General Genesis stepped into the main military office and paused, eyes scanning the room carefully. During the day, this space buzzed with activity—soldiers exchanging reports, messengers running errands, voices rising and falling with urgency. But now, in the quiet of evening, the silence felt good. It was nice to get a break from all of the noise.

  Desks were cluttered with scattered papers, half-written notes, forgotten quills left carelessly aside. Maps were pinned haphazardly across the large central table, their corners curling slightly with age, their markings blurred by repeated handling. Tiny figures representing troops and potential threats stood silently on the maps, frozen in strategic contemplation.

  He moved further inside, his boots echoing softly against the polished marble floor, gleaming stone extracted from the renowned Silverdeep mines. Its smooth surface mirrored the gentle flicker of candles placed strategically around the room, casting wavering shadows that danced across walls and polished armor displays. The banners of Camelot hung proudly on the walls, their vibrant colors subdued in the dim light. It was the one thing Belladonna managed to do without any backlash from the Military - giving them a nice office they could be proud of.

  Genesis exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of command press heavily on his shoulders. This quiet, reflective moment gave him a chance to center himself before he had to meet with his second and third in command. He knew they would have been in his office for a while. They didn’t have to make an appearance at the Great Hall because they were apart of the lower class. Lucky them. There were times he wish he was apart of the lower class. Less responsibilities to deal with.

  He shook his head and stepped toward his personal office. The door was open and candles flickered, casting shadows on the wall. Henry’s voice drifted out, holding a note of playfulness, “Look, Reno, all I’m saying is—maybe if you weren't married to your duty, you'd have someone waiting for you at home, with a hot meal, a warm bed, and an enjoyable time.”

  Genesis stopped in the doorway, lending against the door with his shoulder and crossed his arms. He watched as Reno shook his head and comment in a mocking tone, “And perhaps if you spent as much effort guarding the kingdom as you do wooing young ladies of the court, Henry, we'd have fewer patrol reports to worry about.”

  “Hey, hey, those beautiful ladies need some protection as well,” Henry argued, “Maybe I should see if that Lady Valentina needs some as well.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Reno’s tone went serious. Genesis watched Henry as confusion danced across the Third’s face. “You might end up answering Genesis if you did something to harm her.”

  “What do you mean? I know they are cousins, but they can’t be that close,” Henry said, looking at Reno and shifted in his seat.

  “She is my sister,” Genesis answered. Amused shot through him as Reno and Henry turned to him with surprised looks on their faces.

  “What?” Henry half yelled, “You have another sister!?”

  “Yes, I have two more sisters,” Genesis commented as he pushed off the door frame and walked over to his desk. He settled into his chair. “So, what were you two discussing? From what it sound like, you were trying to sort out your domestic arrangements.” Genesis smirked at them.

  Reno chuckled, lightly, “We were just discussing Henry’s latest romantic conquest—and my supposed lack thereof. Apologies, General.”

  Henry gave him an embarrassed grin. “Apologies, Sir.”

  Genesis chuckled, “let's set hearts and flowers aside for now. Unfortunately, we've got more pressing matters—though I'm glad at least one of us still has time for romance.” He gave Henry a pointed look.

  His third in Commander flushed before he commented, “You have the ladies falling at your feet, if you didn’t have a reputation for having a temper.”

  Genesis shot him an annoyed glared, “Don’t you worry. My grandmother is working to fix that. I’m sure within the three to four months, I will have a bride chosen for me if I don’t chose one for myself.” Both men gave him sympathetic looks. Genesis cleared his throat and went on, “Anyway, let’s not waste anymore time. Today’s events were unusual, to say the least. Rōga Fenrir’s appearance at the ceremony was unexpected and troubling. Were there any reports of his movements over the past few days?”

  “No, sir,” Henry replied, “The members of our divisions in the outposts and the nearby villages didn’t hear a peek about his movements, but we have been getting reports about the Non-humans. Several leaders have started to head this way. I would assume they want to make an attempt to pull the Holy Sword out like Lord Rōga did.”

  Genesis nodded. “Let’s assume that.” He paused. “It would mean Lord Rōga traveled through the Dead End Forest.” He hummed, thinking, “We don’t have any patrols going through there. The Knights usually handle that. However, I know Belladonna was pissed that Lord Rōga knew the protection words to say. She hasn’t confronted me about it, yet. I am sure she will eventually.”

  Reno winced, “She wouldn’t like the fact the Non-humans are traveling this way either.” Silence fill the room as they allowed that thought to settle. “Something feels off about this entire situation.”

  “What do you mean?’ Henry asked, turning to him.

  “Except for 20 yeas ago, we usually have had a Chosen King already,” Reno explained, “It is the only time in the entire history of Camelot, a Choosing Ceremony lasted a week, at most. 20 years ago, it lasted 6 months.”

  Genesis looked at Reno. His second in command had a point. He lend forward, placing his arms on his desk, before he said, “You think there's a connection? That whatever delayed the Choosing Ceremony twenty years ago might be influencing things again?"

  “I think what your grandmother said might be right,” Reno corrected the General, “I remember some of the conversations you and I have had since your sister arrived in Camelot. The Next Chosen Ruler will be a woman and possible a White Hall.”

  “Are you suggesting we get Tina to try to pull the Holy Sword out?” Genesis asked, knowing the line of thought was going. “There will be a good chance it will be by force. She has no desire in staying in Camelot for the time being. She plans to leave as soon as the Next Ruler is chosen.”

  Henry sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, “A Chosen Queen? That would be interesting. However, do we even know why it took so long the last time?"

  Genesis shook his head, “We all were too young to understand what the adults were doing, but when I became a General, I did look into things. Officially, no. There was speculation—rumors about interference by non-humans or powerful magic. The official story was vague. Merlin could never fully explained. It was like he was spelled by some powerful magic to forget. He made mention of forgetting something important, surrounding that Choosing Ceremony. It didn’t help matter when Queen Susan shut down inquiries.”

  “Queen Susan did that?” Reno’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “Apparently, she made the comment to the previous Generals, what is done is done and there is no need to look further into the matter,” Genesis said, “The Generals had their hands tied as bad as we do since my mother stepped back from her position so did Grandma Sakura and Aunt Nami.”

  Reno shifted uneasily, "Which could mean whatever caused that delay was never fully resolved."

  Genesis sighed, understanding the implications, "And if that's true, we might be dealing with something more serious than Rōga Fenrir simply testing Camelot’s boundaries."

  “Like what?” Henry asked.

  “Have either of you heard of a woman named Rowena?” Genesis asked. Reno and Henry shook their heads no. “According to the White Hall History, she was an apprentice to Merlin, back during King Uther Pendragon, the First King of Camelot. After his death, Merlin cast the Choosing spell on the Holy Sword and allowed the sons of King Uther to make an attempt to prove their worthiness. At this time, Arthur Pendragon refuse to make an attempt. Rowena stepped forward. Many of the witnesses didn’t approve of her stepping out of line.” Henry’s jaw dropped.

  Genesis went on, “She made an attempt to pull the Holy Sword out of the stone. The Sword rejected her, three times. The last time, she had tried to use magic to counteract the spell, but Merlin chose a powerful choosing spell and it reacted to her attempts. She was kicked back into the crowd, denied a fourth time. When she stood up, she announced Merlin would regret not allowing her to have the Crown of Camelot and swore she would be Queen one day.” The young White Hall Lord paused, allowing the information to sink in. “She later joined Prince Robert and went to war against Arthur and Camelot. She was the one who also cursed the Holy Sword.”

  “Whoa,” Henry whispered, “She sounds worst then Belladonna.”

  “You think this Rowena is going try to again,” Reno stated.

  “Rowena has to be over 1500 years old.” Henry argued, “There’s no way she could be still alive.”

  “She earned the title The Death Mage for a reason, Henry,” Genesis explained, “She is a necromancer. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she had managed to find a way to cheat Death and stayed alive.”

  The room fell silent. Reno stared at Genesis in disbelief, his brow furrowed deeply. "So, you're saying this Rowena could still be involved? That whatever happened back then might still haunt Camelot today?"

  Genesis nodded solemnly. "It's possible. Rowena’s curse was powerful enough to persist beyond her defeat, affecting every Choosing Ceremony since."

  Henry shifted uneasily. "If she was Merlin’s apprentice, she must have been incredibly powerful. Merlin doesn't take just anyone as a student."

  "Exactly. If I remember correctly, Morgana was an apprentice to Merlin during this time as well, " Genesis confirmed. "If Rowena is still alive—somehow—her magic and her grudge would be just as potent."

  Reno’s expression darkened. "It would explain why the Holy Sword continues to reject candidates, or at least complicates the process."

  Henry shook his head slowly. "But why haven't we heard of her until now? Surely Merlin or Morgana would have warned us."

  Genesis sighed deeply. "Perhaps they believed she was no longer a threat, or they hoped the problem would simply fade with time or she was dead. But with recent events—the delayed Choosing, the sudden boldness of non-human factions—I fear Camelot may again face the consequences of past mistakes." He paused, letting the gravity of the idea sink in. "Reno, Henry, maintain heightened security and patrols, especially to the outposts in the nearby villages. They might hold the key to avoid being caught unaware.”

  Both men nodded firmly. Reno looked like he was about to stand up, but remembered something and asked, “What about the Bark Ninja spotted within Camelot?”

  Genesis blinked, “The Bark Ninja are allies of the White Hall House.” He sighed. “I know they are here for Tina. They were sent after her. If they capture her again, they will just take her back to the White Hall Estate.”

  “I take you are not worry about them,” Reno said. Genesis shook his head no.

  “What about the other group of Ninjas?” Henry asked, looking between Reno and Genesis with a worried expression.

  Genesis straightened, determination hardening his features, “What other group of Ninjas?”

  “They have a snowflake headband,” Henry explained.

  Genesis and Reno exchanged a look. Reno shook his head no. Genesis shrugged before he went on, “I don’t know them. I know there are other ninja villages, but I don’t know where they are located or their alliances are at.” He paused. He wondered who was leading the Bark Team. Maybe he could figure out a way to get a meeting with them to discuss this development. “Anyway, we got other stuff to do. Henry, double the overnight patrols for the next week. If there is any unusual occurrences, keep an eye on them and report them to me. You should have time to prepare an intelligence report on any abnormal sightings.” Genesis gave him a pointed look. “You may leave.”

  Henry looked sheepish, but he nodded, “Yes, sir. I will have an intelligence report to you first thing in the morning.” He stood up, saluted, and walked out of the room.

  Genesis turned his attention to Reno, “Increase the presence our men are patrolling the Royal Quarters, the Courtyard, and the White Hall Wing. Hopefully, that would prevent anything bad from happening.”

  “Ahh, someone is being the protective older brother,” Reno cooed. Genesis glared at him. “I’m going, I’m going. Don’t worry. I will get more men in the White Hall Wing and the Royal Quarters. Don’t be surprised if some of the Knights start questioning things.”

  “I would be surprised if they don’t,” Genesis commented as Reno walked out. He turned his attention to the reports on his desk. It was going to be a long night. Hopefully, he would get to bed in the next couple hours.

  “General!” a guard burst into the office. Genesis’ head snap up and his eyes settled on the guard. “Lord Peter of the Paladin Order has requested a meeting with Lady Armstrong and is on his way to her suite in the White Hall Wing.”

  Genesis’ eyes widened and pushed out of the chair, running toward the White Hall Wing.

  The door to the Armstrong Suit swung open with a gentle push, and Sir Lancelot stepped aside with a flourish, one hand gesturing them in like a knight at a royal ball.

  "Ladies first," he said with a crooked smile. His frosted green eyes glittered mischievously. “It’s only right to let the most radiant lights of Camelot enter ahead of me.”

  Tina raised a brow, but the corner of her mouth betrayed a smirk. It felt nice to participate in some harmless flirting. It was almost a balm to her injured heart. “Careful, Sir Lancelot. You keep saying things like that and people might think you’re courting both of us.”

  Rose giggled, brushing a curl behind her ear. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind. It’d make for good gossip—Knight of Camelot falls for the White Hall Ladies.”

  Lancelot laughed lightly, removing his gloves as he followed them in. “Scandalous, isn’t it? But I’m told I look rather dashing when I’m scandalous.”

  Tina gave him a playful glare. “You’re lucky you’re on duty, Sir Lancelot. Otherwise, I’d make you carry my things upstairs.”

  He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “Your burdens are mine to carry, my lady—day or night.”

  Tina smiled in amusement. She still couldn’t believe Rose managed to talk Lancelot, the bravest Knight of Camelot, into escorting them back to the White Hall Wing. So far, the Knight was living up to his namesake. He was handsome man with brown hair appeared to be wind swept. It brushed the tips of his shoulders. He shamelessly flirted with both of them on the walk up until they were stopped by a familiar Paladin. Tina knew she had interacted with him before, but she couldn’t remember his name. However, he passed along a passage to her. High Lord Paladin Peter wished to speak with her about the days’ events.

  She stopped as she noticed something new on the low table near the hearth—a lavish bouquet of fresh flowers, delicately arranged in a crystal vase. She blinked in surprise.

  "Did you… order flowers?" Rose asked, peeking at the flowers before she settled on a love seat.

  Tina shook her head slowly, already stepping toward the bouquet. They weren’t just any flowers—white camellias, pale lilacs, and blue starflowers, woven together with thoughtful precision. There was no note. She gently touched one of the petals, heart fluttering despite herself. The arrangement was elegant and understated. It was beautiful.

  "Strange," she murmured. "No signature. No family seal."

  "Secret admirer?" Rose teased, clearly delighted. Tina glanced at her cousin and saw Rose’s eyes danced as she sat forward.

  Tina frowned, though not in displeasure—more in caution. She tried to suppress the warmth that bloomed in her chest. She turned her attention to the flowers, "I don’t have time for admirers right now."

  "But you smiled," Rose pointed out with a grin.

  Tina quickly smoothed her expression. "I did not."

  "Did too."

  She ignored her cousin’s victorious hum and gently pulled the bouquet closer to read the parchment tucked discreetly beneath the vase. The note was simple, handwritten in a steady, almost familiar script:

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Stay.”

  Tina's breath caught.

  No name. Just that single word.

  Her fingers lingered at the edge of the paper, mind racing. Who would dare—no, who would want—her to stay? Someone from Court? One of the knights?

  She thought of Sir Tristan for the briefest moment—his rare glances, quiet concern, the way he carried himself when he thought no one was watching.

  No… he wouldn’t.

  Would he? As if, she told herself.

  She tucked the note back beneath the vase, the softness in her eyes quickly retreating behind the mask of composure. "Whoever it was... they don’t know me very well if they think flowers will keep me in Camelot."

  But she didn’t move her eyes away from the bouquet as she settled in an armchair, facing the Armstrong Suit door. Sir Lancelot’s gaze swept over the flowers, then to Tina’s expression—neutral but not unreadable.

  “Ah,” he said with a knowing smile, “the language of flowers. Always a bold move when left unsigned.”

  Tina glanced up at him. “I suppose some prefer mystery to courage.”

  Lancelot chuckled softly, folding his arms as he sat in the armchair across from Tina, relaxing. “Or perhaps the sender feared your sharp tongue more than your sword.”

  Rose stifled a laugh with her hand. Tina arched a brow. “You sound like you know who sent them.”

  “I don’t,” Lancelot admitted, “but I do know it wasn’t from anyone casual. That arrangement says ‘someone who pays attention.’ And if I had to guess…” He trailed off, his gaze sharpening just slightly. “...they want you to second-guess your decision to leave.”

  “I wasn’t aware my decision was common knowledge,” Tina’s smile faded as she turned back to the bouquet. “Whoever sent these, they’ll be disappointed.”

  Lancelot didn’t press further. Instead, he gave a slight nod of approval, as if respecting her resolve—even if he didn’t agree with it.

  A moment later, a knock sounded at the door. The warmth in the room cooled.

  Lancelot stood from his armchair, voice and stance returning to formality the disciplined soldier.. “That would be Lord Paladin Peter.” He moved to the door, pulling it open with care. He walked away from the door and stood by the fireplace.

  In stepped Lord Paladin Peter, clad in the robes of his station, a heavy presence at his heels. The chill in his expression contrasted starkly with the warmth they’d just shared. Two Paladins stepped into the common room, following Petter. Behind them, Tina spotted three more Paladins standing in the hallway beyond the door.

  Tina pushed herself up from the chair, steadying her breath as she clasped her hands in front of her skirt like a shield. “Lord Paladin,” she greeted coolly, her demeanor cautious but unflinching, as if preparing for a joust of wits more than words, the weight of unspoken accusations hanging in the air.

  “Lady Armstrong,” Peter replied, his voice solemn and measured, yet carrying a hint of impatience that suggested dissatisfaction with previous conversations. “I’ve come to speak with you—about the wolf demon… and your views on the presence of non-humans in Camelot.”

  Observing Tina's unyielding expression, Peter paused, as though weighing whether his next words might provoke a confrontation. The silence between them was heavy. Before either could continue, a hushed footfall near the door interrupted, signifying another presence. Peter's eyes flicked towards the sound, registering the stately figure that approached.

  “Lord Peter, I must admit I am surprise you have decided to visit my cousin,” Genesis pushed past the Paladins and strolled into the room, eyes roaming the common room. “I would like to know why.”

  “General Genesis,” Peter nodded in the General’s direction, “I was about to question your cousin about her views on the Non-humans.”

  Genesis walked around the love seat where Rose sat and came to a stop beside Tina, his tone casual but laced with steel. “Funny. I thought Paladins usually handled those matters through official channels, not midnight visits to vessel of noble households.”

  Peter’s expression didn’t change as he admitted, “The timing is inconvenient, I’ll grant you. But so is the presence of a wolf demon invoking ancient words meant only for the Chosen. Words only a few in Camelot should know.”

  Tina rolled her eyes. Her hands curled on her skirt tightening until her knuckles turned white, but her chin remained lifted. Her eyes hard. She heard a faint rumble of thunder in the distance.

  “I do believe I asked the Paladins, the Knights, and the guards not to draw their swords unless he took the first blood. I have worked enough with demon kind to trust their word when they given it,” she said. “If that decision upset you, then I accept your displeasure.”

  Peter folded his hands neatly behind his back, pinning her with a dark glare, “You took a risk—one that could have endangered dozens. And yet, Rōga left without bloodshed. That alone raises questions.”

  The air grew colder, though no window was open. The scent of ozone seemed into the room as lightening flashed outside. The fire in the hearth danced furiously.

  Lancelot, still standing guard near the hearth, spoke then—not loudly, but with deliberate clarity. “She showed restraint. Something many in that courtyard didn’t. There were innocent civilians in that courtyard. She did what was right. Something that should have earn her praise from the Church, but you are here scolding her for doing such action.”

  Peter’s gaze narrowed at the knight. His voice was hard as stone. “Your opinion, Sir Lancelot, is noted. But this isn’t about her restraint. This is about where her sympathies lie.”

  “Sympathies?” The word slipped from Rosemary, who had been standing quietly beside the mantle. “Because she didn’t order an attack on a guest bound by warded magic?”

  “I would hold my tongue if I were you, Lady Rosemary,” one of the Paladins escorting Peter spoke up, “Your household is under suspicion for dealings that the Church doesn’t approve as well.”

  Peter didn’t answer her directly. Instead, his eyes returned to Tina and asked, “So I ask plainly—Lady Armstrong—do you believe non-humans have a place in Camelot’s future?”

  There it was—the question sharpened like a blade. It was nice to get straight to the point. Tina’s voice remained steady, though her pulse quickened. “I believe Camelot belongs to those who fight to protect it. Human or not.”

  A long silence followed.

  Peter’s tone chilled further. “A dangerous sentiment. One the Queens might not appreciate—should they be made aware.”

  Genesis stepped forward, a faint smile on his lips, though his eyes were hard. “Are you threatening my cousin, Lord Paladin?”

  Peter didn’t answer directly, but he gave them a grim smile. His eyes danced with a certain blood lust Tina only saw in the low level demons. She mentally reached out and brushed her spiritual powers over his. She blinked as she took stock of his spiritual powers. Either he was suppressing it to a low level compared to a C ranked demon or he was that weak.

  She closed her eyes with a sigh, before she spoke again, her voice more measured this time. “You’re welcome to inform the Queens, of course. But they saw what happened. That I de-escalated a situation your Paladins nearly would have turned into a bloodbath because you have a hatred of non-humans.” She shook her head. “Demon kind are not that much different from us, Lord Petter. They bleed red as us. They breath the same air. I have heard accounts they even worship the same God as you, hoping to be redeemed in the Lord’s eyes to be able to live in Heaven instead in Hell with their distance cousins.”

  Peter’s jaw tightened, just slightly. Then he gave a shallow nod. “I’ve heard enough—for now.” He turned to leave, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. That action reminded Tina of Blaze. She silently questioned why men like Blaze and Lord Peter had a fascination with cloaks, bellowing out behind them. Just before Lord Peter reached the door, he paused and looked back—not at Tina, but at Genesis, warning, “I hope your loyalties remain as clear as your reputation, General. The Church watches closely these days.”

  “And I hope you never run into a Greater Hell Demon, Lord Peter,” Tina snapped. Thunder boomed outside. Rain pelted the nearby windows and lightening flashed. The fire in the fireplace expelled heat as Genesis took a step forward, recognizing the threat Peter made. “You will find those demons are what nightmares are made of.”

  And with that, Peter exited the Armstrong Suit. The Paladins followed. The door stood open until Lancelot walked from the hearth and pushed the door shut with a click. Tina’s shoulders slumped and sat down in the chair, unladylike. Rose claimed a seat on the love seat.

  “Well, that went better then expected,” Genesis voiced. Tina glanced at him in surprise.

  “Lady Freya would be so proud of you, Tina,” Rose said, “You held your ground. She would have gave a tongue lashing he wouldn’t be able to forget anytime soon.”

  “Are they always like that?” Tina asked, lending forward as she pulled her legs up, sitting crossed legged under the skirt and placed her elbows on her knees.

  “Unfortunately, they are,” Lancelot admitted, “You might have just made an enemy of the largest organization in Avalon.” He paused. “I don’t know if I should congratulate you or warn you to flee to the hills before they send out the Hunters.”

  “Hunters?” Tina raised an eyebrow at Lancelot. “That sounds like fun.” Her tone took on a sarcastic note.

  Rose sighed and commented, “Only you would think so, dear cousin.”

  Genesis shook his head, taking a seat next to Rose and started the explanation, “Hunters are specialized Paladins. They enjoy the hunt of tracking down their prey and dragging back to Roma where they face the judgment of the Pope.” His expression took on a thoughtful look. “Hunters hadn’t been dispatch in a century or two, if I remember correctly.”

  “It was the Demonic Purge,” Lancelot said, “From 1645 to 1715. The Hunters managed to drive the demons into hiding. I am sure most of them escape into their own world.”

  Tina hummed, “That time line sounds about right. 1715 was when the Demon World was created in order to give Demon Kind a place to call their own without the fear of hunted down by humans.” She glanced at Genesis, Rose, and Lancelot. “I asked a lot of questions to my demon teammates when we had some free time. They were pleased someone was trying to understand them.”

  There was a knock at the door, sending a wave of tension. Tina wondered if one of the Paladins dared to return and continued the conversation or worst. Their heads turned to see Kagome, Tina’s maid, stepping into the room. The newcomer paused, seeing their looks. Tina let out a soft chuckle and spoke, “Come in, Kagome. It’s alright.”

  Kagome stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. She spoke, “I have come to help you get ready for bed.”

  “Ah, yes,” Tina uncrossed her legs and set her feet back on the floor before she stood up. “The one thing I hate these dresses. You need help into them and out of them.” She rolled her eyes. Rose giggled. Genesis pulled a face at the thought.

  “My lady,” Lancelot got to his feet and crossed the space between them, gently taking her hand in his. “If ever you find yourself needing assistance—into battle armor or out of royal gowns—you need only whisper my name.”

  Tina blinked, caught somewhere between amusement and scandal, ignoring the heat raising in her cheeks. Rose gasped, eyes widening. Genesis groaned. “I’m still in the room, Lancelot.”

  Lancelot smirked, eyes still on Tina. “And yet, I speak only to her.”

  Tina shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Careful, Sir Lancelot. That almost sounded like an offer.”

  “Only almost?” he asked, eyes twinkling. He pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her waist.

  Tina shook her head, though her expression held the faintest trace of amusement. She fought the urge to burst out laughing, “You’re incorrigible, Lancelot.” She pushed his chest, stepping away.

  Lancelot pressed a hand to his chest. “A knight must train in all forms of charm, my lady. Swordplay, diplomacy, and courtly wit.”

  “Stick to your sword,” she said dryly, slipping her hand free. “It’s the one thing I’ve heard you’re actually good at.”

  Rose let out a little gasp of laughter, her hands covering her mouth, and Genesis smirked, clearly satisfied with the comeback.

  Lancelot gave a mock bow, unfazed. “Then I shall consider myself cut down with honor.”

  Tina rolled her eyes, grabbed the bouquet of flowers, and followed her maid into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

  Genesis shook his head as Rose announced, “I think I shall be going. Tonight has been the most entertaining. Good night, gentlemen.” She swept from the Armstrong Suit, heading next door to the Clover Suit.

  Lancelot glanced at the shut bedroom door, frowning. “Do you think Lady Valentina will be alright?”

  “Yes,” Genesis responded, “She has the fast reflexes of an archer. She almost took my head the other day when Remus and I walked in on her with Lady Morgana and Rose. She threw a vase at us.”

  Lancelot turned and faced Genesis with amused expression before he replied, “Sounds like she can take care of herself.”

  They left the Armstrong Suite and stood in the White Hall hallway for a moment. Genesis turned to the Knight, saying, “Thank you for being in there tonight. I wasn’t expecting Lord Peter to approach her after what happened this afternoon.”

  “I’m glad I could help, General,” Lancelot said, “I know there is a lot of tension brewing between our branches. Some of the Knights are starting to grumble about the Military having too much authority inside the castle walls.”

  Genesis let out a low breath, nodding. “And there are members of the Military thinks the Knights are getting too comfortable acting like their own command. Doesn’t help that you answer more to The Ruling Royal Family than to me.”

  Lancelot gave a small, knowing smile. “We both serve Camelot. That should count for something.”

  Genesis looked at him, tone even. “It should. We can put our differences aside for the greater good of Camelot. But you and I both know that when politics get involved, loyalty becomes a matter of perception.”

  A beat passed between them.

  Lancelot shifted, resting one hand on the hilt of his sword. “Do you think Lord Peter suspects something deeper? About Tina?”

  Genesis didn’t answer immediately. “He suspects everything. That’s the kind of man he is. But I think… he came looking for confirmation, not truth.”

  Lancelot raised an eyebrow. “And did he get it?”

  Genesis smirked faintly. “Only what Tina allowed him to see. In the short time I’ve known her, she’s a complex woman. One moment she’s open, showing emotion… and the next, she’s stone-faced, hiding everything behind a wall.”

  They shared a moment of understanding. There are some women like that.

  Lancelot straightened his shoulders. “I’ll check the corridor near the Queen’s Tower before turning in. Make sure no one’s loitering near the suites. Check on the Knight rotation. Lord Jackson had commented to me that he would be putting in a good word with the new King to put me as the Head of the King’s Guard.”

  Genesis gave a nod. “You have done a good job, Lancelot. It is a position you deserve to be rewarded.”

  Lancelot offered a crisp bow. “Sleep well, General.”

  Genesis turned, footsteps echoing softly as he walked down the dim corridor, the candles casting long shadows on the stone floor. The Bravest Knight of Camelot watched him disappeared into the Main White Hall Suite then he turned on his heel, preparing to do his last patrol for the night.

  Ralph Barkson sighed, tapping his foot against the stone floor. He couldn’t believe Kikyo Orion had managed to get the team into the castle. The room was a storage room, close to the White Hall Wing of the castle. He was ready to get this mission over with. He couldn’t believe it had taken them nearly 11 days to complete this mission without travel time. Maybe he could try to talk to Lord Raizen about getting a slightly bigger payday out of this mission, given how much trouble Tina had given them.

  Waya shifted on the floor where he took a sitting position. He looked annoyed. His fingers tapped against the stone floor. He broke the silence, filling the storage room, “Why can’t we just kidnap Tina again from her bed? It would be easy to do with the Castle being asleep.”

  “Unfortunately,” Abasi Nara replied from his place among the wooden rafters above Ralph’s head, “We can’t do that. Security is tightened due to the lack of a Chosen King. I have spotted members of the Church patrolling with the Knights and the Guards more often and they are trying to do at random intervals, instead of a pattern.”

  Waya crossed his arms over his chest and lend his head back, sending a glare up into the rafters. “So we just sit here and wait?” he grumbled. “Feels like we’ve been doing that for days.”

  Abasi’s voice drifted down, calm and unbothered. “Patience is a virtue, Waya. Besides, the moment Tina steps out of the castle, the guards will thin out. That’s our chance.”

  Ralph glanced toward the door, checking it for the tenth time. No sound beyond the stone walls. Just the quiet hum of castle life settling for the night. He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease.

  “Kikyo will have a report for us when she returns, helping Tina retire for the night,” Ralph pointed, “Hopefully, Tina hasn’t changed her plans, yet, about leaving after seeing who is chosen as the Next Ruler of Camelot.” He paused. “I can’t really blame her for that desire.”

  “Yeah, it will be interesting to see the Holy Sword will chose,” Waya admitted. He sent his team mates a crocked grin, “I mean, if one of us tried, can you image living like a King?”

  “Hate to burst your bubble, Waya,” Abasi commented, “It would just like being Lord Bark, except for a few key differences.”

  “Like what?” Waya asked.

  “Being able to deliver punishments,” Ralph sighed, “Remember a few years ago when we had a problem with a serial rapist.” Waya’s expression turned grim, remembering all too well. “The entire village agreed with the death punishment. There are groups of people within Camelot who would agree against that kind of punishment because the King didn’t allied to their views and doesn’t them favorable treatment when it comes to trade.”

  Waya shook his head, “That doesn't make a lick of sense.”

  “Of course, it doesn’t, but Camelot has a different form of governance then the village has,” Abasi agreed, “I believe what we have is called a Military Dictatorship, to the outside world. Our lord has the final word on anything. Camelot is a Monarchy. While their Chosen King has the final word on majority of things, the Court can argue against or for a policy before the King makes the final decision.”

  Ralph nodded, “Earth has several forms of governments. When I traveled there, the Country called the United States was a constitutional republic and they had a President, Judges, and elected officials having the same amount of power. They were supposed to keep each other in line through various checks and balances.” He paused, thinking, “I think the land called Great Britain was a Constitutional Monarchy.”

  “What does that mean?” Waya asked.

  “The King and Queen are figure heads for the Government and are asked if a Prime Minster could established a government under them,” Abasi explained, “The true power rests in the parliamentary group. They make all the laws and what kind of punishments are delivered, depending on the crime.” He mused out loud, “When I visited, I find it rather silly, jailing people over the silliest comments.”

  A series of knocks echoed through the room. The men frozen. Waya and Ralph glanced at each other. Ralph jumped, grabbing onto the rafters. Waya hurried to his feet. The door opened. He leaped into the rafters. He pulled his feet up as a person stepped into the room. The door shut behind them. The three ninja sat, watching as the person knelt beside the door, setting something on the floor. They walked to the center of the room.

  Ralph couldn’t see what the person was doing in the dark, but a candle lit. Kikyo’s form appeared. The three ninja let out a sigh of relief. She looked up at them. She smirked, “It’s safe to come down, boys.”

  Ralph landed first, in a crunch and stood up as Abasi landed beside him and Waya on the other side. Ralph looked at Kikyo, saying, “Report.”

  “Well, Tina is still planning to leave the morning after the Choosing Ceremony concludes,” Kikyo started, “Her bag is still packed and ready to go. However, she had earn an admirer who might end up missing her when she leaves. Someone left her a bouquet of flowers in her Suit while she was out. They did leave a single note, asking her to stay.”

  “Great,” Waya moaned, “I didn’t think a love letter would come into play.”

  “It won’t stop her from leaving,” Ralph rolled his eyes. “She’s stubborn. You’d need the gods themselves to stop her.”

  “Unless someone talks her into staying,” Abasi added, more as an afterthought than a warning. “Depending on who gave her the flowers, that might be a possibility.”

  A pause settled over the group again. The candlelight flickered against crates and shelves—rows of dried goods and unused furniture casting long shadows along the walls.

  “We could try to figure out who gave them to her,” Waya suggested. “In case, they try to follow us back to the village.” He glanced around, “We might be able to stop them or prevent them from following us.”

  “Considering her station, it might be a Lord of the Court or a Knight,” Kikyo pointed out, “Either option, they will know how to fight.” She crossed her arms over her chest, “As of right now, I have no clue who her secret admirer could be.”

  “Hmm,” Abasi hummed, “I thought you were since you are supposed to be following her around all the time.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m undercover as a maid,” she glared at Abasi, “Meaning I do maid work around the castle instead of following her around. I’m already planning to ask around tomorrow to see if anyone saw someone entering the Armstrong Suit with flowers and who could be interested in Tina.”

  “I could do that,” Waya volunteered.

  “No,” three voices echoed. Waya pouted as silence filled the room.

  Ralph shot him a glare. “Don’t start. The last thing we need is you charging through the halls over a bouquet.” He stretched his arms above his head, shaking off the frustration. “We’ve come this far. We’ll finish this right. When she leaves the castle, we follow. No direct contact until she’s on the road.”

  “Then what?” Waya asked, excitedly. His pout vanished, “You planning to ambush her in the forest?”

  “That depends on where she goes,” Ralph said simply. “But the moment she’s clear of Camelot’s reach, we bring her in. Quietly. Quickly.”

  Abasi commented, “And cleanly. No blood. No public scene. We don’t want to start a war we’re not getting paid to finish.”

  Ralph nodded, mostly to himself. “Once she’s ours again, we send word to the Hidden Bark. Let Raizen know we’ve completed the mission.”

  Waya cracked his knuckles. “About time.”

  “Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” Kikyo said, “I have to get back to work. Sebastian is a slave driver.” She shook her head as she walked back over to the door, grabbing the basket holding a dress. She glanced over her shoulder, “I see you boys tomorrow night. Hopefully, the next King will be chosen. Night.”

  Ralph didn’t reply. He was already picturing the road ahead—the waiting, the timing, the capture. And the face of a girl who’d made their lives a nightmare for eleven days straight. He heard Waya muttering about the lack of a cozy bed and Abasi threatening to knock him out to keep him quite.

  “Just a little longer, Tina,” Ralph muttered under his breath. “And then we go home.”

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