Morgan was overthinking.
As a noble red dragon princess, she fretted over her children's intellect... or lack thereof. But what she didn't know was that all five, including her favored Agravain, wanted nothing to do with her.
Britain's enchantress, vengeful witch, the architect of Camelot's downfall... such fearsome titles burdened her, making her children, raised by her hand, keep her at arm's length.
Yet Agravain came.
Defying immense pressure, he stood before this parallel world's mother to confirm one thing:
How close was she to becoming truly "inhuman"?
Minutes later, Morgan left the cramped magecraft workshop, stepping into the temple's rear garden.
Her pace was slow, her earlier aggression gone. A new aura enveloped her... majestic like a valkyrie, yet pure like a fairy.
It was proof she neared the "divine realm."
After thirty years, the island's will, trapped in her frail body, stirred restlessly. Despite her efforts to suppress it, that day was near.
Here, she could only be grateful her island's will wasn't Vortigern's, steeped in despair and destruction. That gave her some time.
"Hey, a gathering of fools!" She said.
She claimed Gareth's seat at the stone table with brazen authority. Gareth, unfazed, scooted over to share space with Mash.
Agravain stood behind Morgan, watching her down the jade-green potion they'd crafted.
A familiar sight.
In life, before he was a Knight of the Round Table, when he was just her son under her rigorous training, this scene played out daily.
But unlike his memories, this parallel world's "Mother" didn't dwell in a damp, grim basement surrounded by torture devices.
Instead, she had a cozy, functional workshop, with fresh breezes and warm sunlight streaming through the window after brewing.
And, of course, her barbed greeting... mocking to outsiders, but a clumsy expression of goodwill.
"So, what foolish idea has my naive sister cooked up this time, summoning even Servants?" Morgan asked.
Translation: I'm ready to clean up her mess.
What followed was true "laughter and family joy."
Gareth took the lead, answering Morgan's questions with ease.
As Morgan's only daughter, the petite knight princess's vibrant, gracious demeanor matched her mother's ideal of a proper girl.
Lively, poised.
Far better than the purple eggplant beside her, barely managing three words!
Agravain, behind Morgan, remained silent.
Head bowed, he listened intently to the mother-daughter exchange, gleaning vital information. Then, he looked up, his complex gaze meeting Alaric's.
Alaric returned the stare.
The stoic knight maintained a calm facade, but Alaric's piercing eyes saw the turmoil within... a tempest of "conflict."
Since bearing the island's curse and despair, Alaric's sensitivity to emotions, especially negative ones, had sharpened.
He sensed the man's immense pain.
Not physical.
The agony of realizing an ideal, only to destroy it himself.
The torment of serving the perfect king while his nature forced him to see through all illusions, exposing the cruelest truths.
To fight for truth.
It wasn't just a constraint etched on Rhongomyniad's twelve seals... it was Agravain's lifelong oath.
He was barely restraining himself from speaking out.
But then...
"Hey, everyone's here? Having afternoon tea?" A voice like silver bells rang out at the garden's entrance.
A beautiful princess stood there, eyeing the group with curiosity. Spotting Gareth, she rushed over, tackling the petite knight in a hug.
"Your Highness, the Queen…" Gareth gasped, startled, before realizing her mistake... this world's Guinevere wasn't married to the king.
She clamped her mouth shut.
Luckily, Guinevere didn't mind.
"Your Highness Morgan, is this your daughter? She's adorable!" She said.
Fresh from the palace, having heard the situation from Artoria, Guinevere had raced to the temple.
Her goal was clear:
Meet these parallel-world Knights of the Round Table.
And tease her dear friend.
"Who'd have thought? Camelot's untouchable flower, mother to five children!" She said, grinning.
"Still better than you, the emotionally unfaithful queen!" Morgan shot back.
"Shut it!"
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