Chapter Eight: Past and Present Lives

In the end, encouraged by King Uther, Morgana accepted Kay’s gifts, but she immediately became overwhelmed by the gazes of others and shyly retreated to her room. Seeing Morgana’s delicate demeanor, King Uther showed a satisfied smile of quiet consolation.

Everyone who had been around long enough knew Morgana’s affection for Kay. Now, with Kay presenting such precious gifts to her in front of so many, the meaning was clear to all.

King Uther was even more pleased. Though Morgana was publicly acknowledged as his adopted daughter, she was in fact his biological child! Only three people in the entire kingdom knew this: Uther himself, the royal apothecary Gaius, and Kay.

This secret was tied to a series of tangled, dramatic events that Uther wished to keep hidden. Gaius knew because he was Uther’s close friend, and Kay had learned the truth by accident.

For Uther, there was always a lingering guilt toward Morgana. He wished for her to live a good life.

Marrying Kay was undoubtedly the best choice. Though Kay was somewhat naive, Uther had to admit he was the finest young man he had ever known. More importantly, Kay was well known to him.

Kay had grown up by his side, spending more time with Uther than his own biological father had.

Uther understood Kay deeply and was certain Kay could bring happiness to Morgana.

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The banquet ended amid astonishment and cheers, a day that would be vividly remembered in Camelot’s history. The events of today would be eagerly recounted time and again by all.

Yet, despite the guests’ joy, Kay’s mood was far from bright.

He stood alone on the high terrace of the royal castle, quietly watching the city’s lights fade. An unprecedented sense of loss washed over him.

Kay harbored a secret—one unknown to anyone.

He was a traveler from another world.

His original name no longer mattered, especially after the path back home was forever severed. In his previous life, he had been a police officer, a soldier. Though not a military star, he was an excellent and devoted soldier.

...

Later, for various reasons, he was forced to retire and transferred careers, becoming a detective in his hometown. His experience as a scout made his police career fairly successful. Though he never caught serial killers or brilliant masterminds—after all, his city was only a third-tier town without such thrilling cases—he solved many crimes and arrested numerous suspects, priding himself on living up to the badge he bore.

His crossing over was unremarkable; during a raid, he died in action. His only comfort was that he alone perished, sparing his comrades. Although not an orphan, his parents had long passed, and he had no wife or children. Though he had a few girlfriends, work often caused their relationships to end.

A solitary figure with nothing to mourn. His colleagues were different—many were young or had families. And since he had been leading the raid, he could not bear the thought that his mistakes might have cost others.

In short, upon awakening, he found himself reborn as a baby in Camelot. His birth parents loved him, and leaving him in Camelot was no melodramatic plot but simply the rule of nobility.

Kay was the youngest son, the third child, with no inheritance rights. The family’s wealth could not support three children beyond a certain point. This was not about lacking food or shelter—his noble lineage guaranteed that—but about the responsibilities and resources after coming of age.

The eldest brother was the legitimate heir, inheriting the family lands. The second brother, though older, had no inheritance but was provided for with a small estate from their mother’s dowry and a minor fiefdom, enough to become a knight loyal to the family.

But Kay’s position was more complicated. Their family, though ancient, was not among the great nobility. Fragmenting the estate further threatened the family’s survival.

This dilemma faced all minor nobles: with many children, choices had to be made. Equal treatment was irresponsible to the lineage. A knighthood was no trivial matter.

Knights had to be nobles, that was undisputed. Moreover, they had to be landowners. In this era, people trusted landowners; penniless knights were viewed as unreliable, incompetent, or even scoundrels. The term “wandering knight” was hardly flattering.

And “landowning” meant possessing genuine fiefs—granted by the king or inherited from the family, with no other options.

Royal grants were difficult to obtain, as commoners or landless knights rarely earned the king’s trust, creating a vicious cycle. Thus, inheritance was the norm.

Hence, Kay’s future was uncertain.

Fortunately, his father, Sir Ector, was a close friend of King Uther, having grown up together since childhood. Thanks to this connection, Sir Ector followed the king’s path and sent his third son to serve as a royal attendant.

This was the best route for younger noble sons without inheritance, though it usually required close ties to the royal family.

Because of his father’s influence, Kay grew up in the palace. King Uther, fond of him, treated Kay not as a mere attendant but sincerely as his own child, eventually declaring Kay his adopted son.

Though this decision was partly due to the late king’s fondness for Kay, the famously rigid and stubborn Uther acted from genuine affection.

In that age, adopting a son was no trivial matter. Legally, adopted sons had inheritance rights, albeit lower in priority, making them potential heirs—especially since Uther had no biological children at the time.

Nearly everyone opposed Uther’s decision, including Sir Ector himself.

If Uther remained childless or died suddenly in battle, the royal bloodline would be replaced, a matter of great consequence. Moreover, it was widely known in Camelot that the queen was infertile.

This effectively made Kay the heir.

Those years brought tremendous pressure on the queen and Uther, which only eased after Arthur’s birth.

Thus, Kay grew up peacefully in Camelot.

Being a traveler, his knowledge, experience, and advantages from his previous life made him excel, much to Uther’s pride, who believed adopting Kay had been his wisest choice.

Kay did not disappoint. Upon reaching adulthood, he won the kingdom’s knightly tournament, defeating knights from across the lands and becoming the champion.

Generous as ever, Uther immediately knighted Kay and granted him a fiefdom upon his eighteenth birthday.

However, Kay then made a decision that infuriated Uther: he handed his lands back to the king and set off alone to travel the world.

No one understood this choice; it seemed reckless.

Only Kay knew the truth—he longed to go home.