A Villainess pulled out the Sword instead of the Hero.

 

To summon him with the court painter’s frames still intact required an excuse.

 

Lancelot put a hand to his chest and asked,

“Do you mean me, Miss Morgana?” “Yes, and I have something to tell you!” 

That’s how shy people act before confession. Shaking his head and blinking, Lancelot smiled bitterly.

 

He was already popular, so why not add another confession to the mix?

 

There was no need for a court painter to be involved in the conversation.

 

Catching Morgana’s behavior, he slammed his fist into Galehaut’s shoulder, then pressed his forehead against his.

 “I’m sorry, Gale. I’m a bit popular.” “…Why apologize, it makes me feel even weirder, so just go away.” “It’s not polite to listen to confessions from more than one person. I’ll see you later in the main palace.” 

Morgana forced a smile, though it was very bland.

 

Lancelot led the way, bowing slightly in the manner of a Knight Commander.

 “I know a good place for us to talk, would you like to come with me?” “Wow, wherever Sir Lancelot is going, yes!” 

‘Was this how it was supposed to be?’

 

Morgana glanced sideways at him as he led the way, smiling broadly.

 

If he hadn’t noticed yet, he must have done a pretty good job of faking it.

 

When they reached the back of the garden, in a corner where there were no people.

 “Now, where shall we hear Miss Morgana’s confession?” 

Lancelot leaned hard against the wall and glared at her.

 “What could have driven you to separate Galehaut and me?” 

The sunny smile was incongruous with the sharp question.

 

Morgana clasped her hands together and smiled back.

 “Did you know…?” 

Lancelot mimicked her, clasping his hands together exactly like hers.

 “Wow, anywhere Sir Lancelot goes is good!” 

The broad smile returned to his usual expression before the mimicry ended. His tone was similarly flirtatious, but the playfulness was gone.

 “You’re too awkward for a confession, as you can see, it’s not like I haven’t had one or two.” 

Despite his rosy pink hue, he was not easy to please.

 

Nor did he seem to believe in Morgana’s consistent claims of affection for the monarchy.

 

It was easier this way. Pretending to be in love when it wasn’t was making her break out in hives.

 

Morgana held up a hand and shrugged nonchalantly.

 “I found someone who broke into Princess Guinevere’s room.” “Oh, about time you told me. Who is it?” “Sir Galehaut.” 

His upper body leaned forward for a moment in curiosity, but as soon as he heard the culprit’s name, he drew back again.

 

Sighing heavily, he straightened his posture.

 “I don’t like this sort of thing, Miss Morgana.” “Remember when I told you to examine the hands?” 

It had been a long time since she’d suggested that it was the thief who had smeared the herb on the watch, leaving a trail of sparks.

 

But still, the thief remained elusive.

 

Only Sobella had been falsely accused.

 

Lancelot ran a hand through his well-trimmed pink hair as he answered.

 “Knights, chamberlains, butlers, and servants. There’s not one of them I haven’t checked. Why didn’t you say Galehaut?” “I was using a magic tool.” 

Lancelot’s shoulders slumped. His searching eyes were tinged with displeasure.

 

It wasn’t just an allegation; she seemed to regard it as an accusation against him.

 

For the first time in his life, the man who had always laughed it off as lighthearted laughter was serious.

 “A court painter broke the law and changed his appearance with a magic tool? Do you think I haven’t seen him in a year or two?” “He only changed his hands. If you doubt that, check the brooch on his cravat.” 

Morgana’s heart jumped a little with nervousness at the harsher response than she’d expected.

 

‘Are you sure he’s not betraying you?’ 

 

She knew it wasn’t easy to doubt a friend, but she hadn’t expected it to come out this vehemently.

 

Morgana said she would tell him everything she could.

 

My palms were sweating as I listened to his unwillingness to go after Galehaut.

 

To clarify, she deliberately scratched his nerves.

 “You would forsake Britain for friendship?” 

Despite his disloyalty to his beloved Guinevere, he was always at the forefront of Britain’s defense.

 

His father, the Duke of Lark, refused the king’s orders to lead the army in the purge of the Pendragon family.

 

Eventually, the Duke of Lark died by the king’s sword, and Lancelot took his place.

 

Resentfully, he remained in Britain.

 “Hah…” 

Lancelot sighed, and then, clatter, he stepped forward. He walked toward her.

 

His back to the sun, shaded, his eyelids drooped as he spoke forcefully.

 “You shouldn’t say such things, Miss Morgana, if you know what it means to protect Britain.” 

She felt a pang of intimidation, as if he had just become First Knight Commander.

 

Morgana held up both hands, slowly calming him.

 

A wide smile was a bonus. They say one could never spit on a smiling face.

 “I know, so I’m telling Sir Lancelot directly, and you even asked me why I dug the trap alone.” 

Morgana’s eyes narrowed, trying to look as non-malicious as possible, but she continued calmly.

 “If you don’t believe me, wait until tonight.” “Tonight?” “Yes. If it turns out that it was Mr. Galehaut instead, what will you do for me?” “…What do you want?” “My coworker, Sobella, has been falsely accused of being a thief and is locked up. She’s innocent, so I want her released.” “Ah, so.” 

Lancelot laughed dryly as if thinking she had blackmailed him for this demand.

 

His mouth opened to speak in mockery. Morgana cut him off.

 “And the jousting tournament, please do not attend.” 

Lancelot’s infatuation with Guinevere was fleeting.

 

It was at the jousting tournament that he rescued her from being kidnapped, and it was love at first sight.

 

Lancelot tilted his head, still puzzled.

 “What good does it do Miss Morgana, does her lover try to win the jousting tournament?” “No, sir. The palace is under guard at the moment, with so many men sent out on regular tours.” 

His posture straightened as he listened dryly. That meant he had thought about it, as well.

 

Morgana didn’t miss a beat.

 “By the time the jousting tournament comes around, most of the best knights are gone.” “Certainly, the atmosphere around the Princess has gotten unpleasant lately. So you want me to be on guard duty?” “Yes. I’d like you to escort the Princess and her family around the palace.” 

During the kidnapping, Mellowart smashes parts of the King’s Palace, where King Vortigen resides, and the Prince’s Palace.

 

The assassins had planned to take advantage of a lapse in security.

 

The confusion soon became an opening.

 

Lancelot silently pondered the conversation and languidly scratched his chin.

 “What’s the point of all this, is it because you don’t like the royal knights?” “No. It is my most fervent desire to ensure the safety and happiness of Princess Guinevere…” “Oh, well. Well, let’s say so.” 

I was about to pour out my prepared speech. Before I could get more than halfway through, he cut me off.

 

He didn’t seem to believe me at all, but decided it was no harm, so why bother asking?

 

He wasn’t going to tell Morgana if he didn’t want to.

 

Better to save the repertoire.

 

Lancelot lifted his head, watching the movement of servants and knights in the distance.

 “Then we’ll talk again tomorrow, hopefully with proof that Gale was the culprit today.” 

Judging by the commotion in the direction of the main palace, Guinevere would be here soon.

 

Morgana grabbed Lancelot’s hand as he turned to leave with a quick wave.

 “What, is there anything left to say?” 

Morgana smiled awkwardly at his confused question.

 “Do you happen to know the location of the paintings in the other palaces?” 

There was an awkward silence between them at the out-of-place question.

 “Well, I have an aesthetic curiosity.” 

Lancelot’s vague gaze swept over her face at the awkward excuse.

 “You found that vase in the lower chamber the other day, and you’re buying it so you can sell it for a lot of money, aren’t you?” 

To him, Morgana looked like a money-crazy person.

 

Morgana wanted to retort, but there was nothing to say because he wasn’t wrong.