To say Arthur felt sick was a massive understatement. Things had goneâ€¦smoothly enough so far, all things considered. When he had pulled the sword from the stone, and all the men â€“nobles, no less!- had knelt in front of him, the young man had been startled. He had never thought that the strange woman heâ€™d met in the forest that day five years ago would be right. The weight of a country on his shouldersâ€¦At the moment though he was just worried about Court. He wasnâ€™t sure he was supposed to have this position at all- he may have pulled the sword from the stone, but his parents were more than likely commoners. To have a commoner take up the crownâ€¦it was unthinkable. There was no way the nobility would accept him.<br/><br/>The few men who were at the tournament and had seen him remove the sword would, but the rest? He closed his eyes, trying to find peace. Perhaps he should pray? Somehow, over his pounding heart and sloshing stomach, he picked up the man from the other room, announcing him.<br/>â€œLords and Ladies of the Gentry, please rise and acknowledge your Kingâ€¦â€<br/>Arthur swallowed hard. Here we goâ€¦ the young man thought grimly. â€œPlease, Godâ€¦â€ he whispered, leaving the rest of the prayer unsaid. He knew all, and would certainly know the wish of a new king. He locked his knees as he walked, fearing he might collapse if he did not. He walked past the man  who had announced him, eyes sweeping the crowd of assembled nobles. The only true familiar faces were Sir Ector and Kay. A few others he recognized from various events, and from the tournament, but the others were unknown to him.<br/><br/>Everyone was standing and looking at him. What did they see? A young man in a red doublet, trying not to shake? He needed a regent or something, a counselor. He was only guessing at how to address the Court. Oh, this was going to be a disaster.  He cleared his throat.<br/><br/>â€œPlease be seated.â€ The Lords and Ladies did, still staring at him. A few Ladies whispered to their ladies in waiting, but beyond that, all in the large room was silent. The high cieling caught the sound, but he could still not make out the words.<br/><br/>â€œI am Arthur, the one who pulled the sword from the stoneâ€¦â€<br/><br/>Before he could say anything more, he was interrupted by a man sitting in the middle of the assembled nobility.<br/>â€œJust because you pulled a sword doesnâ€™t mean you have the right to take the throne! Who were your parents, boy!?â€<br/><br/>Arthur grimaced and felt himself grow even paler. He didnâ€™t know who is parents were, and this was just what he had been afraid of.<br/>"I-" he began, the words sticking in his throat. What exactly was he going to say, in any case? That he was a bastard son he did not know his father? Oh, that was going to go over wonderfully!<br/>He would rather face down a bear than these people. A hundred bears. The young man was not sure what kept him standing, but he wanted to leave. There was no way to prove his lineage, and no one save Sir Ector and Kay would support him. And the only reason for that was to get favors.