C147

The nobles whispered amongst themselves, their faces reflecting a mixture of intrigue and curiosity.

"Who is that lady?" one of them asked.

"The wife of the border commander of Nantes," another replied.

"She's making it difficult for Arthur to come down from the stage like this. Is this what the Nantes wants?" a third noble mused aloud.

"This is quite interesting. Let's see how Arthur handles this," a fourth added, clearly entertained by the unfolding drama.

Suddenly, Artoria appeared behind Shirou, her muscles tense and her expression solemn. The nervousness and embarrassment that had been evident on her face earlier had vanished, replaced instead by a fierce determination, as if she were ready to launch an attack at any moment.

Morgan watched the scene play out, her face still wearing an elegant and noble smile. However, if one looked closely at her eyes, they would detect a coldness akin to ice.

In response to the noblewoman's harsh comments, Shirou remained composed and asked in a calm, indifferent tone, "It seems that this lady has some grievances with me. What is it that you don't like about me?"

"Firstly, your speech," the noblewoman replied, her tone dripping with disdain. "And secondly, your short stature. You have no masculinity. How could you possibly be fit to be a king?"

At the noblewoman's words, Artoria's gaze sharpened and her expression turned fierce. However, Shirou subtly shifted his position and used his body to prevent her from intervening.

With a polite smile on his face, he calmly replied to the noblewoman's criticism, "You needn't worry about that, madam. As it turns out, you won't have the opportunity to experience any of those shortcomings."

The noblewoman was taken aback by his response, but the polite yet sarcastic tone of his words won him applause from those nearby.

Without missing a beat, Shirou picked up a nearby towel and wiped his hands, then turned to the lady with a smile and said, "Madam, could you please make way? I'm sorry, but my hands are rather small, so I can only deal with one piece of trash at a time."

The noblewoman was shocked by his words.

"What did you say?" she demanded.

Undeterred, he simply repeated his statement with a smile. "I said I can only deal with one piece of trash at a time, madam."

"Clap, clap, clap!!!"

The surrounding nobles couldn't help but applaud and smile at Shirou's quick wit and polite yet sharp comebacks. Even some of the more frivolous guests whistled in admiration. He had turned the tables on the noblewoman with his deft use of sarcasm, all while maintaining an impeccable sense of etiquette.

This was their way of handling situations: to pursue excellence in all things, including how to deal with difficult people without losing face.

The noblewoman was visibly trembling with anger, clearly stunned by his unexpected retorts.

With a smile on his face, Shirou calmly walked past the noblewoman and casually tossed the trash into a nearby bin. As he had not yet ascended to the throne, he did not have the authority to order someone's execution. However, had he already been crowned king and someone had acted in such a manner, his knights and nobles who had pledged their loyalty to him would have swiftly and unhesitatingly dealt with the offender.

The lady was about to say something else, but Morgan stepped forward, a drink in hand, and abruptly splashed it in the noblewoman's face.

"Morgan le Fay, you--!"

"That's enough. This is my party. Leave now," Morgan said coldly, her stern demeanor leaving no room for argument.

The noblewoman sputtered in indignation, "You--! Do you know who I am? I'm from Nantes..."

At that moment, Agravain intervened, stepping forward to address the woman. "Madam, Princess Morgan le Fay represents the will of Orkney. Can you claim to represent the will of Nantes?" he asked in a firm yet measured tone.

The noblewoman's face twisted in anger and humiliation as the surrounding guests jeered and murmured disapprovingly. In the end, she silently made her way out of the venue, her once haughty demeanor now reduced to one of bitter defeat.

Agravain leaned in and whispered, "Mother, your illusion is starting to fade."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, and the icy veneer that had been concealing her true feelings began to dissipate, revealing an elegant smile. "Apologies for the disturbance earlier. Please enjoy the rest of the evening," she said cordially to the assembled guests.

The nobles nodded in agreement, unperturbed by the brief disruption. In fact, for many of them, the trouble had been a source of entertainment. However, Shirou's composed reaction had impressed them, and he soon found himself the center of attention, with even more nobles - including some high-born ladies - seeking out his company.

As the party gradually regained its festive spirit, Morgan's demeanor softened into a pleasant smile. She leaned in to whisper to Agravain, "Make that woman disappear, but don't let it reflect poorly on my brother. You know what needs to be done, Agravain."

"I understand, Mother," he nodded, slipping away from the festivities like a dutiful shadow.

Shirou observed the exchange, and a sense of foreboding crept over him. He couldn't help but suspect that the woman's fate was sealed, and that Agravain had been tasked with seeing it through.

He couldn't help but feel that the woman had made a grave mistake. Even if she didn't like him, she should have been aware of the circumstances and the identity of the party's host. Even if she was unaware of Morgan's true nature as an evil witch, she should have recognized that this was an event organized by the Kingdom of Orkney. Her poor judgement had ultimately led to her downfall.

Wait a minute!

Wasn't the woman the wife of the border commander of Nantes? Could this be the intention of Nantes behind the scenes?

Shirou didn't know, so he had to put this thought aside and focus on dealing with the various nobles who were toasting him.

Following some brief introductions, the nobles feasted and indulged in drink before inviting one another to dance.

Several noble ladies also extended invitations to Shirou, but he courteously declined. These women didn't seem to take offense, however, as there were other guests who caught their fancy, such as Gawain, renowned as the "Sun Knight," Tristan, who bewitched them with his music, and Gaheris. But despite his search throughout the party, Shirou couldn't find Gaheris.

Numerous young noblemen approached Artoria during the ball to request a dance, but they were deterred by her solemn demeanor. In reality, her expression was a blend of anxiety and embarassment, but it gave the impression of sternness.

Observing Artoria's discomfort, Shirou led her out of the bustling hall and into the tranquil castle gardens. As soon as they stepped outside, she let out a sigh of relief, and her face softened.

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Much better, my king."

As she visibly relaxed, he couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"What's so amusing, my king?" she asked, touching her face with concern. "Did I embarrass you? If so, I apologize. I've never participated in such an event before."

"No, I would never mock anyone except for that scoundrel Merlin," he shook his head. "I just saw the expression on your face and it reminded me of myself when I graduated and entered society."

"Graduated? From a school?"

"Sort of."

"My king, could you instruct me on how those noblewomen fight?" she asked.

"How they fight?" he repeated, looking perplexed. "Do you mean dancing?"

She nodded, her solemn blue eyes conveying a sense of determination. "If that's also a form of combat, then I will never be defeated!"

Shirou was sweating profusely as he observed her unwavering resolve. 'You've got it all wrong, Artie.'

"Well, if we're talking about musical instruments, I do have some experience, but I'm not much of a dancer," he admitted. "However, for women, the so-called dance should be like this..." He stepped in front of her, gesturing with his hand to make a circle. "You should hold your skirt and twirl like this."

She followed his instructions, but her movements were rigid and stilted, and her face remained expressionless, almost robotic.

"Good job, Artie! Let's try another one."

She complied and turned around slowly.

"How do you feel?"

"Okay... but what a foolish movement! It's so embarrassing! Why do women perform such foolish movements, my king?"

He was at a loss for words and couldn't offer an explanation.

"Arthur--!" Suddenly, a gentle voice called out from behind him. Shirou turned his head and spotted Morgan and Gawain, slowly making their way towards them.

"Sister?" he approached Morgan with Artoria and asked, "My dear sister, aren't you supposed to be hosting the party?"

"An unwelcome guest caused quite a disturbance, and the party had to be cut short," Morgan explained.

"I feel terrible for leaving in the midst of it. How impolite of me!" he exclaimed.

Morgan chuckled. "Don't worry about it. You did remarkably well tonight, and my friends spoke very highly of you."

"That's because I have such an excellent role model in you, sister."

"You always know what to say to flatter me," Morgan responded with a smile.

"Here, consider it my gift to you," Morgan said, motioning towards Gawain, who reluctantly brought his horse to the forefront.

Shirou's gaze settled on the horse. It was a magnificent creature, with a flawless coat of pure white and a lustrous shine that glimmered like silver. It was truly a sight to behold.

Gawain appeared hesitant, while Artoria's eyes sparkled with excitement. Taking note of their contrasting reactions, Shirou realized that the horse was likely exceptional, but he remained perplexed by Morgan's gesture. "Sister, what is this..."

Morgan approached him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You are about to be crowned as a king. As a ruler, you cannot afford to have an ordinary steed. This is a gift from me, a crossbreed of dragon and horse. It's a magnificent creature, specially sourced for you from Ireland to commemorate your coronation."

She glanced towards Gawain and cleared her throat. "Gawain, please hand over the reins to Arthur."

Reluctantly, Gawain surrendered the reins to him, pausing momentarily before letting go. It was evident that the horse held a great fascination for Gawain. As the reins slipped into Shirou's grasp, Artoria's eyes lit up with excitement.

Shirou expressed his gratitude to Morgan. "Thank you so much, dear sister. You have been so kind to me."

"Who else would be good to you if not your sister, given that you are the only male heir of the Pandragons family?" Morgan remarked, pleased with his gratitude. She smiled and added, "Just remember my generosity when you ascend to the throne."

"I won't forget," he promised.

"That's excellent, Arthur. I heard that your escort has arrived to take you to Camelot. You should head back and rest," she advised.

"Alright," he acknowledged before departing with Artoria. The carriage awaited them outside the castle gates.

It was peculiar that the magnificent horse made no attempt to resist and obediently trailed the carriage without a hint of protest. It was apparent that Morgan had taken care of all the arrangements beforehand.

Gawain's gaze was fixated on the horse until it vanished from sight. His heart felt hollow all of a sudden. The allure of the splendid creature had been overwhelming for him.

However -

"Mother, did you overlook something?" Gawain asked.

"What did I forget?"

"Did you happen to forget a gift for Lady Artoria? After all, she is your sister..." Gawain reminded her cautiously.

"Oh, I must have forgotten. I'll make it up to her next time," Morgan dismissed the concern with a wave of her hand. She then asked, "Has Agravain returned yet?"

"Not yet," Gawain replied.

"Our efficiency has certainly taken a hit," Morgan muttered to herself before departing.

...

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