After Gawain had eaten and drunk his fill, Bedivere likewise collapsed onto the kitchen floor.
He muttered:
"This is a chef's victory... my victory..."
Then, heedless of the dirt and grime on the floor, he fell straight asleep.
"We just got Gawain back on his feet, and now Sir Bedivere is down... what is going on here..."
Seeing that Bedivere would not be getting up anytime soon, Sovell sighed and instructed a guard:
"You, go find two people who are quick and gentle.
Have them change Sir Bedivere's clothes and wash his hair. Don't disturb him; let him get some proper rest.
As for the bulk of today's work... leave it to his deputy for now."
"Yes, sir."
Once he had settled Bedivere, who had fallen gloriously in battle, Sovell prepared to take Gawain to see Artoria.
Outside the great hall, a guard had gone in to announce them, while Gawain waited at the door with Sovell.
Looking at Gawain's impeccable appearance and solemn expression, Sovell tried to ease the tension by asking:
"Are you nervous, Sir Gawain?"
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. But when meeting a monarch, even if your heart is uneasy, you mustn't let it show.
Isn't that right, Sovell?"
Gawain naturally understood Sovell's intentions, and so relaxed his slightly stiff expression.
"Hahaha, so the reckless kid who challenged visitors to duels in Orkney six years ago can say things like that now?"
Sovell threw an arm around Gawain's shoulders. Looking at this old friend, who clearly outshone his peers in every respect, even Sovell could not help feeling happy for him.
"Come on, Sovell, don't tease me..."
As the two chatted and laughed, the hall doors opened again. The guard came out, saluted them, and said:
"Lord Sovell, Prince Gawain, our king