A Bold Rescue
Tristan, gripping his weapon, stepped out of the carriage and was immediately struck by the sight of an army in motion. He realized he was in the midst of it. Not far away, Lott was mounted on a war horse, his presence commanding and authoritative.
As Tristan emerged, Lott rode over to him, his face breaking into a smile. "Tristan, you're awake. We'll be in Cornwall soon."
Tristan blinked in confusion. "Why do you call me like that? I'm not your courtier. And why are we heading to Cornwall? I thought you were taking me to Isolde's wedding."
Lott's expression turned slightly puzzled. "Isn't this what you asked for?"
"What do you mean?" Tristan's confusion deepened.
Lott continued, "You agreed to let me help you find your lover, Princess Isolde. In return, you promised to serve as a courtier for me and Morgan."
Tristan's eyes widened in disbelief. "Did I say that? I remember feeling moved by Morgan's words, but I would never have agreed to that!"
Lott, seemingly unfazed, elaborated, "After you drank, you knelt before me and declared that you still loved Isolde deeply. You said if you couldn't marry her, you'd marry someone with the same name. I advised you to pursue Princess Isolde instead, and you made your request to me."
Tristan frowned, trying to recall the events. "I might have said so…"
"So, what's your decision?" Lott pressed.
"I'm not taking the army to Cornwall for a wedding. I'm planning to confront King Marko," Lott announced firmly.
Tristan was shocked. "Did I make such a decision while drunk? I regret it, but part of me is intrigued by it. I want to see how this plays out."
Despite his inner conflict, Tristan tried to dissuade Lott. "Please reconsider. Let's not bring the army into my uncle's territory."
"What do you mean?" Lott's gaze turned steely.
"If this is all a result of my drunken state, it seems countless matters have gone awry," Tristan stammered.
"You're suggesting I'm being deceived?" Lott's tone grew sharp.
"I wouldn't dare," Tristan said quietly.
"Then let's proceed with the plan," Lott said with a smile. "My army is already here, so it can't be for nothing. You have two choices: follow through with our agreement and help me capture the bride, or face the consequences of your deceit. War will be inevitable."
Tristan was taken aback. "So, no matter what, my uncle will be attacked?"
Lott nodded. "Exactly."
"Do I even have a choice?" Tristan asked with a wry smile.
Lott's words seemed to hint that resistance was futile. "You do have options. You could try to confront me now, but I doubt you'd succeed."
Tristan, despite his martial prowess, found himself unable to act against Lott. His realization was troubling: he might want Lott's help to capture Isolde.
Seeing Tristan's conflicted expression, Lott smiled to himself. Sometimes, providing the right excuse can help someone achieve what they truly desire.
Lott then moved to the back of the army to discuss matters with Morgan. She had sent Galahad to assist Lott, ensuring the plan would be executed smoothly.
At the rear of the army, Lott said to Galahad, "Galahad, the upcoming battle in Cornwall is in your hands."
Galahad, taking his duty seriously, responded, "Understood. I didn't realize Tristan had such a tragic past, but if his fate can be changed, I'll do my best."
With the army moving swiftly, Lott and his forces approached King Marko's domain. They arrived just in time, as the wedding preparations were underway but not yet complete.
"What should we do next?" Tristan asked Lott.
Lott answered directly, "You go straight to the door."
Tristan was taken aback. "Isn't that too direct? Shouldn't we be more discreet?"
Lott rolled his eyes. "Do you not know how to handle this? Just go in and bring the bride out. I'll handle the rest."
Tristan hesitated. "I'm not sure how to face Princess Isolde. Seeing the wedding preparations makes my heart ache. But if you want me to steal her away, I'm still uncertain."
Lott's plan was set in motion, and Tristan's internal struggle only heightened as he prepared to act on his wavering decisions.