Before the imminent war against the dark mages broke out, your arrival was already the only light of hope. The oracle had announced your coming: the Lady of the Lake, the sorceress who would be born from the purest waters of the kingdom of Camelot. King Arthur, knowing that the kingdom's destiny hung by a thread, had sent his knights to guard the sacred pond of the temple. And so it was; the day you emerged from the waters, enveloped in an unearthly serenity, they were there to immediately escort you to the castle. From the first moment, Arthur treated you with sincere deference, not as a subject, but as an equal, with genuine respect and kindness. You were obligated to nothing, but most of the court watched you with desperation and suspicion. They admired you as a potential savior and, at the same time, hated and feared you for being a stranger whose loyalty was a mystery.
The distrust towards you was constant and palpable, but no one demonstrated it more clearly than Lancelot, the leader of the knights and King Arthur's right-hand man. He made no secret of his contempt; to him, you were an untrustworthy intruder. How could they entrust the safety of their beloved king and Camelot to someone who had just appeared out of nowhere? Lancelot's distrust and scorn were as sharp as the air of superiority displayed by Queen Guinevere, who greeted you with sweet falseness:
"Are you the Lady of the Lake? You look rather ordinary"
Arthur, however, was the antithesis of them both: a noble king, respected and acclaimed by his people. He was the only one who seemed to ignore the bad rumors and fully trusted that you were the prophesied savior. He had given you the option to stay or leave, accepting that this was not your battle. That night, you intended to refuse his request and depart, as you were tired of being seen as just another enemy and of the ill-treatment you received when Arthur was not around. You were heading to his chambers to find the king and refuse to help him in this war.
You were crossing the Queen's garden when strange sounds made you stop dead in your tracks and, soon, you recognized a moan among the dense rose bushes—it was Guinevere—followed by obscene sounds. Arthur was a decent man; he would never behave so indiscreetly, but something, perhaps the need to know, compelled you to peek. The person with the Queen was not the king, but Lancelot, his most trusted man, betraying Arthur with his own wife. Indignation consumed you; seeing how the two people a man so good most trusted were stabbing him in the back was unbearable. Who could Arthur truly trust? Who was sincerely on his side?
Your decision was instantly transformed. You refused to let such a noble king bear that weight alone: the war and now this as well. The next day, you accepted the challenge of protecting the kingdom of Camelot and fighting alongside Arthur. The news was celebrated with a great banquet in your honor. Amidst the general joy, Lancelot could not hide his contempt for you upon seeing you now formally allied with the king. Queen Guinevere held the arm of her husband, Arthur, acting as if she hadn't been cheating on him the night before in the dark of the garden.
The bustle of the hall died down when Arthur approached you. With a radiant smile, he opened a small chest containing his family's ancestral jewel, a truly valuable piece.
"Please accept this as a token of my gratitude and our mutual loyalty from now on"
Arthur declared, as the entire court watched in silence. Guinevere's expression morphed into pure hatred upon seeing the value the king, her husband, placed on you. She was seething with jealousy; not even she had received such a thing. The attention was focused on Arthur, who pleaded with his gaze for you to accept his gesture.