"Ah, the newbies are about to arrive."

Iris glanced at the holographic display on her bracelet, a casual smirk playing on her lips.

She stood up and bowed gracefully toward Guinevere, "I must take my leave, Your Majesty. The newcomers will be here shortly, and I've been assigned to welcome them."

Guinevere’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "Ah, welcoming newbies. I remember it well. I can still recall the sensation of their blood trickling down my arms after I introduced their faces to the tarmac."

We stared at her in surprise, and Iris, ever quick-witted, quipped, "It seems face-planting is a royal tradition. Who knew?"

Turning back to me, Iris said, "I should get going."

We shared a lingering kiss, her lips warm against mine before she pulled back. "Be careful, you maniac," I cautioned, "I should accompany you."

She pressed a finger to my lips, silencing my offer with a smirk, "Nah. Spend some time with your family. Carlo’s offered to assist."

I frowned, "Carlo? Really?"

Iris raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Jealous?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Nah. I’m just worried he’ll dampen your enjoyment of beating the shit out of cocky newbies."

"Oh, I won’t let him." She chuckled, her voice filled with mischief.

Bowing again to Guinevere and Gawain, Iris added, "Your Majesty, Your Highness."

I raised an eyebrow, "What about me? I’m royalty as well."

Laughing, Iris pulled me into another quick kiss, "How’s that?"

I grinned, "Better."

"See you later, love," she said softly before turning around and heading out of the lounge area.

"Now I’m getting jealous." Gawain’s grin stretched wide, a playful gleam in his eyes.

Guinevere laughed softly, "Considering you’re known as the 'Knight of Maidens,' I must give Ragnelle credit. She managed to win you over despite the stiff competition."

I glanced at Gawain, "Ragnelle?"

He gave me a sheepish grin, "Yeah, my girlfriend."

Ah, the story of Gawain and Ragnelle.

In my past life, he’d broken her curse, transforming her from an old hag back to her true form, and they had fallen deeply in love.

Seems like, no matter the universe, Ragnelle and Gawain are destined for each other.

How disgustingly sweet.

I’m getting diabetes just thinking about it.

Guinevere sighed, "I envy Morg. Her children are enjoying the spring of their youth."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what about my delightful and loving sisters?"

She winced at the not-so-subtle jab. "You still can’t let it go, can you?"

My expression hardened. "Never."

Guinevere sighed again, "Alright. Morgan is as committed as ever. As the Crown Princess, she’s buried in responsibility."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Honestly, she’s a workaholic with her guard permanently up. And she’s only twenty-one!"

I smirked, "I see that Morgan is still the same."

"I wonder..." I turned to meet Guinevere’s gaze squarely. "Mother, do I even exist in Morgan’s eyes anymore?"

Guinevere’s eyes darkened, unreadable, "You’ll have to ask her yourself when you return."

"Seems even you can’t decipher her," I remarked, noting the tightness in her expression.

She gave a small, sad smile. "Morgan has always taken after her father."

I shifted the conversation, curious. "And what of Elaine?"

Guinevere’s smile faded entirely, replaced with concern. "Elaine... has changed."

I raised my eyebrows. "Changed?"

Both Guinevere and Gawain nodded.

"She’s become reclusive, spending most of her days locked away in her room," Gawain explained, his voice tinged with worry.

"Ever since you left, she’s distanced herself from her friends, and her entire demeanour has shifted," Guinevere added, her voice heavy with concern.

"She neglects her training and studies, and she barely speaks to any of us. Not to me, not to Morgan, not even to your father."

Gawain sighed. "And she’s even more distant from the little one."

My frown deepened. Could my actions toward her have caused this change?

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Oops.

I definitely don’t feel bad about that.

But still, something else was off. Guinevere and Gawain were hiding something. Something else had happened to Elaine.

Oh well. What’s it to me?

Still... I’d bet my salary it involved her getting beat up in some way or another.

Heh. Now that puts me in a good mood.

I chuckled to myself and decided to ask about one more person. "And how’s Trinity?"

Trinity Pendragon. The third High Princess who was born just two years ago.

Seems like sending me to the Shield put the High King in an excellent mood.

Guinevere’s eyes brightened instantly at the mention of her youngest daughter. "Oh, she’s just the cutest! She really wants to see you."

Gawain grinned as well. "We had to sneak out while she was asleep. Otherwise, she would’ve thrown a fit about wanting to come along."

"Wow. Two years old and already throwing tantrums. She really is your daughter," I teased, earning a shared laugh from both of them.

"But back to the matter at hand," I said, the levity fading from my voice. "We've got sidetracked."

Guinevere nodded in agreement. "You're right."

"So," I leaned forward, curiosity piqued, "You and my mother were both Deathwalkers?"

She nodded, her expression serious. "Indeed we were."

Drawing back the sleeve of her sweater, she touched the skin below her wrist. Her skin rippled as if it were a mirage, and a Deathwalker mark appeared underneath her phoenix tattoo along with many horrible scars.

"A masking code," I guessed, studying the five vertical lines signifying five years of service. "I never came across any mention of you being a Deathwalker in the histories I've read."

Guinevere gave me a bitter smile. "As you know, surviving Deathwalkers are never treated kindly by the people."

"And if the citizens learn that their beloved Queen was one of them, things will get quite hairy," I surmised.

She nodded, her eyes reflecting a deep sadness. "I hate doing this, masking the scars and suffering of fighting the daemons. But if it eases their minds, I'm willing to conceal my scars until my last breath."

Gazing at the mark on her, I replied, "I understand. To be a king or a queen, one must be the perfect being in the eyes of the people, someone they can revere and look up to even during the darkest of times."

Damn. I am such a wise guy. Sometimes my wisdom is frightening.

My smile met hers as our eyes locked. "I've heard the adoration the people have for you, Mother. You truly are an exceptional queen."

She looked moved, shaking her head slightly. "Thank you for saying that. But your mother was a more exceptional High Queen than I ever was and ever will be."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mum was?"

Guinevere nodded, her eyes distant with memories. "She was beloved by not just the Kingdom but the entire world."

"Her kindness was boundless, and her ferocity in battle was utterly terrifying. No woman has ever reached the level that Morgause reached during her life."

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she reminisced about her time with Morgause. "She remains the greatest friend I've ever had. When she died, the whole world mourned for her. Millions, from the lowliest beggars to the mighty Crowns, appeared for her funeral."

She sighed heavily. "I am nowhere near the queen she ever was."

Turning to Gawain, I asked, "You never shared this side of Mum with me."

He looked guilty, his posture deflated. "I feared you'd resent her for leaving you in this world. That's why I kept much of it from you."

He lowered his head. "I am truly sorry for that, Mordred."

"No need to bow your head, Gawain," I said with a gentle smile. "It's unbecoming for the High Prince to do so."

I then turned to Guinevere and spoke, "So Mum was a Deathwalker."

She nodded solemnly. "She was. In fact, she was born here."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

Guinevere leaned back with a sly smile. "You do know about the red light area on the fifty-second floor."

I nodded. "Yeah. I and Iris are banned from entering."

Gawain raised his eyebrows, interested. "Banned?"

"Iris was quite horny for a thirteen-year-old," I began, trying to keep a straight face. "So a late friend of ours asked the Commander to ban her."

"This being the Commander, he banned Iris and then later me from entering the red light area until the end of our sentences."

Guinevere nodded, chuckling softly. "Yeah. That sounds like something Kay would do."

She continued, her tone growing more serious. "Anyway, many Deathwalkers go to the red light area to have passionate lovemaking without Minerva breathing down their necks."

"Some of these result in pregnancies," she said, her expression growing sombre. "Sadly, the Shield isn't an ideal environment to raise a child. Many of these pregnancies end in abortions."

Her eyes reflected deep sadness, yet within that pain-filled gaze, I noticed a glint of hope.

"But there are exceptions," she added. "There are Deathwalkers who are prepared to raise children, and they bring new life into the cold confines of the Shield."

Guinevere sighed heavily. "The tragic thing is, being a Deathwalker is quite incompatible with living. Many of these parents die on the battlefield, leaving their children as orphans in the Shield."

I guessed, "So they are called Shield Orphans?"

She nodded. "Yes. Being the children of Deathwalkers, many of them are unwanted, even by the families of their parents. Only a few are taken in and adopted."

"Then there are those who are born to Deathwalkers, who themselves were once orphans," she continued. "Many Shield Orphans find their homes in Necropolis, raised by Crafters, Healers, business owners, and even other Deathwalkers."

"Many of them get jobs in Necropolis, and some even take the bloody path of a Deathwalker themselves."

Guinevere looked at me, her gaze steady. "Morgause was a Shield Orphan, born to parents who were both orphans."

"Her father was a normal guy sent here from a prominent orphanage, while her mother was from a long-forgotten ancient lineage."

"A descendant of the Vampire of the Purple Rose," I interjected, recalling what I learned in the library.

Guinevere nodded. "Yes, sadly, Morgause's parents passed away shortly after she was born."

"She was raised by Crafters," a warm smile graced her lips as she continued. "She had a special fondness for Master Lorvar."

I furrowed my brow, surprised. "That old man never breathed a word about Mum."

"Perhaps he thought you might hold resentment towards Morg," Guinevere suggested with a gentle smile. "And besides, he's quite old."

"Bullshit. He can still break every bone in my body with his shoulder smacks," I scoffed.

She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Spoken just like your mother."

"Morg was unique. Even at a very young age, she was fierce, cunning, strong, and ruthless, with quite the confidence and charisma," Guinevere said, her voice filled with awe.

"She was as strong and fierce as a lioness, yet as cunning and lethal as a snake."

"By the age of fifteen, she had surpassed even the Reapers in both notoriety and power. During her life, in the Shield, your mum earned many titles. The White Lioness, The Serpent Wit."

"But the most legendary of them all was..." Guinevere’s eyes twinkled as she spoke, a mix of pride and reverence in her tone.

"The Deathwalker Queen."