"They're just a bunch of knights who only know how to chop people. They don't have as many titles as us, nor as many fiefs. Their strength lies only in their military force," Geiger said with a confident smile. "Are they powerful? Maybe enough to beat a few men. But even if they were in our lands, I have a hundred private soldiers here. They'd be crushed like bugs."
That's the difference between a noble and a knight.
Knights abide by the spirit of chivalry. Even if their status, wealth, and forces rival other knights, they wouldn't recklessly bring private soldiers into Camelot.
"Why, didn't you bring your own men? We agreed to teach that brat a lesson together."
"Of course I did," the timid noble whispered.
"Then what's there to fear?" Geiger asked, puzzled.
The timid noble, usually cautious, was unusually hesitant today, acting like a frightened woman.
"Look over there."
Following his gaze, Geiger spotted a group of nobles chatting casually—not much different from themselves.
"What's with them?" Geiger asked, surprised.
"We agreed to force King Arthur's hand in the last meeting. But now, they don't seem interested in talking. Could they have secretly sided with Arthur?"
"Impossible," Geiger scoffed. "If they're still nobles who want status, they wouldn't turn to that kid. He has nothing to offer. Unless Arthur promised them status and advancement? Otherwise, why betray us? Only fools would do that."
That's right!
The new king comes to the throne empty-handed. What can he give the nobles?
Glory?
Nobles care only about real interests, not illusions.
Geiger's words rallied the nobles around him, who nodded in agreement.
Even the timid ones regained confidence.
"Besides, Rome will send an envoy next spring, merchants too. You all should consider that…" Geiger's words abruptly stopped.
He turned sharply.
A blond boy stood at the hall entrance, smiling at him politely.
Soft as sunlight, golden hair shining, eyes twinkling like stars, lips curved in a soothing, friendly smile.
Perfect—too perfect.
Like a dream that only comes once in a lifetime.
Geiger's heart seemed to stop. His vision blurred. The boy was all he could see; even voices faded.
"Is this a dream?" he murmured.
Only in dreams could such a perfect boy appear.
His heart pounded wildly. Excitement flooded his mind.
Get close! Own him! Die for him!
"Mr. Geiger? Mr. Geiger!"
"Ah?"
Geiger snapped back, blinking at the boy calling his name so close.
He swallowed his feelings.
"Mr. Geiger, are you okay?" Arthur asked softly.
"Fine. Of course, fine. Thank you for your concern."
"Good. Please return to your seat. The ceremony is about to begin. Also, is there dirt on my face? If so, tell me. If not, please look away. Otherwise, I'll feel uncomfortable."
Polite on the surface.
Without waiting for a reply, Arthur took Kay's arm and walked slowly toward the throne.
Truth be told, it was improper to bring a personal guard to such an event—Arthur hadn't planned it.
Kay, however, had misunderstood and followed without permission.
"No one can resist the charm of my king."
"Don't be ridiculous, Kay."
"Ha! It's the truth. It's a relief you can keep your temper and talk to that fat pig. Maybe that's why you're so charming."
Kay whispered.
Arthur shrugged: "No, it's called socializing."
"Even if they planned to deal with you and you heard everything?"
"Of course. A wise king won't punish someone just for badmouthing him behind his back. Neither will I."
Arthur smiled. "It's cruel to break his fantasy now. Let him enjoy his illusions while he can. When he cries, I won't have to bear the weight."
Kay blinked.
Arthur's words implied he'd already planned how to handle the nobles.
Kay, recently excluded from Arthur's inner circle, knew nothing.
"I see. A benevolent king makes enemies disappear quietly, or legally. Is that it?"
"You catch on fast, Knight Kay. You have talent. How about sending you to Agravain? He needs manpower. You could get an important role—and maybe succeed him."
"Please spare me, my king. The battlefield suits me better."
While they talked, they reached the throne.
Arthur sat calmly. Kay stood behind, expressionless.
Artoria stepped out from the crowd and took a seat just below Arthur.
Arthur greeted her, then stared blankly as if nothing had happened.
Though he'd been in Camelot a month, he'd rarely ventured out, focusing on intelligence and plans. Most errands fell to Agravin; he avoided noble meetings.
Many nobles didn't know Arthur and were surprised he sat on the throne outright.
They were slow to react.
Ignoring the surprised nobles, the ceremony began.
By British tradition, the succession ceremony—from speeches to crowning—happened in the castle, witnessed by nobles and knights. Common people saw Arthur only once after.
Popularity meant little here.
To Arthur, the ritual didn't matter.
Recognition from nobles and knights was what counted—and that was decided long before the ceremony. Speeches were optional.
Could you expect greedy nobles to serve without gain?
Arthur had long seen their greed.
Artoria couldn't help but wonder, "Arthur, why are you so calm?"