Kay was in a truly foul mood. It wasn't just bad; it was a maelstrom of emotions, a delicate tempest churning within him.

  Ever since his nominal younger brother, Artorius—or rather, his younger sister, Altria—had drawn Caliburn and ascended to the throne of Britain years ago, his heart had been a battleground of conflicting feelings.

  Yet, seeing the sister he'd grown up with become the ruler of a nation, jealousy was the furthest thing from his mind.

  As a knight who held himself to the highest standards, he simply refused to let envy take root.

  And Altria had more than justified Caliburn's choice. Under her leadership, in just thirteen short years, she'd emerged victorious in all ten major battles.

  With the imperial forces outside the British Isles in decline, no longer able to safeguard the kingdom, Britain had flourished like never before.

  Kay's initial doubts about her ability to shoulder such a heavy burden had long since vanished.

  Now, all he desired was to wholeheartedly support her and lead the country to even greater heights. But then, about half a month ago, the girl, beloved and supported by the knights, had vanished without a trace.

  When Kay heard the news, a cold sweat broke out across his body. He was consumed by worry—both for Britain's future without its king and for Altria's safety.

  The trouble had started when patrolling soldiers near Camelot spotted a mysterious cavalry amidst a raging snowstorm.

  To preempt an attack from the Anglo, Altria had led a group, Lancelot among them, to investigate.

  The next day, the snowstorm had ceased as abruptly as it had arrived—and with it, Altria had disappeared.

  This incident had plunged Chief Knight Lancelot into the depths of self - blame. His sworn duty in Camelot was to protect the royal palace and the king's safety, yet he'd allowed Altria to vanish right before his eyes.

  It was a blatant dereliction of duty. But compared to Lancelot's guilt, the uncertainty surrounding Britain's fate without its Knight King was far more ominous.

  If it hadn't been for the magician Merlin returning to Camelot and suppressing the news, either the empire, eager to reclaim the British Isles, or the Anglo in the north would likely have already launched an attack.

  Then, this morning, just as Kay was preparing to resume his search for Altria, he received astonishing news: the girl had returned, unharmed.

  Happiness had struck like a bolt of lightning, unexpected and overwhelming.

  Without hesitation, he'd rushed towards the royal palace at breakneck speed.

  He needed to see her with his own eyes, though he trusted that since the message had come from Merlin, it was likely true.

  As soon as he stepped into the royal palace, he spotted Lancelot, the Chief Knight of the Knights of the Round Table.

  But the usually vibrant and courteous Knight of the Lake seemed oddly subdued.

  Clad in his everyday light armor, he sat slumped on a wooden chair in the front hall, his eyes fixed vacantly on a palm - sized piece of paper.

  On it was a strange portrait, an image that seemed to hold him in its thrall.

  To an onlooker unaware of the circumstances, it would have been easy to assume that Lancelot, whose popularity in Britain rivaled that of Tristan and Percival, had fallen victim to love's spell.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  But Kay knew better.

  "Knight Lancelot, has our king returned?" Kay's voice echoed through the hall as his iron - shod boots creaked against the stone floor, shattering the Chief Knight's reverie.

  Lancelot lifted his haggard face, his eyes meeting Kay's as he approached. Since Altria's disappearance, Lancelot had been tirelessly searching for her, scouring the areas around Camelot day and night.

  He'd even dispatched subordinates to the Anglo's camp in the northern mountains.

  Kay was certain that if the Anglo had dared to attack the king during the chaos, Lancelot would have been the first to charge into battle, with the rest of the Knights of the Round Table hot on his heels.

  "Um... Knight Kay, our king returned safely this morning and is currently in conversation with Mr. Merlin," Lancelot replied weakly.

  But Kay knew Lancelot well enough to sense that something was amiss.

  This wasn't just the fatigue of long - hours; Lancelot was a knight who could maintain his composure and courtesy even in the heat of battle, engaging in combat while still responding politely to his fellow knights.

  Kay's curiosity was piqued by the playing card in Lancelot's hand.

  At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary trinket, nothing remarkable about it. "Knight Lancelot, forgive my boldness, but you seem out of sorts today. Is it due to exhaustion?"

  "Tired? No, Knight Kay. Compared to my failure to answer our king's question, a little fatigue is insignificant." Lancelot deftly flipped the card between his fingers, years of sword - handling giving him a practiced ease.

  His voice was laced with disappointment. "I am a knight the king trusts, yet I couldn't even answer the first question she asked upon her return.

  I realize how little I know, and I feel ashamed that I've let her down."

  "Hold on, Knight Lancelot," Kay exclaimed, halting mid - stride with palpable eagerness.

  "What question did our king pose? Was it regarding the empire's machinations? Or perhaps the kingdom's tax revenues from the past year?"

  " Maybe she plans to launch an offensive against the remaining Anglo forces in the north? But no, you, Knight Lancelot, would surely answer such queries with ease. Could it be that she intends to replan Camelot City? "

  "That would be a massive undertaking. Given last year's grain harvest and this year's population census, we could recruit laborers without disrupting spring farming..."

  Lancelot offered a rueful smile as he listened to Kay's rapid - fire speculation.

  "No, Knight Kay, it's nothing of the sort. If it were merely matters of governance, I might have been of some assistance."

  Kay nodded in agreement. "You're right. It doesn't seem like an order our king would issue." He knew Altria well; she was not one to seek glory.

  Despite her numerous victories, she hadn't even renovated the royal palace.

  Camelot had grown, with new buildings sprouting up, yet the central castle remained much as it had been in King Uther's time.

  Suddenly, another thought struck Kay. "Could she be planning to cross the sea and attack Gaule? Is she set on eliminating the threat from the empire once and for all?"

  Britain had once been an imperial province.

  During the empire's turbulent times, the Celts had vanquished the remaining imperial troops and asserted control over the land.

  In the past, the empire would never have tolerated a provincial rebellion, but with Rome in disarray, it had neglected the distant British Isles.

  Now, however, Empress Nero had triumphed over her rivals, reuniting the provinces and compelling the governors to swear allegiance.

  The resurgent empire now cast a covetous eye on the lost territory of Britain.

  "This would be momentous news! But I have no doubt that under our king's leadership, we'll rout the imperial legions!" Kay declared, clapping his hands with confidence.

  Having witnessed Altria lead the Knights of the Round Table to ten consecutive major victories, the people of Camelot had unwavering faith in her leadership.

  As long as she sat on the throne, they would follow her into any battle, their swords drawn at her command.

  Lancelot shook his head again.

  "It's not about the empire. It's this." He held up the playing card, and Kay then noticed the stack of similar cards in his other hand.

  Beneath Kay's confused gaze, Lancelot hung his head in guilt.

  "Our king asked if I'd play Gwent with her... Gwent! Our king rarely makes requests, and this was such a simple one. "

  "She frets over Camelot's future day in and day out. All she wanted was to play a game of Gwent during a break, a moment of respite. "

  "And I couldn't even grant her that. She works herself to the bone, and when she finally seeks a bit of relaxation, I let her down. I feel like I've betrayed her trust."

  Kay stared at the dejected Lancelot, speechless. Then, Lancelot shot up suddenly, a determined glint in his eyes.

  "Knight Kay! I'm entrusting you with castle guard duty for the time being," Lancelot said earnestly, placing a firm hand on Kay's shoulder.

  "I've made up my mind. I'm going home to master Gwent. "

  "I won't rest until I can wipe that disappointed look from the king's face. "

  "Sharing her burdens is my duty as a knight, and I know you understand that better than anyone!"