The first thing the widows were asked to do was to make a list of things they wanted, so even before they were finished eating, they were already discussing that.
It took most of the day to compile the list. The widows, meticulous and efficient as always, divided the task among themselves, each handling a specific category.
First came the essentials: clothes, medicine, and basic hygiene supplies. The children, though resilient, needed proper shoes and warm coats to withstand the chill of Camelot's early mornings.
Next came tools for their jobs. Camelot, despite its grandeur, lacked much of what the modern world deemed necessary. Advisors requested books on history, politics, and science to bridge the knowledge gap. Those taking up logistical roles asked for ledgers, quills, and materials to establish proper administrative systems.
The list continued to grow, encompassing everything from kitchen equipment for communal meals to toys for the younger girls. Viktoria insisted they include art supplies. "They've been trained to survive, not to dream. Let them paint, draw, and create," she argued, and no one disagreed.
Finally, there were weapons and more high-tech equipment. They realized well enough the roles before them and knew that they needed all kinds of tech to run what was basically the new MI6 of the United Kingdom.
With a mix of modern and old things, quills, ballpoint pens, cute maid outfits, and state-of-the-art combat clothing. The list was detailed and extensive, and they would be happy with just half of it.
But they were asked to list everything they needed or wanted, and so they had put pen to paper and made a list as complete as possible.
By the time the list was complete, it covered everything from the practical to the whimsical. The widows took a step back, inspecting their work with a mix of pride and trepidation. It felt surreal to imagine a future where their needs—both mundane and extraordinary—might actually be met.
"We've done our part," Yelena finally said, rolling up the final sheet. "Now let's see if this so-called king can deliver."
Acting as their representative, Yelena once more entered the castle and climbed the many, many stairs, going up towards the throne room, where Agravain could be found.
Outside the doors, two faceless knights stood guard, they felt soulless, like machines… or those who had nothing left after training, turning into mindless slaves. She had seen many like that back at the Red Room.
"I'm here to see Sir Agravain, with a list he requested." She said, showing off the thick bundle of parchment in her hands.
The knights did nothing, made no movements, and said nothing; they just stood there like two statues, and it creeped her out.
Then just as she was starting to question what she should do, they stepped aside without warning, and the door opened, with Sir Agravain stepping outside.
"You bring the list," he said, his voice as steady as stone. It wasn't a question.
Yelena straightened, holding the bundle of parchment forward. "We've compiled everything—essentials, tools, and supplies. The things we'll need to do the jobs you're expecting of us."
Agravain took the bundle from her with one hand, his gauntlet-clad fingers surprisingly deft as he flipped through the pages. He scanned the contents briefly before nodding. "A very extensive list indeed, and some of these things… I can't even tell what they are."
Yelena crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Agravain's comment. "Not surprising. Half of what we listed probably doesn't exist in Camelot—or in your time, for that matter."
Agravain looked up from the parchment, his gaze sharp but not unkind. "Very well, please enter, but remember to pay your respect, don't speak unless spoken to, keep your head down, and kneel. You aren't a guest anymore, but a subject."
Yelena was about to ask why she should kneel, but clearly, he could guess it and answered before she could even open her mouth to ask.
Even though she wanted to complain, she had been trained well enough to follow orders, so she kept her mouth shut and slowly entered behind him.
Even if she had to kneel and observe some ancient customs, it was still far better than the Red Room, which inflected torture and death left, right, and center.
"Here is the list your Majesty." Agravain said, handing the list to the king.
"Yelena, this list… is quite something." The king finally said after a minute, allowing the kneeling widow to look up.
There, she saw the king, the female King Arthur, and she was shocked all over again. The king was wearing a different armor than last time. The overall design was the same. Yet the difference was clear to all.
This armor left her burst exposed, her thighs, showing off her female assets. After seeing the king, Yelena couldn't believe that anyone could have thought she was a man for even a moment.
(picture here)
People must have been stupid and blind back then.
"Well yes, most of it is things we need, though the last few pages are more wants then needs." She replied, almost shocked the king even knew her name. This woman sure was full of surprises.
"Indeed, I will be removing a few items off the list. Your wish for vehicles was denied, though I will replace it with some motorbikes."
"Father!"
The doors were thrown open, and Sir Mordred entered loudly.
"Sir Mordred! How dare you barge in like that, show some respect to your king!" Sir Agravain was alive with displeasure, even Yelena couldn't help but lower her head for a moment, the feeling the knight gave off was not dissimilar from the trainers at the Red Room. Commanding and stern.
"Oh, come down, Agravain; Father hasn't said anything, so it's fine." Mordred sounded so sure of himself that Agravain paused.
Even Yelena paused, she couldn't believe how cocky the knight of rebellion was. He wasn't wrong, but wasn't that only because he hadn't given the king any time or chance to speak up?
She instantly decided that Mordred was her favourite knight so far.
"Its fine Sir Agravain, you know how Sir Mordred is… this is the best we can expect." The king sighed as she spoke, and for some reason Yelena saw Mordred looking proud.
"Now Sir Mordred, what is so important that you had to burst in like this?"
"Well" Mordred suddenly seemed embarrassed. Scratching the back of his head. "I heard you were about to bring in some new stuff… and I have a list of things I kinda want, so I figure I might add it to the pile."
The king pinched the bridge of her nose, visibly torn between amusement and exasperation. "Sir Mordred, you do realize that this is not a shopping trip?"
Mordred grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Of course, Father. But if you're already bringing in supplies, what's a few more items? I promise they're all important." He shot a glance at Yelena, as if to say Back me up here.
Yelena barely suppressed a smirk, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Don't look at me. I'm new here."
Agravain, still bristling with indignation, stepped forward. "Sir Mordred, this behavior is unbecoming of a knight of Camelot—"
"Relax, Agravain," Mordred interrupted, waving him off. "I'm not asking for anything crazy. Just a few new swords, maybe some training dummies, and, uh..." He hesitated, then mumbled something under his breath.
The king raised an eyebrow. "What was that last part?"
Mordred coughed awkwardly. "Some better clothes… the things I have now… it's not enough, and well…" His voice trailed off, uncharacteristically subdued. He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding the king's gaze.
The king actually facepalmed at that.
"Alright, I will do it, but just this once. Next time, you will bring in things from outside, or you will commission someone to make it for you."
The king's words made Yelena curious, it sounded like this time the items wouldn't come from outside Camelot, but then where did they come from?
"The same goes for you, Yelena. This is a one-time thing, and the last time, next, you will buy these things like normal people." The king said, only making the widow all the more curious.
Yelena's curiosity was practically burning at this point. She couldn't imagine what the king meant by not bringing things from outside Camelot. Where else could supplies possibly come from?
The king stood, her armor gleaming in the throne room's light. With a calm and deliberate motion, she extended her hand forward, palm up. "Very well. This will be the last time I use this for such purposes."
Before Yelena could ask what "this" was, a brilliant light began to gather in the king's hand. It started as a soft glow, then intensified into a radiant sphere. Yelena squinted against the brightness, her instincts screaming at her to move, to do something—but she was frozen in awe.
From the light, an ornate chalice began to materialize, seemingly forming out of nothingness. It was breathtakingly beautiful, gold and encrusted with jewels, each stone glowing faintly with an otherworldly energy. The light from the grail cast shifting patterns across the room, its presence filling the space with an almost divine aura.
"The Holy Grail," Agravain said reverently, bowing his head deeply. Mordred, despite her usual rebellious nature, straightened up, a flicker of respect in her eyes.
Yelena's breath hitched. "That's... that's the Holy Grail?" Her voice wavered, disbelief and awe mingling in equal measure.
The king glanced at her with a faint smile. "Yes. The grail is a relic of immense power, and it has served me well. But it is not to be used lightly. Even for tasks like this."
Yelena blinked, trying to process what she was seeing. The Holy Grail? Not just a myth, but here, glowing in the king's hands, and about to be used to conjure... supplies?
The king spoke, her voice firm and commanding. "By the power of the grail, I wish for the items on this list to manifest for the good of my kingdom."
The chalice glowed brighter, and then, in an instant, the air in the room shifted. The space around the grail shimmered as objects began to materialize one by one: clothes neatly folded, weapons gleaming like they'd just been forged, books stacked high, and even modern items like laptops and motorbikes. The sheer volume of material was overwhelming, yet it appeared effortlessly.
Each item appeared for the briefest of moments before disappearing again, meaning the room never got full of cluttered.
Yelena staggered back a step, her eyes wide. "This... this isn't possible. This shouldn't be possible."
The king lowered the grail, the glow fading until it vanished entirely. Then the grail itself faded away in the same way as it had appeared. "It is not about what is possible, Yelena, but what is necessary. The grail has the power to grant wishes, but such power must be wielded sparingly."
Mordred, eager to go see the stuff, quickly stepped back. "Well, I will go check my new stuff out." He said, leaving without another word.
Yelena, however, couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene. "You have a relic that can... do this? And you're just sitting on it?"
The king's expression turned serious. "The grail is not a solution for all problems, nor should it be treated as one."
Yelena couldn't believe it, the holy grail, an object that seemed to have the ability to fulfill wishes, and here it was used to wish for supplies, mere trinkets, she couldn't believe, she really couldn't.
If she had that… what would she use it for? With it, she could restore her body, the womb of every widow, she could help so many people.
Uncaring or unknowing of the storm within Yelena's mind, the king spoke up. "Sir Agravain, take Yelena to the store house near the barracks they slept in, the items should be there.
Even as she stood in the massive and now very full Storehouse, she still couldn't believe what had happened, what she had seen, learned.
(End of Chapter)
Alright, more stuff, free stuff. the Grail really is a cheat, though it isn't without limits, I will be explaining those later one, but for now, I will leave it vague.