"You're Sir Agravain's younger brother?" Arthur sat on the throne, looking down at the boy kneeling before him.
The boy was only eleven, yet he was tall and sturdy, already over five feet tall.
He had a youthful, handsome face and soft, tousled golden hair. Dressed in proper noble attire, he knelt meekly and respectfully before his king—his uncle.
"Yes, my king."
Arthur smiled and asked, "What brings you here, Gawain?"
"Please allow me to pledge my loyalty to you, my king." Gawain raised his head solemnly. His tone and expression were far more mature and resolute than his age would suggest. "I heard from my elder brother, Lamorak, that you wanted to form the strongest and finest order of knights."
Arthur's smile gradually faded.
She was silent for a moment before speaking slowly. "Gawain, you're only eleven."
Gawain abruptly raised his head, meeting Arthur's lion-like gaze.
It was imposing, stern, and bright.
He couldn't help but falter for an instant. The words he'd meant to say caught in his throat.
"Can you tell me why you want to pledge your loyalty to me?" Arthur leaned forward, looking intrigued.
Gawain took a deep breath and carefully chose his words. "Because I'm your nephew, and a knight of Britain."
Then he bowed his head deeply.
Just then, a red-haired figure dressed as a knight entered the council hall.
Like Gawain, he knelt on one knee with his right hand over his chest.
"King Arthur."
Arthur turned her attention to him. "You must be the one recommended by Teacher Merlin and Sir Anno... Sir Tristan? The knight who wandered with princesses from other countries?"
Tristan stood and nodded. "I am Tristan, nineteen years old, a wandering knight with no lord to serve... I was once a prince of the Kingdom of Mark."