The Wedding

Today was Leon's wedding day.

At Leon's insistence, preparations for the wedding had been rushed along for over a month. Countless people and resources had been put to work, and an incalculable fortune spent, just to barely gather everything they needed.

The sun shone brightly, and not a cloud marred the sky.

The streets of Camelot were covered with expensive carpets. Flowers lined the carpets and roadsides, while brilliant silks hung from the trees, flaunting the Lion King's astonishing wealth.

The church belonging to the royal palace was packed with ministers, soldiers, representatives of the people, and envoys from various countries.

All had gathered to witness the two stars of the occasion make their entrance.

Morgan wore new silk clothes with a soft, comfortable feel, simply wrapped in four or five layers. The outermost brocade was embroidered with understated patterns in gold thread. Over her shoulders lay a gigantic velvet mantle more than six meters long, adorned with over 120,000 pearls and hundreds of thousands of crystal beads.

On her head rested a newly forged crown. An egg-sized sapphire was set at its center, while the sides were decorated with tens of thousands of tiny crystals and several dozen red and green gems arranged in alternating rows. A sheer black veil fell from the crown, hiding her exquisite face.

Compared to Morgan's subdued yet weighty attire, Leon looked much more at ease.

He, too, wore new clothes. His outer ceremonial robe just brushed the ground, a silver chain circled his left wrist, and his right hand rested on the Golden Sword at his waist. A faint smile played on his face.

Amid the solemn music, the priest's prayers and blessings rang out.

The priest was an old acquaintance. He had witnessed Leon draw the Sword in the Stone with his own eyes, then risen through the ranks alongside Leon. Now he had been invited to bless Leon's wedding.

Leon had no deep prejudice against the gods worshipped by the doves. Not the one on the cross, nor Shakyamuni or Li Boyang—not even the she-wolf who raised the brothers Romulus and Remus.

As he always said: what if?

What if some blue birdman really had set a trap for him?

From beginning to end, Leon had always harbored a trace of doubt about the true nature of the world.

"I am willing to take Princess Morgan as my wife and never leave her side."

"I, too, am willing to marry Leon and remain faithful to him forever."

"Congratulations!"

Amid the crowd's blessings, Leon and Morgan climbed into a carriage made of gold. It rolled over the bright carpets and flowers, and after circling the route beneath the kneeling gaze of the crowds, returned to the royal palace.

The ceremony was over, but the celebrations would continue for more than ten days.

Leon would also host several days of banquets at the palace, along with song and dance, games, gladiatorial contests, and other events to celebrate the wedding.

He had once asked his father how much the whole affair had cost. Luther had made a rough calculation: about twice the expense of the coronation, enough to spend nearly all of what Leon had looted in the north and east.

Even so, Luther had been extremely frugal. The clothes had been woven, the gold and silver jewelry made, and the city cleaned and its streets decorated. Most of the labor had been conscripted from the people of the royal city, who were given neither food nor pay.

All the gems and crystals used for the occasion had been supplied by Merlin. Apparently, he knew a powerful gem merchant who had offered to provide Leon with all the jewels he needed for free.

At the evening banquet, Leon, being poor at handling social niceties, left all the diplomatic business with the foreign envoys to Luther and Joe.

As Leon held Morgan's hand, he suddenly spotted the Knight of the Lake, who had arrived with the French envoys.

Ever since his date with Morgan, he had been thinking about Lancelot. Though Lancelot was weaker than him, his swordsmanship was far beyond ordinary, a rare talent in this age.

When Leon approached, Lancelot was chatting and laughing with a noblewoman.

"Sir Lancelot, am I interrupting?"

"Not at all. What can I do for you, Your Highness?" Lancelot replied, a little stiffly.

He had been a lord in France. After hearing tales of the Sword in the Stone and the Lion King on the island across the sea, his people had started comparing him to the king. Driven by curiosity and wounded pride, he had set foot in Britain.

Along the way, he happened to meet a French envoy traveling in the same direction. Knowing of Lancelot's prowess, the envoy hired him as a bodyguard, and they came to Camelot together.

He had entered a tournament hosted by nobles and wealthy men to show off his prowess and make a name for himself in a foreign land, only for Leon to knock him flat with a single sword strike.

Even after all this time, the memory of that blow still made his chest ache faintly.

"How have you been finding Camelot?"

Faced with the Lion King's friendly concern, Lancelot settled his nerves after his initial stiffness.

"Thank you for asking, Your Highness. I've been very well in Camelot."

He had even met the love of his life there.

"Good. I'm glad you're satisfied." Leon got straight to the point and made his offer. "Sir Lancelot, your swordsmanship is unlike anything I've ever seen. I hope you'll stay and put your full talents to use in my service."

"Well..." Lancelot hesitated.

After his duel with Leon, he had planned to return home, but Leon's coronation and wedding had followed one after the other, leaving him little choice but to stay longer.

Fortunately, that extra time had allowed him to meet the woman he now loved.

During his stay, he had also heard stories about the Lion King and formed an initial impression of Leon himself.

Most things were fine. It was just Leon's brutal, erratic nature that he found hard to accept.

Seeing Lancelot hesitate, Leon didn't pressure him. This was a decision that would shape the rest of his life, after all.

"You don't need to give me an answer now. Take some time to think it over. My door will always be open to you."

With that, Leon left with Morgan, leaving the conflicted Lancelot in the company of the woman he loved.

On the way back, Morgan asked Leon with a puzzled look, "Why are you being so generous this time? I thought you'd force him to answer on the spot, and if he refused, you'd never let him off the hook."

"Morgan, I think you have the wrong idea about me."

When Leon saw the "Do I?" look on his wife's face, he sighed.

She wasn't wrong.

"Sometimes, slowing things down a little makes it easier for people to let go of their reservations—and easier to get what you want."

Leon had told Lancelot to take more time to think. He hadn't said he'd let him leave Britain.

Once Leon had set his sights on someone, did they really think they could just walk away?

"By the way, Morgan, what do you think of Lancelot?" Leon suddenly asked her.

Morgan said expressionlessly, "Not much. I don't have a particularly strong impression of that knight."

Hearing her say that, Leon felt a strange sense of relief.

He remembered that Lancelot was very popular in the stories about King Arthur—King Arthur himself, Guinevere, Elaine... In fact, Arthur valued Lancelot more than his own queen, Guinevere.

There was even a tale in which Morgan le Fay pursued Lancelot, only to be rejected.

Seeing Morgan's attitude now, Leon could only exclaim, Mushroom, you really did a great job changing the story!

"Leon, what should we name our child?"

"Hmm, let me think..."