"He really is back, Lancelot..."
Guinevere returned to her room, changed into her training attire, and then went back to the training ground where she had already spent the entire morning.
The first thing she saw was Lancelot, sparring with Bedivere and Tristan simultaneously, yet still managing to overwhelm them both.
It had been over two months since she'd last seen him. The Knight of the Lake, whom she had met only once, looked haggard—nothing like a man about to be married.
Don't tell me... he's really been obsessed with me since that one glance?
Lost in thought, Guinevere, now dressed in her training gear, didn't approach immediately. She watched the fight, searching for any weakness in Lancelot's swordsmanship.
But even after Tristan and Bedivere were defeated one after the other, Guinevere couldn't find the opening she was looking for. Lancelot's sword technique was too refined, too flawless in its execution.
"Though for different reasons than the King of Knights," she murmured to herself, "he's another knight I can't defeat in a direct confrontation right now..."
Murmuring to herself, she recalled her fight with the King of Knights. The King of Knights had relied on her [Instinct] to cover her weaknesses, leaving Guinevere utterly helpless.
Lancelot, on the other hand, relied purely on his martial skill.
"Whether in a real battle or a sparring match, Lancelot is the only one whose martial skill alone makes me feel I can't win. In that regard, he's even more formidable."
As a warrior, how could she not feel a thrill upon encountering a stronger opponent?
Though Guinevere didn't want to face Lancelot, her hands were already itching to personally test his flawless swordsmanship.
She pondered, hesitated, then gritted her teeth...
Lancelot brought Elaine back and is willing to marry her. Doesn't this mean the story has already changed?
In the original tale, Elaine was abandoned immediately after their one night together. This led to Galahad, their son, having a strained relationship with Lancelot even after becoming a Round Table Knight.
Besides, even if I can't trust anyone else, I must trust myself. Whether fate is inescapable or not, I will absolutely never fall for Lancelot and repeat the tragedy of the story.
Guinevere was trying to convince herself, finding every possible excuse to indulge her itching hands.
"I am the King of Knights' consort, and Lancelot is her strongest knight. Even if he leaves Camelot again for a time, I can't avoid him forever...
"Alright, I'm done making excuses! I just want to fight Lancelot!"
In the end, her desire to wield her sword completely overwhelmed her disdain for Lancelot.
Or perhaps, Guinevere's confidence that she would never fall for a man had utterly conquered her fear of the fate Lancelot represented.
He's Lancelot, not the female Fairy Knight Lancelot. What do I have to be afraid of?
With this final thought to bolster her resolve, Guinevere stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight, announcing her presence to the knights in the training ground.
"Queen."
"Queen."
"Your Highness."
The King of Knights' knights addressed Guinevere as "Queen," while her own knights called her "Your Highness." Regardless of the title, their demeanor was relaxed. Some offered a half-bow, others simply waved, and one even just smiled and plucked a lute string.
Among all the knights, only Lancelot dropped to one knee, offering a full, formal salute to Guinevere as Queen.
Guinevere didn't know that her unreasonable command had caused Lancelot to think of her name every day, replaying the image of her on horseback in his mind.
His two months away had not diminished the dazzling impression she'd left on him; instead, it had ensnared him as if by a spell.
Seeing her again after two months brought Lancelot a sense of fulfillment, yet that very fulfillment felt like a knife twisting in his heart.
He finally understood why, after he'd sobered up that day, his fiancée, Princess Elaine, had furiously smashed a wine cup against his face and demanded, "Are you trying to betray the King of Knights?!"
"Queen, I..."
"Rise. There's no need for such ceremony. And... draw your sword!"
Guinevere stared down at the bowing Lancelot, completely missing the mix of joy and anguish on his face.
But even if she had seen it, Guinevere, who had already armed herself with countless excuses, would not have backed down.
As Lancelot hesitated to rise, Guinevere had already taken up a blunted training greatsword.
"Come," she said, her stance upright and dignified, her eyes gleaming with a fascination for martial arts. "Let me witness the prowess of the undefeated Knight of the Lake."
That gaze reminded Lancelot of his former self. Back then, his thoughts had been as pure as water, focused solely on becoming stronger each day.
To be frank, Lancelot was no longer young. Abandoned as an infant, he had been raised by the Lady of the Lake. After leaving Avalon, he had searched for his blood relatives and discovered he was the older brother of Sir Ector, the King of Knights' adoptive father.
By lineage, both Kay and the King of Knights should have called him "Great-Uncle."
This complicated relationship was no small part of Lancelot's inner torment.
The thoughts flashed through his mind and vanished. Lancelot, still youthful in appearance, recalled his past, his true age, and his seniority. For a rare moment, he managed to suppress the forbidden feelings in his heart and offered Guinevere a bright, open smile.
"Queen," he said, "I await your instruction."
Though they wielded identical swords, the moment Lancelot casually held his, Guinevere felt as if she were facing an immovable mountain. The thrusts she could land against the King of Knights were now utterly impossible to execute.
She realized her earlier optimism had been naive. Tristan's judgment had also been flawed; a serious Lancelot was worth far more than three Tristans.
Back in the King of Knights' throne room, Artoria made less and less effort to hide her amusement. Her smile seemed to spur Agravain to work even more diligently.
"My King, what's happening in the training ground now?"
"Guinevere is sparring with Sir Lancelot. She's getting her butt kicked."
"Huh? The Queen is getting her butt kicked, and you're happy about it, my King?"
"Because Guinevere always gets the better of me."
Though the King of Knights said this, as Guinevere fell further and further behind, her smile gradually faded, replaced by a flicker of worry on her face.
Yet, as she watched, she couldn't help but admire Guinevere's resilience. Though on the verge of defeat multiple times, Guinevere somehow managed to force openings in Lancelot's defense, creating precious moments to catch her breath.
Indeed, under such intense pressure, Guinevere's sword technique was rapidly evolving. She shifted from probing for weaknesses to actively creating them by guiding her opponent's movements during high-speed exchanges.
With Lancelot—an opponent who surpassed her in every way—guiding her through the fight, Guinevere's swordsmanship was improving at a visible rate.
She's probably hit a plateau in her swordsmanship right around our first spar, the King of Knights thought.
Beneath her flicker of worry, the King of Knights was mostly happy for Guinevere. She was thrilled that her partner could cross swords with her strongest knight.
She believed that after this duel, these two martial arts enthusiasts would surely resolve their differences and get along better.
"My King, are you not concerned about Sir Lancelot's covetous gaze toward the Queen?"
"Sir Agravain, why would I think such a thing?"
"My King, I have eyes. Look at them in the training ground. The tenderness in Lancelot's eyes when he looks at the Queen... that is not the expression a subordinate should have."
"Sir Agravain, does looking at Guinevere with tenderness automatically mean he covets her?"
Below the throne, at the Round Table, Agravain suppressed his frustration. He understood that his King was too young and, despite being married, still didn't understand love.
So, he dropped the subject and said earnestly, "My King, since you do not understand, then until you do, I will watch Lancelot like a hawk to prevent him from acting in any way unbecoming of a subordinate!"
Just as Agravain couldn't understand why the King was so "clueless about love," the King of Knights couldn't understand why Agravain was so... angry?
"Sir Agravain, regardless of Sir Lancelot's feelings, I believe Guinevere will never fall for him. After spending these past two months with her, she..."
The King of Knights trailed off, unable to continue without revealing her own secret—that she was a woman, and Guinevere was only attracted to women.
Her gaze returned to the training ground, and her brow furrowed. As the threat level rose, a serious Sir Lancelot was no longer casually guiding Guinevere. He was being forced to unleash lethal strikes.
At this rate...
"My King? Are you going down there?"
"No, I'm returning to my chambers. Guinevere... she's been injured after all."
After the marriage, the King of Knights had slightly neglected her court duties. But Agravain welcomed this neglect, for it made the King of Knights seem more human.
As for the extra work that piled up due to the King's neglect, Agravain would simply work overtime himself.
I hope the King will one day understand what his worries and smiles truly mean.
Remaining by the Round Table, Agravain watched the King of Knights' departing figure with a smile on his lips.
In terms of family relations, this was his 'younger male cousin,' after all.