A Villainess pulled out the Sword instead of the Hero.

 

Everyone swallowed their admiration as they looked at the moonwort, which seemed to bask in the moonlight.

 

Given the circumstances, they were speechless at the beauty of the scene.

 

With a flick, Guinevere untied the strings of her necklace and held it up like a lantern, leaving a trail of glowing silver wherever the light caught it.

 

Morgana followed the trail and opened the door, and the knights calmed the maid, warning her to step back from the room.

 “Come this way, please.” 

Following her lead, Lancelot turned to the other knights.

 “Stand by.” “Yes, sir.” 

Quickly, Guinevere entered the room, holding her moonwort as she shone the light throughout the room, searching for traces.

 “You bastard, where did he go…” 

Guinevere’s voice, raspy through gritted teeth, merged with the moonlight, and it was frightening.

 

Anyone caught would be killed, at the very least.

 

Her eyes glittered with a keenness to catch the culprit.

 

As soon as I entered the room, the footprints on the floor glowed in the moonlight.

 

The footprints wandered to where the clock had hung, but soon stopped in front of the dressing table.

 

‘They must have checked to see if they could take the vanity mirror.’

 

The next stop was the dressing room.

 

‘Why is there no hesitation in his stride…?’

 

A quick glance revealed that he had lifted his back foot, so only the front footprint remained.

 

The fact that all the footprints were clearly visible meant that there was no sense in being careful in the first place.

 

Bold, but too daring.

 

Outlandish. Before she knew it, Guinevere was in her dressing room and in front of the mirror, she was horrified to see so many footprints.

 “What the hell, did someone just break into my room to steal a mirror?” 

In addition to the footprints, there were blunt marks all over the otherwise pristine mirror.

 

Morgana shrugged, rolled up her sleeves, and stepped forward.

 “I don’t think he meant to steal it.” 

She matched the footsteps, one foot in front of her, one behind her, at shoulder width.

 

If I were to clench my fists, I’d be in a fighting stance.

 “Because I got the tapestry from the apothecary with Moonwort?” 

Morgana didn’t finish her sentence, but instead drew her right arm straight back and flicked it forward.

 

As soon as her fist made contact, there was a thud and a vibration around the mirror.

 

She didn’t exert much force, but the echo was loud enough to make her stomach turn.

 

‘If it could be heard all the way to the maids’ quarters, it must have been a much stronger blow.’

 

Guinevere and Lancelot, both clueless, came to her at the same time.

 “Morgana, are you all right?” “Miss Morgana, your hand…” 

Guinevere’s eyes grew fierce as the words overlapped.

 

Raising her head haughtily, she pouted proudly.

 “I spoke first, Sir Lancelot.” “And you said it out of concern?” “Very funny. Why should Sir Lancelot be worried about my maid? He should probably go catch the pervert.” 

Well, she wasn’t even hurt in the first place. She flung her arm around Morgana’s arm, wary.

 

Quickly hiding her hand in her, Morgana turned to face the crowd of onlookers and added innocently.

 “Oh, by the way, I think the tapestry protected the mirror from breaking!” “Moonwort and all that weird stuff. Was the tapestry woven with some legendary herb, too?” 

Guinevere mumbled curiously as she clung to Morgana’s arm.

 

‘They’re actually magic tools, but we need to be quiet.’ 

 

Instead of feigning ignorance, she knitted her eyebrows together and closed her fists.

 

She scowled at Lancelot with a painfully arrogant scowl.

 “I thought my fist would turn to dust. If he hit it hard enough for us to hear, it must have hurt his hand badly, too.” 

The sound was nothing compared to when she’d hit the mirror.

 

The culprit’s hands must have taken the brunt of the impact.

 

Guinevere held the moonwort in front of her and held it out to Lancelot. Now it was up to him to follow.

 “Morgana says so. Now, take those incompetent guards away.” 

Taking a deep breath, Lancelot accepted the necklace and directed his knights out the open door.

 “Follow the footprints Moonwort points out.” “Yes sir!” 

He stared at the knights as they dispersed in unison, then turned and smiled at Morgana.

 “We’ll talk later, Miss Morgana. We have an arrangement, don’t we?” 

With those words, Lancelot placed his hand on his chest and bowed in courtesy.

 

It was the most formal, proper knightly greeting he had ever given.

 

Then, without hesitation, Lancelot walked away.

 

The flask of moonwort dangling from his hand gave off light as a guide, but Lancelot knew where he was going.

 

The footsteps pointed in a familiar direction.

 “Let’s go to the court gallery. I must go myself.” 

He led his knights to the gallery, where the fire was still burning.

 

Lancelot nodded to the knights waiting for the signal.

 

With a bang, the waiting knights swooped in.

 

Launched at Galehaut, he offered no resistance, no denial of guilt. He merely stared at the blood dripping from his uninjured hand.

 

Quickly, Lancelot approached him and roughly removed the brooch from his neck.

 

His hand, which had seemed unharmed, was now covered in blood, as if he had been punching frequently.

 

Lancelot’s grim voice filled the gallery, his smile gone.

 “Galehaut Gallio. You are hereby hauled before me for the crime of using a weapon forbidden in Britain, and for breaking into the chamber of Princess Guinevere and stealing her belongings.”  

In the early afternoon, Morgana was the first to visit Lancelot and exclaimed proudly.

 “I’m the first to discover it, and I’m the one who gave you the crucial clue, so please let me into the interrogation room!” “Yes, by all means, if you wish, but…” 

She trailed off as he smirked, his gaze darting behind her.

 “How can you live in such a shabby place…?” “That’s just the way it is!” 

Morgana replied, smiling innocently. 

 

Behind her, Guinevere stood proudly, arms crossed like a protector.

 

A colorful, sassy dress and glittering jewelry that seemed out of place in an interrogation room.

 

Black silk gloves that came to her elbows and a fan made of peacock feathers.

 

One look at her, and you could tell she had a strong will to live up to.

 

Morgana somehow seemed diminutive in comparison.

 

It was something he hadn’t seen since she’d taken over.

 

Guinevere pointed her fan at Lancelot and replied arrogantly,

“If you’re taking Morgana, take me, too. I’ll keep an eye on things.” “Who are you keeping an eye on, surely not me?” “You, of course, Sir Lancelot, who else could it be?” 

Guinevere snorted in disbelief.

 

Scanning Lancelot up and down, she frowned at his arrogance.

 “My Morgana is so naïve that she has fallen for Sir Lancelot based on his face alone, and I will not allow it.” “What?” 

Morgana’s head snapped back toward Guinevere at the unexpected comment.

 

When their eyes met, she wrapped her arms around Morgana’s shoulders and spoke firmly.

 “I’ve heard it all. Forget about that incompetent bastard who can’t even keep track of his place.” 

Apparently, the story of when she’d used the painting as an excuse to pull him away from Galehaut had gotten out of hand.

 

Morgana shook her head, choking up.

 “It wasn’t like that! I was simply asking him about the location of Alec’s paintings, in the purest, yes, passionate sense of curiosity!” 

We had other conversations, of course, but she wasn’t entirely wrong.

 

Before she could finish, Lancelot pulled a piece of paper from his arm and handed it to her.

 “Ah, I’ve written down the location for you.” 

Guinevere clicked her tongue as if to say it out loud, seeing that he was kinder than ever.

 “Tsk, look at that. He’s flirting with anyone who’ll listen.” “That’s a little unfair, your highness. I’m not trying to charm anyone, I was just born pretty.” “Not many guys born like you sign autographs and blink an eye as they pass by.” “Don’t you know that good looks are meant to be shared?” “Morgana, did you hear that? That’s what they call a handsome man. I think he’s crazy. Perhaps he’s ill, so let’s retire him from his knighthood and stick him in a corner of the country.” 

Morgana, who had been listening to a fight that no one ever loses, clapped her hands together as if to emphasize the point.

 

Smiling broadly, Morgana asked back in a cheerful voice.

 “So, when do I get to go into the interrogation room?” 

Lancelot, suddenly remembering the purpose of her visit, casually ignored Guinevere’s comment and turned back to her.

 “Why do you need to see the sinner if he’s not in good shape?” “I thought there might be more of them.” 

Knights were guarding Guinevere’s chamber, who hadn’t heard the vibration.

 

Certainly, when they struck the mirror themselves, they could not feel even the pretense of a bang.

 “We should also question the knights who stood in the Princess’s chambers that day, Sir Lancelot.”