"Mordred, is my father really some kind of Faerie Knight? How come I never knew?"
"Ahem, that's what my mother told me. She said Lancelot truly mutated at birth, developing a Faerie Bloodline. Otherwise, his parents wouldn't have abandoned him, and he wouldn't have been found and raised by the faeries of Avalon."
"She said his brawny, masculine knightly appearance is all thanks to the magecraft he learned in Avalon, you know?"
"Wait, so he really did conceive me with Mother?"
"Little Galahad, think about it carefully. Camelot has no shortage of ways to change one's gender, so same-sex reproduction isn't strange at all. Besides, when I put on my helmet and use the concealment methods Mother gave me, can you even tell I'm a girl? Who knows, maybe one day you'll turn into a girl too!"
In the royal palace's rear garden, once they were alone, Mordred struggled to suppress her laughter, maintaining a serious expression as she spun a yarn for Galahad.
The two had grown up together. Mordred had become a hot-tempered tomboy, while Galahad was well-read, reasonable, and gentle-natured. His only flaw was that once he got fixated on something, he had trouble letting it go.
But as Mordred finally lost control, collapsing to the ground in a fit of laughter, rolling and pounding the earth, Galahad realized what was happening.
"The Queen asked you two to fabricate stories again, didn't she? Can you really accept what Uncle Agravain said?"
"Little Galahad, you know my parentage. Seriously, all three of them are my mothers. Besides, the one who should find this most unacceptable is Mother Morgan. She says she gets goosebumps every time she hears about those pamphlets circulating among the common folk about their 'threesome.'
"As for the Queen Mother... well, in her own words, she's giving the Human Order face, hoping the Human Order will give her substance in return."
Having laughed her fill, Mordred stood up. A surge of mana cleansed the dust from her clothes. After watching Galahad, who seemed lost in thought, she conjured her armor with mana, preparing to attend to her duties.
In the end, those fools had realized that even if the rumors about the King and her Sister were true, and even if the outrageous theory that Lancelot was a female faerie was also true... the policy of enfeoffing Gaul while stripping fiefs within Camelot's heartland would not change.
Thus, during the recent meeting, the knights who knew rebellion meant suicide had feigned obedience. But after the meeting dispersed, a note was quietly slipped into Mordred's hand. It asked if she wanted to defend the honor of her Father and Queen Mother, and if she wished to become Camelot's King ahead of schedule.
All of this unfolded exactly as Guinevere had predicted. Dissatisfied with losing their fiefs yet lacking the power to resist, they would—even out of desperation—seek any opportunity with the Kingdom's sole legitimate heir.
Ten years of peace had not only corrupted them but also eroded their loyalty.
"Mordred, are you sure about this? Playing the role of the rebellious knight, the patricidal son?"
"Little Galahad, what are you thinking? It's not yet time for me to play that part. The Queen Mother's order is simply for me to lure the snakes out of their holes and clear out this rotten core of the Kingdom first.
"The Queen Mother needs them to feel confident enough to rebel, giving her the perfect opportunity to purge them completely.
"Besides, this handful of rotten roots and weeds is nowhere near enough to support my final act of mutual destruction with Father."
"This time, the Queen Mother just wants me to earn some merits and gain the approval of the senior knights and the common people."
Her helmet descended, concealing her face and making her gender indistinguishable. Her voice, distorted by the helm, finished speaking these truths to Galahad, but Mordred's gaze lingered on his face.
"Little Galahad, until I become King, every step I take will be arranged by the Queen Mother. You don't need to worry.
"But are you truly set on seeking the Holy Grail? What problem do you have that is so urgent you must ask the Grail itself?"
Handsome and slender, Galahad had inherited more of his mother's delicate beauty than his father Lancelot's features. Beneath his mother's short, ash-gray hair, his amber eyes shimmered with a golden light, reflecting both his concern for Mordred and his own unwavering resolve.
Because of the fabricated narrative surrounding his father's relationship, he and his mother were among the few who knew the truth. But unlike others, Galahad lacked unconditional trust in Guinevere. He wanted to verify the truth for himself.
Furthermore, he refused to accept the role assigned to him in Guinevere's fabricated history—that of the great knight who, after countless hardships, once again found the lost Holy Grail—when he had done nothing to earn it.
He disdained such unearned glory.
"Mordred, this is my journey. And even without the Grail, it's time for me to wander the land and cultivate my spirit."
"The Queen's textbook said it, didn't it? 'Only by seeing the world with your own eyes will it reveal its true self, and only then will you come to love it.'"
Beneath her armor, Mordred knew she couldn't persuade her childhood friend in purple armor. She knew he was the type who wouldn't give up until he hit a brick wall.
So, they both extended their hands and bumped fists, wishing each other a safe journey.
"Mordred," he began, "it's not that hard to explain. I felt the Holy Grail's call. I want to know if the world's future is truly as the Queen described.
"I want to free you from the burden of being called the Knight of Rebellion. After all, if we're counting by age, I should be your older brother!"
"Huh? Bullshit, you loser! You should be the one... the one... the one..."
"Pfft. Don't know whether to call me 'brother' or 'sister'? Mordred, you're still hung up on something so trivial? If you care that much, then you deserve to be called 'Mordred' and nothing else."
Teeth ground together, and their joined fists tightened. Even with urgent matters to attend to, the two youngsters started fighting.
Not far away, the King of Knights and Guinevere watched in secret, one leaning against a railing, the other standing primly behind her.
"Guinevere, do you think they could end up together?"
"Oh, yes, but I think that would only happen if Galahad became a girl first. Mordred has been completely corrupted by me; she truly only sees Galahad as a brother."
"So, you're saying there's a worldline where Lancelot is a female Faerie and Galahad becomes a girl? I remember you said the false histories you write are all adapted from other worldlines or futures you've seen."
"Probably... possibly... maybe? What's this, Lia? Are you jealous?"
Guinevere turned away from the garden, no longer watching the fist-bumping brawl. She knew Mordred wouldn't lose; her daughter's true strength was far greater than just being able to take a few hits from her.
As she met the King of Knights' gaze and began describing Fairy Knight Lancelot's appearance in vivid detail, Guinevere's vision suddenly went dark. She was enveloped in the King of Knights' cloak, her lips sealed by the foolish King with the perpetually bouncing ahoge.
"Guinevere, you were far too excited when you spoke of that Fairy Knight. If I ever get the chance, I'd like to meet her too. I think... if it were her, you might actually cheat on me, wouldn't you?"
"Lia, let me say it again: Guinevere will only ever love the Artoria right here before me! Even if it's another world, even if it's another you who looks exactly the same, I wouldn't love her!"
Their eyes met, and a ripple of emotion passed between them. It was Guinevere who leaned in for a kiss, ready to let her actions speak louder than words.
For now, they were at peace.