Blue-Eyes White Dragon: Adopted by the King of Knights [46]

Camelot.

In this kingdom built upon the ideals of noble knighthood, Morgan was a clear outlier.

“Conspiracy.”

That was the word she most often had on her lips.

As a Red Dragon Princess of noble birth—who had seen her homeland fall and tasted the bitterness of war—Morgan had long since learned to assume the worst in people.

Her default reaction to meeting someone new was to deem them an evildoer, and then analyze what sort of scheme that evildoer was plotting, and how it might harm her side.

—Without a doubt, it was a dangerous mindset. One that had already caused serious consequences for both herself and those around her.

It was also why, despite her beauty and the prestige of being “daughter of King Uther” and “older sister to King Arthur,” most of the kingdom’s knights kept their distance from her. Few dared to approach her casually.

Morgan didn’t mind. She wasn’t fond of interacting with people anyway.

She claimed a remote palace for herself and rarely left—except when managing the duties Artoria had entrusted to her.

But today was an exception.

She had just extracted a crucial piece of information from a captured Saxon prisoner, and for that… she had to leave her sanctuary.

…

Morgan made her way to Artoria’s royal chambers.

Artoria herself had never liked living in this lavish castle. She preferred the modest little wooden house she had before—it was small, efficient, good for paperwork, and close enough to the village that she could step outside and talk to the people.

But Merlin had convinced her otherwise.

He’d argued that “a king must possess kingly dignity,” and “the people take pride in their ruler’s greatness.” On that basis, he’d moved her into this castle and declared it Camelot’s temporary royal palace.

In the grand meeting hall stood a massive round table, large enough to seat over a hundred knights. It was a gift from Guinevere’s father—accompanied, of course, by Princess Guinevere herself, who had since become a close friend of Artoria’s.

On a side note: that graceful and clever princess held immense popularity among the knights—far more than Morgan, despite both being royal women.

Knock knock.

Morgan stood outside the meeting room and rapped on the door.

“Come in—”

Artoria responded instinctively, her head still buried in the mountain of paperwork on her desk.

Knock knock.

The door remained shut. The knocking didn’t stop.

“Ah—it's Sister Morgan!”

Realizing the situation, Artoria quickly got up and rushed to the door.

Morgan never entered this meeting hall.

She’d said it herself—she hated these “noisy places.” Even though right now, the only one inside was Bedivere, quietly assisting Artoria with state affairs.

Guinevere also rarely stepped into this room. But her reason was different: “This is a sacred space for knights. Even as a princess, I must not intrude.”

And there it was—one more reason why knights adored Guinevere… and kept their distance from Morgan.

“What’s the matter, Sister?”

Artoria asked seriously.

She knew Morgan wouldn’t have come unless it was something important. For someone this reclusive and socially anxious, leaving her palace meant something had happened.

“Mm.”

Morgan nodded, her expression grave. She handed over a report, extracted during the interrogation of a Saxon prisoner:

[At the beginning of last year, the Lesser King Vortigen issued a royal decree forbidding all Saxons under his command from pushing westward into Celtic territory.]

[Any violation of this order would be punished by execution.]

“...What?”

…

It was a baffling piece of intelligence.

At first glance, it looked like the so-called Lesser King had been intimidated by Artoria’s growing strength. It seemed like he was trying to use the narrow plains between the Cambrian Mountains and Cornwall as a natural boundary—dividing Britain into two spheres of control, one for the Celts and one for the Saxons. A continuation of this so-called “dual kingship” across the island.

But the more you thought about it, the less it made sense.

The beginning of last year—at that time, the “War of Ten Kings” hadn’t even begun. Artoria and her people were still huddled in some remote mountain valley, choking down black bread barely fit to eat.

And recent Saxon movements didn’t seem to align with the decree either.

Scout reports indicated the Saxons—who had been quiet for nearly a decade—were suddenly stirring again. They’d resumed their incursions along the borders of Celtic kingdoms, raiding frontier villages with small squads of around a hundred men.

To counter these incursions, Artoria had already dispatched her sworn brother with a hundred elite cavalry, specifically trained to hunt down Saxon raiders.

—Her sworn brother, by the way, was a master at hunting in the woods. Sending him back to the forests was like returning him to his element.

“But every sign we’ve seen contradicts this so-called ‘White Dragon King’s decree.’”

“What do you think?”

Morgan handed the question to Artoria.

The answer was obvious.

“Either Vortigen is deliberately misleading us, creating a smokescreen.”

“But… that doesn’t seem likely. There are far more efficient ways to set traps—this is a lot of effort for little reward.”

Conspiracies still had to follow a cost-benefit ratio. No one wasted resources on traps that offered no return. If this were a ruse, it wouldn’t hurt Artoria’s side at all—in fact, the one losing territory and morale would be Vortigen himself.

“That only leaves one other possibility.”

“For some unknown reason… the Lesser King genuinely wants peace.”

“But he no longer has the strength to rein in his subordinates’ ambitions.”

Morgan mused aloud.

Then she looked up again—and the calculating gleam in her eyes, always swirling with suspicion, now shimmered like a predator catching scent of prey.

“He’s weak.”

“I don’t know why, but Vortigen must be weakened—seriously weakened.”

“Lily, there may be risks involved… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

“We have to figure out what’s going on over there. And then—”

She paused.

The flames of vengeance were already burning in her gaze.

“Strike while he’s down—and kill him.”

---

T/N: ITS A TRAP

This is a fan translation of 综漫：青眼幼龙，被骑士王捡到了 by 歌冰丽月. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!