned to personally protect them and to observe subsequent talks.
It was like being slapped in the face—and he had to smile through the bitterness.
This broken Round Table—today, I, Lancelot, will do it for my king!
No longer gentle, the Knight of the Lake led Leodegrance and his daughter to Arthur, face dark with anger.
At the door, his face turned green. This was too much.
"King Arthur, what do you think about this matter? If you don't agree, that's fine, but at least give me an answer!"
King Leodegrance showed obvious anger upon seeing Arthur.
As a king, he had humiliated himself by proposing marriage and offering his daughter—and yet, Arthur ignored him.
The last British Kings' Council meeting brushed it off with a few words.
How could he not be furious?
Arthur was utterly confused.
"What's going on? What reply?"
"What is this matter you speak of?" Arthur asked cautiously.
"How dare you ask me? Of course, it's about your marriage proposal to my daughter! I sent you four letters, all ignored! Do you look down on me, or my daughter?" King Leodegrance's frustration showed plainly.
He loved his daughter dearly, having spoiled her since childhood. Prophecy said she'd marry a noble, brave, and wise man.
She fulfilled that destiny, becoming a graceful lady, famous across the British Isles for her stunning beauty—enough to make all men's hearts race.
If circumstances hadn't forced him, and if Arthur didn't fit the prophecy's image, he would never have thought of marrying her to Arthur.
But Arthur's cold indifference humiliated both father and daughter.
"I came here for an explanation."
"Marriage? Ah, that," Arthur smiled nervously. Though clueless, he feigned understanding.
"I haven't replied, but I didn't mean to slight you."
Arthur dared not underestimate King Leodegrance.
After asking Aguguiwen for information, he almost fainted. The king himself was unremarkable, his tribe's strength average—but his daughter was important and closely tied to Arthur.
Her name—Guinevere.
No one dared meddle with that.
Arthur was scared.
"As you can see, these documents on my desk are all government affairs. Camelot is at a critical stage. With Saxon threats looming, I must focus on Britain's growth. You enjoy Camelot's provisions—so you should understand the effort required to supply the north."
Daring not to provoke was one thing—but Arthur was no coward.
Guinevere, source of the dynasty's civil strife, haha—