Gawain startled slightly at the voice, turning with a hand still resting on Excalibur Galatine’s hilt. His stern expression softened instantly upon recognizing his Master.

"Ah! Forgive me, Master. I did not mean to appear distant—my thoughts were merely… occupied by matters of honor and old wounds best left in the past."

He bowed deeply, golden armor gleaming in the sunlight that seemed to gather around him like loyal servants.

"Though the sun shines bright today—and by its grace my spirit is strengthened—I confess my heart is clouded. Lancelot walks among us once more… as ally? Comrade? I would not doubt your wisdom or Artoria’s decree… yet still, fire rises in my chest when I see him."

I can almost feel Excalibur Galatine hum with anticipation—or is it disapproval?

" But you called me from my brooding. My apologies for being lost in clouds while standing under such glorious light! Tell me, Master—how may I serve? Shall we spar beneath the noon sun until even shadows beg for mercy?"

He flashed a rare but brilliant smile—the kind that could part storm clouds—and adjusted his gloves with practiced elegance.

" After all... nothing settles a knight's soul like battle and breakfast. Have you eaten yet?"