Gaul, Paris, the Royal Palace...
Within a small room shielded by anti-scrying magecraft, the King of Knights, Morgan, Gawain, Lancelot, Tristan, Bedivere, and Kay were gathered.
Everyone Guinevere trusted and whose help she sought was present.
While Guinevere had lost all sense of time during her contact with the Holy Grail, only a single moment had passed in reality.
To the King of Knights and the others, it appeared as if the Holy Grail had vanished the instant Guinevere touched it, as if rejecting her.
But as their gazes fell upon Guinevere, they saw mana overflowing from her body, so immense she couldn't suppress it. It was as if she had gained countless years of training in an instant.
The genuine Holy Grail did indeed possess the power to grant wishes. Unfortunately, it vanished after a single use, leaving Guinevere unable to test the limits of its power.
"Lia, everyone, this is everything I know."
In the small room, Guinevere recounted the future where the King of Knights would die on Camlann Hill. She spoke of how 'Guinevere' would be executed by burning at the stake by the King of Knights after her affair with Lancelot was exposed.
"Wait, Queen Guinevere, you'll have an affair with Lancelot? But you're not even attracted to men, are you? Lancelot, does your future self become a woman?" Kay interjected. "No, that can't be right. In my eyes, the King would sooner burn herself than harm the Queen!"
As Guinevere described the original timeline, she was met with a barrage of skepticism. If not for the fact that she had just touched the Holy Grail and the authority she had built over the years, the others would never have entertained such a wild tale.
"Kay, calm down," Guinevere said, rapping her knuckles on the table. "I've already told you—this is the world's original script, the reality we must deceive."
The table, far less sturdy than the great Round Table, shattered under her light tap.
Still, it was enough to silence Kay.
"Kay, I know this sounds absurd," Guinevere said. "Not everyone can accept that the future is already set. But please, trust me. We can stage a false version of that future."
She paused, her voice low and resolute. "The final act cannot be altered—it can only be deceived."
After receiving the answer from the Holy Grail, Guinevere had spent days running simulations before finally deciding to ask for everyone's help. Her deductions had shown that she couldn't deceive the world alone and stage the predetermined final act. One misstep, and she might truly bring about the collapse of the Round Table, becoming the treacherous queen Merlin had prophesied.
But if she invited trusted allies to join her performance, the chances of successfully deceiving the world would increase with each person she brought in.
"Guinevere, you'd better convince my foolish sister first," Morgan snapped, her irritation plain on her face. "Her entire existence is dedicated to being King."
For some reason, Morgan felt an overwhelming urge to slap Guinevere and demand why she hadn't chosen to turn the world into a Lostbelt. Guinevere's immediate dismissal of the idea made it seem as if she believed there wasn't even a one percent chance of a Lostbelt overwriting Proper Human History.
Every time Morgan thought of this, a hollow ache filled her chest, making her want to scream: Why is that path impossible?!
"Let's go," Morgan declared, turning to leave. "Let them talk it out themselves!"
Led by Morgan, the knights filed out of the room. Given the gravity of the situation, even Kay remained silent after they left, not daring to speak of what he had just seen and heard.
Except for one knight, who murmured, "According to the Queen, if the King accepts her proposal, it means she'll have to renounce her duty as King even if she survives the final act. Do you think the King would be willing to give that up?"
Soon after they departed, inside the small room still protected by anti-scrying magecraft, Guinevere and the King of Knights stared at each other in silence. A long moment passed before either spoke.
"Guinevere," the King of Knights finally asked, her voice low, "is my end truly to die at Camlann Hill? And at Mordred's hands...?"
"That is how the world's history records it."
Silence. The King of Knights said nothing more, but her gaze demanded that Guinevere continue. She listened as Guinevere described the different path she and Camelot would have taken without her intervention.
First, Morgan would have stolen both her sword and its scabbard, the latter being lost forever. Soon after, she would have been grievously wounded in a duel.
Second, Mordred would indeed have been the result of Morgan drugging her. She would have slept with Morgan, and from that incestuous union, Morgan would have given birth to Mordred.
"Well," Guinevere added quickly, "it might not have happened exactly like that. There's another version where Morgan only stole your essence—your seed and blood—without the actual act."
"Guinevere, what difference does that make?" the King of Knights replied, a bitter smile touching her lips. "But now I understand why you're so fixated on Lady Morgan."
Some things could be shared with everyone, but others had to remain locked away in her heart, spoken only to Artoria.
Guinevere watched Artoria's helpless, bitter smile, then masked her own complex emotions with a serious expression.
"Lia, do you truly believe what I've told you? Cooperating with me to deceive the world means..."
"Guinevere, would you lie to me about something like this?"
Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected the King of Knights to say that at such a moment. Her gaze flickered to the swaying candlelight, the tightly shut door and windows, and the solid wooden table she had just shattered...
Then she embraced the King of Knights, pouring all her anxiety, hope, confusion, and desperation into a single kiss.
The torrent of emotion flowed between them until both were nearly breathless.
"Lia," Guinevere whispered, "I would never lie to you about anything important."
Taller than Artoria, she held the small, golden-haired figure in her arms as she caught her breath.
"Lia, even if it's for Camelot's sake, you must let everything go in the future."
She knew what Camelot meant to the King of Knights, so she suppressed her own desires and chose the argument with the highest chance of success.
Become King for Camelot. Renounce the throne for Camelot. Guinevere was confident this line of reasoning had an eighty percent chance of persuading her.
"Guinevere," Artoria said, her voice steady, "you said the only unchangeable part of the final act is the King of Knights dying at Camlann Hill."
"That means you could have left long ago, couldn't you?"
Those involved are often blind to the truth. Just as Guinevere believed the King of Knights still saw only Camelot...
...the King of Knights also believed Guinevere stayed by her side not just out of love. She trusted that Guinevere's concern for the people was genuine, that her care for Camelot was real...
The King of Knights couldn't quite tell whether Guinevere loved her more, or the people and Camelot more.
Though regardless of Guinevere's answer, the King of Knights' own resolve would not change. She was willing to accept not just a feigned death, but even a real one.
So, what would Guinevere's answer be?
"The reason I didn't leave alone?
"Lia, I forget if I've told you this before, so I'll say it again: I care about the people and Camelot primarily because you, Artoria, care about them!
"I stay by your side, of course, because...
"Guinevere loves the Artoria right before her eyes more than anything."
Their eyes met as Guinevere spoke her truest thoughts. She saw the King of Knights' face tighten, struggling to conceal her real emotions.
But her body had already betrayed her mind. She bit Guinevere's earlobe and whispered:
"Artoria... loves Guinevere too. I never coveted the throne; I have always been willing to entrust a strong kingdom to a qualified successor.
"Guinevere, I long for the retired life you spoke of—for you and me.
"I, Artoria Pendragon, am willing to deceive the world with you."