Ever since a few of the Knights of the Round Table had arrived, Arthur's daily life began to change.
Most days, he could be found in the residential districts—the eight plazas built along the outer wall. He strolled through them like an ordinary man, chatting with the villagers as though they were old friends, while his knights kept a respectful distance, watching quietly like guardians.
"Sir Arthur, yesterday, we..."
"My daughter says she'd like to..."
"Arthur... How about tonight, we…~?"
The conversations never followed a single theme. They ranged from harmless gossip, to small reports about the fields and supplies, and even the occasional half-whispered invitation to join someone in more private affairs.
Yet those days of nightly indulgence were long past. Since the knights had gathered, Arthur's evenings of debauchery had been cut short. At most, one or two lucky women managed to claim his attention each night, but compared to how things used to be, it was almost nothing.
