"The first person to claim the Holy Grail will be me."
Leon raised his wine glass and swirled it slightly. Through the clear crystal and the shimmering wine, he looked at the stunned and speechless Guinevere before him.
I believe I'll have results in three or four months. After all, my girls seem to be working hard.
It was all because he had once said: "I want to drink from the Holy Grail."
Alpha had immediately dispatched dozens of girls to search the entire world for the Grail.
Although the King of Knights had been searching for it for many years, Leon's side had an overwhelming advantage—both in manpower and intelligence networks.
During the last report, Beta had informed him that clues about the Holy Grail had been found, and it likely wouldn't take long to pinpoint its location.
But apparently, the King of Knights and I aren't the only ones targeting the Holy Grail. There are also five or six other forces searching for that powerful wish-granting device. Haha~ Perhaps by then, a "Holy Grail War" will begin.
Leon emptied his glass of wine in a single gulp.
The thought of countless powerful individuals gathering to wage the ultimate battle for their desires around the Holy Grail… it made his blood boil with excitement.
How could such a grand event not include him?
Guinevere looked at the prince before her with trembling eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself.
"It seems there's no need for us to continue talking. You probably won't agree to my request. In that case, I'll take my leave."
Just as she turned to go…
"Hm? Who said I have no intention of accepting your request?" Leon said.
"Eh?"
Guinevere froze, staring at him in confusion.
This was the same man who had declared his plan to conquer her kingdom—an outright declaration of war—and yet he still intended to accept her request?
Leon shrugged. Interactions between nations were always complicated. Even if they secretly wished to kill each other, on the surface they still needed to smile and shake hands.
Not to mention, this could be beneficial to him.
"This will be my territory in the future, and I will take care of my future subjects. But… you'll have to agree to a few of my conditions first."
"…What are your conditions?"
Guinevere knew perfectly well this was a poisoned gift, but she had no choice but to accept—Britain truly was in dire straits right now.
Leon casually raised three fingers.
"First, the price of the provisions will be slightly higher, but I'll let you pay in installments."
"Second, you must publicly explain to the people about your 'beneficial' deal with Palettia."
"As for the third…"
The first two conditions were simpler than Guinevere had expected, and she couldn't help but feel a little surprised. But seeing Leon fall silent suddenly gave her a bad feeling.
"What's the third condition?"
"Hehe, it's very simple. Would you be willing to give me another kiss? If so, I'll have someone deliver the supplies to you immediately."
Guinevere's eyes widened.
Leon's lips curled into a mischievous smile.
In truth, the first two conditions were more than enough.
Not only would they earn him considerable prestige, but they would also pave the way for Britain's eventual annexation. Even after the kingdom's fall, the British people would feel far less hostility toward him.
That left the third condition as nothing more than a personal indulgence.
After watching Guinevere's face twist between confusion, reluctance, and embarrassment—thoroughly amusing him—he had planned to reveal it was just a joke.
"Hmph!"
"Hm?!"
This time, Leon's eyes went wide.
He stared in astonishment at Guinevere, now standing so close, feeling the soft touch of her lips against his own.
Leon was stunned.
How could this woman not even hesitate?!
Why did it feel like he was the one being taken advantage of?
The kiss lasted a full minute before they finally pulled apart.
Guinevere's face was as red as an apple. She licked her lips, shot Leon a furious glare, and then wiped her mouth vigorously with the sleeve of her dress.
Leon rolled his eyes.
Who licks their lips after a kiss and then wipes it away?
"It's done."
"…Queen, you're far too thirsty."
"I am not!"
Guinevere blushed even harder and ran off.
She would never admit that when Leon mentioned the third condition, she had kissed him instinctively—without even thinking.
Guinevere was affectionate by nature, but also a grown woman whose desires had gone unfulfilled for years. Leon could be considered the closest man she had ever had contact with.
She had some control over her body, but… this was understandable.
"Yes, yes… the heart of a woman truly is the most difficult puzzle to solve. Tonight's banquet was both incredibly dull… and incredibly entertaining."
Leon watched Guinevere's retreating figure.
He chuckled softly, reclining on the pavilion bench, sipping wine under the moonlight as he thought about the three fascinating women he had met that night—
Yumina, Renner, Guinevere.
Tonight's harvest had been bountiful indeed.
And to be honest… each one of them was so unique!
---
"What have I done?!"
After finally escaping the rose garden, Guinevere covered her flushed face and crouched down, berating herself in her heart for being an indecent woman.
She was still hesitating… still confused!
She shouldn't have been so impulsive.
And then she remembered—there was nearly a ten-year age difference between her and Leon.
She had kissed a boy ten years younger than her… twice! The thought made her freeze all over again.
"Calm down, calm down! There can't be a next time. Even if my king is a woman, I am still her wife. I must remain faithful…"
The next time she met such a shameless man, she swore in her heart she would slap him across the face.
Just then—
"Queen Guinevere! So you were here!"
"Hm? That's Sir Lancelot's voice?"
She heard someone calling her name.
Looking up, she saw a man in purple armor running toward her—it was one of the Knights of the Round Table, Lancelot, who had accompanied her on this diplomatic mission.
The "Knight of the Lake," praised as the strongest even among the Round Table, and utterly loyal to King Arthur.
"Lancelot, you've arrived just in time. Everything has been settled—we will return to Camelot at once."
"Eh? Settled so quickly? You truly are worthy of being a queen."
"Well, please arrange the transport. I'm tired and will go rest first."
"Wait, please!"
Lancelot's voice suddenly rose several degrees.
Guinevere arched an eyebrow, looking at him as he suddenly grew timid and nervous.
"What is it, Sir Lancelot?"
"…Queen Guinevere, there's something I must tell you."
After a moment of silence, Lancelot seemed to gather his resolve. The Knight of the Lake looked at her with burning eyes, knelt before her, and declared:
"Please go out with me, my queen!"
"??????"
A cascade of question marks practically appeared above Guinevere's head.
Lancelot continued earnestly:
"I have thought carefully about this. As a woman, you have given too much for the king—but our beloved king cannot satisfy you. In that case, I, Lancelot, am willing to take my king's place by your side!"
Smack!
Before the Knight of the Lake could even finish speaking, a loud slap rang out.
"Sir Lancelot, I am deeply disappointed in you."
And with that, Guinevere turned and fled.
Deep down, she was a little proud of herself—see? She was still reserved and had upheld the vow she'd just made!
"Queen Guinevere!!"
Lancelot remained kneeling on one knee, clutching the bright red handprint on his face, crying out in despair.
(End of Chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."