Morgan's thoughts lingered as she nervously recalled that this land, steeped in the legends of Ulster, indeed harboured those whose power could challenge even the boldest claims of invincibility. Overblown and slightly embarrassed, she grimaced inwardly.
Meanwhile, Galahad and Altria returned from their mission, their armour streaked with the blood of fallen enemies, though neither bore any wounds. With a sense of accomplishment, they stood tall, ready for their next reward.
"Galahad, mission accomplished," Galahad announced stoically.
"Altria, mission completed!" Altria said loudly, but her thoughts wandered, eagerly anticipating the delicious rewards awaiting her—a familiar, eager glint in her eyes. Her love for good food could not be hidden.
At this moment, Guinevere approached, holding a handkerchief. Her concern for Altria was evident as she offered to tend to any wounds.
"Are you hurt? Let me bandage you," Guinevere said kindly.
"No, I'm fine," Altria quickly responded, stepping back as Guinevere reached toward her chest, a move that made Altria's discomfort evident.
Guinevere pressed on, asking, "What's wrong? It's just concern between comrades, right?"
"Comrades?" Altria glanced at her, unsure.
Morgan, observing the scene, smiled and clarified, "Guinevere has joined the Knights of the Round Table as a female knight, so yes, you are comrades now."
This revelation left Altria stunned. Meanwhile, Galahad took note and silently resolved to make sure his father, Lancelot, stayed well away from Guinevere. Reinforcing the metaphorical "cage" around his father seemed more urgent than ever.
Unbeknownst to them, Lancelot, sitting quietly in his captivity, shuddered, feeling the weight of the world pressing against him even more.
With victory in hand, the celebrations commenced. But instead of the local cuisine, which the group had grown unaccustomed to, Lot's chef prepared a feast from Orkney, much to the delight of everyone present. The taste of cumin, chilli, and other spices, rare in Britain at the time, elevated the meal to something extraordinary.
King Leodegrance and Guinevere were awestruck by the food, unable to contain their amazement.
"I see why Altria prefers to stay with them now," Leodegrance muttered, eyeing Altria, who was devouring the food with intense focus. It was as if nothing could tear her away from her meal.
Watching his daughter's interactions with Altria, Leodegrance expressed a faint concern. "Perhaps we should reconsider your… preferences," he muttered to Guinevere, gesturing subtly toward Altria.
Despite her father's hesitation, Guinevere smiled reassuringly, though the reality of Altria's ravenous appetite was hard to ignore. If nothing else, it seemed the only real challenge to their union might be keeping up with Altria's insatiable hunger!
Later, as the festivities wound down, Morgan lounged next to Lott, satisfied with both the food and the progress in Scotland. She idly kicked off her shoes and began teasingly brushing her toes against Lott's leg under the table.
"Well, now that we've dealt with King Ryan, we should focus on securing our influence here," Morgan mused, though her relaxed demeanour suggested she had little intention of doing the heavy lifting herself.
"You're leaving that to me, aren't you?" Lott said with mock exasperation, feeling her playful touch against his leg. Despite his protests, he couldn't deny Morgan's charm.
Morgan smiled slyly. "Of course. You're the genius strategist. Why waste my energy when I have you?" she teased, continuing to flirt without anyone noticing.
With a sigh, Lott conceded. "Fine, I'll figure it out. But next time, don't use this method to distract me."
Morgan's laughter echoed softly as she leaned back, content to let Lott handle the details, her eyes full of affection and mischief.