Galahad naturally ignored the obvious signs that his disdain toward Lancelot was well-known. After all, how would Lancelot know the real reason for his animosity? Of course, it was because of what Queen Morgan had told him. There was no other reason that made sense.
Meanwhile, Lancelot, trying to recover his pride after facing overwhelming odds, grumbled, "Three... No, four people against one, is that a victory worth boasting about?" He realized midway that Merlin, who had mysteriously disappeared during the fight, also played a role. He adjusted his count to four.
Hearing this, both Kay and Altria blushed. Indeed, ganging up on someone wasn't exactly an honourable victory, and they both felt a bit ashamed. Galahad, however, remained unfazed—there was no need to talk about honour when it came to beating his father. As for Morgan and Lott, they had already interfered in the battle with their tactics, so they hardly cared about the formalities.
Ignoring Lancelot's complaints, Morgan pressed him, "Now that we've put that aside, I want to know more about who you are. All I know so far is that your name is Lancelot."
Lancelot, maintaining his dignity despite being their prisoner, replied, "I am Lancelot, a knight from France."
He glanced at Morgan, expecting her to ask about his specific title or lineage, but her next question took him by surprise.
"How old are you?" Morgan asked curiously.
"Twenty," Lancelot responded without thinking.
Morgan's expression immediately changed. "Twenty?" she repeated, disbelief clear in her voice. If Lancelot was truly twenty, then how old was Galahad, his son, standing right beside him? Seven or eight at most? And already this strong? The thought left her in a state of deep suspicion about reality.
Lancelot misinterpreted her silence, thinking she was about to impose some harsh punishment on him. "What's the matter? If you want to punish me, go ahead! I'm not afraid," he declared, his tone defiant and brave.
Both Morgan and Lott exchanged confused glances. Punish him? Why would they do that?
"I have another question," Morgan continued. "Are you willing to work for us?"
Lancelot raised his brows, taken aback by the directness of the request. He frowned, then responded with righteous conviction, "Your Highness Morgan, I won't agree to that."
"Are you sure?" Morgan asked once more, her tone turning serious.
"Yes," Lancelot replied firmly.
"Alright then," Morgan said with a sly grin. "Tie him up and let him go hungry for a few days. Let's see if he still refuses."
Lancelot's eyes widened in shock. "What?! You can't be serious! I'm a knight, a noble! You can't treat me like this!"
He looked around, pleading silently for anyone to intervene. But Kay, Galahad, and Lott were all unbothered by Morgan's order. Even Altria, who had initially thought it was too cruel, reconsidered when she saw Morgan's warning look. Morgan made it clear that if Altria spoke up, she'd be next to go hungry. Faced with the choice of starving Lancelot or herself, Altria quickly opted to stay silent, trusting that Lancelot, as a knight, could endure it.
And so, Lancelot was dragged away, protesting all the while. Surprisingly, Galahad, who was supposed to have some sympathy as Lancelot's son, actually looked rather pleased with the situation. For him, seeing his father in such a predicament was oddly satisfying.
Once Lancelot was gone, Altria couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. She turned to Morgan and tried to change the subject. "Your Majesty Morgan, considering that Merlin played a significant role in capturing Lancelot, shouldn't we reward him?"
Morgan and Lott shared a knowing smile. "Yes, we should thank him," Lott said, amusement in his voice. Both of them silently acknowledged how Merlin had likely orchestrated much of the chaos for his amusement.
With Lancelot's fate settled, Morgan and Lott turned their attention to the upcoming Northern Expedition. The key to their strategy was to first solidify control of Orkney, the region under Lott's rule. It was an important hub, connecting both land and sea routes, making it the ideal launching point for their campaign. The goal was to clear out any remaining opposition in the north and push Vortigern's forces further west, weakening his hold on Wales.
With plans made, preparations for the army were soon underway. Lott assembled three hundred knights and six thousand soldiers. Though the numbers weren't enormous, their strength lay in their elite combatants. Altria, Galahad, and even Merlin, despite his penchant for mischief, were among the best fighters in Britain.
Merlin, of course, tried to wriggle his way out of the expedition, protesting repeatedly. But neither Morgan nor Lott would hear it. They both knew Merlin too well—leaving him behind would only invite more trouble, so they insisted he join them.
With the army ready, they marched northward, sweeping aside any resistance they encountered.
As they travelled, Merlin rode beside Lancelot, who had now been assigned as his charge. Merlin, ever the trickster, turned to Lancelot and said, "You know, I'm innocent in all this. Do you believe me?"
Lancelot, still fuming, glared at Merlin with deep suspicion, saying nothing.
Morgan had chosen Merlin to guard Lancelot, knowing full well that Lancelot wouldn't attempt to escape under Merlin's watch. After all, if Lancelot managed to flee, he'd likely believe it was some elaborate scheme by Merlin and wouldn't trust his freedom.
Thus, as the army moved forward, Lancelot found himself caught not only by physical bonds but by the mental game Merlin played on him. The campaign against the northern forces began, and Camelot's knights pushed onward, determined to bring victory to their kingdom.