## Chapter 388: The First Round Table Conference
The day after Queen Sophia’s passing.
At 7:07 AM, the Great Cathedral of the Candle Holder in the Red Queen District tolled the funeral bells.
The somber chimes were starkly different from the usual hourly bells. The clappers of the bells were padded with thick leather on both sides, muffling their sound.
The funeral bells rang seventy-nine times consecutively, symbolizing the seventy-nine years of the Queen’s life.
As the seventy-ninth chime faded, Isabel was already seated in the First Seat of the Round Table Hall.
The Round Table Hall was located within the Silver and Tin Hall, specifically in its main hall.
Long, long ago, the original “Round Table” was a place where knights enjoyed feasts before and after battles. At that time, the Knights of the Round Table would dine and chat, discussing matters around the table. As more warriors followed Arthur, feasts were naturally no longer confined to a single table.
But undoubtedly, the knights who dined at the same table as Arthur were the most heroic, loyal, powerful, and esteemed.
They were the “Knights of the Round Table.” Many affairs were jointly discussed and decided by them. Other knights attending the feasts would listen from the side, offering their thoughts if they had any – everyone had the right to speak. However, the final decision rested with the knights seated at the Round Table.
This practice evolved into a tradition of consultation among the Knights of the Round Table for state affairs.
By the time the Silver and Tin Hall was constructed, the earliest Knights of the Round Table had already ascended to the Dream Realm. Their successors naturally had no need to gather for meals.
Despite this, Lancelot, in remembrance of his fallen comrades, transformed the largest central room in the Silver and Tin Hall’s main structure into the Round Table Hall. He placed the original Round Table there, which could accommodate twenty-two people.
Besides the twenty Founders, there was also Lancelot himself, and the Silver Crown Dragon, whose existence was erased from history. This number coincidentally matched the total number of cards in the Major Arcana of the Tarot.
Later, as more knights became eligible to enter the Round Table Hall, and the state affairs facing Avalon after its founding grew increasingly complex, the initial twenty individuals were no longer sufficient.
However, the Round Table, being an antique, could not be expanded indefinitely.
Thus, while the families of the Founders could sit at the Round Table, other knights would gather around its sides and in front, with three tiers of seating at varying heights, resembling a tiered lecture hall.
In essence, the majority of knights and ministers attending meetings in the Round Table Hall did not actually qualify to sit at the Round Table itself.
In Avalon, where “Authority” was paramount, proximity to the Round Table became a symbol of a knight’s status and influence. The closer one was to the Round Table, the higher their status. Internally, this was divided into three ranks: the “Inner Ring,” “Middle Ring,” and “Outer Ring.”
Meetings in the Round Table Hall were frequent. At the slowest pace, there were two or three meetings a month, and at the fastest, more than five times a week. However, less than half of the Founders’ families generally attended each meeting, and the Inner Ring always had significant gaps. In contrast, the knights of the Outer Ring were always fully seated.
Today’s Round Table Hall was different from usual.
No knights arrived early. Instead, they lined up outside the entrance.
Only after the funeral bells finished tolling were they summoned and entered sequentially through the main doors.
The order of entry was decided by Isabel – though, in reality, it was written by Eivass.
Upon entering through the main doors, they first had to cross a long flight of glass stairs.
This was one of the reasons this area was called the “Glass Island” – glass was abundant here. The glass staircase was an early royal ritual in Avalon. Because glass was slippery and fragile, knights in heavy armor who fell could shatter the stairs.
This forced the knights to proceed cautiously and slowly, demonstrating their loyalty and reverence to the royal family and the Round Table Hall.
After entering, they did not immediately take their seats. Instead, they first approached Isabel’s right side, knelt on one knee, swore allegiance, and then kissed the Silver Dragon Ring on Isabel’s hand. However, as Isabel was not yet married, the proper etiquette was to kiss her thumb, which was placed on the ring.
The first to enter was Lixia, Deputy Director of the Arbitration Department and the Grand Arbitrator. The second was the Grand Guardian, head of the Round Table Hall knights and concurrently Minister of Military and Civil Affairs. The third was Shafiya, Deputy Director of the Inspection Department and the Grand Judge. The fourth was the aging Grand Judge.
Only then, as the fifth person, did the Minister of Camelot, the Privy Council Minister, enter.
He was a white-haired old man with green eyes, appearing to be at least sixty or seventy years old. Yet, he still wore gleaming silver full armor, even wearing gauntlets. He carried no sword, though he had the authority to do so. He only bore the shield inherited from his ancestor Galahad on his back, signifying his determination to defend Avalon with his life.
But as the Minister of Camelot entered, he was surprised.
He was surprised that he was only the fifth to enter, but also surprised that he was among the first five.
The Privy Council Minister was essentially equivalent to the Prime Minister of Star Antinomy or the Minister of State of Iris Flower, serving as the chief advisor to the King or Queen and handling crucial state affairs. He was considered Avalon’s most important and highest-ranking minister.
When Queen Sophia ascended to the throne sixty years ago, the second to swear allegiance was the Privy Council Minister. Of course, the Privy Council Minister of that generation was not him.
However, the Minister of Camelot considered himself loyal to Queen Sophia and an absolute confidant of hers – which was why Queen Sophia had appointed him as Privy Council Minister. The Camelot family was a collateral branch of the Du Lac family, and their ancestors were also descendants of Lancelot I, meaning they were related.
Five years prior, Queen Sophia had even secretly instructed him… should the Du Lac family perish due to the curse or leave no heirs, the Camelot family could adopt one of their children into the Du Lac family and establish them as the new king.
However, when Queen Sophia passed away last night and the Silver and Tin Hall did not urgently summon him… the Minister of Camelot had already developed a premonition.
It was only upon seeing the newspaper this morning that he completely gave up hope.
Undoubtedly, he was not among the individuals Isabel considered trustworthy.
This was, in fact, quite reasonable.
Objectively speaking, the bloodline of the Camelot family posed a threat to Isabel, who did not have an affinity for the Path of Authority. Even if Old Camelot remained loyal to Queen Isabel, his descendants might not maintain the same familial loyalty.
That being said… Old Camelot had watched Isabel grow up, and he felt a twinge of sadness at Isabel’s wariness.
What surprised the Minister of Camelot was that the young minister, deeply trusted by Queen Isabel, did not enter the Round Table Hall first.
Indeed, even as most knights were entering, there was no sign of Minister Moriarty.
Perhaps he was late?
This was the initial thought of the knights.
But after all the knights had entered, that seat at the Round Table remained empty.
For the first Round Table Conference after the succession of the new King, only one person was absent.
The knights murmured amongst themselves about this unusual scene – some felt fortunate, some gloated, and others felt uneasy about this irregularity.
In the rule-abiding Avalon, “irregularity” was the most unsettling abnormality.
Finally, amidst the increasingly noisy discussions, Queen Isabel rang the bell beside her. The knights rose in unison, their armor clanking. Those who were conversing did not fall silent completely; the general din in the Round Table Hall merely subsided, yet it persisted and even became more grating.
It was only when the Grand Guardian cleared his throat, his authority radiating through the hall, that the Round Table Hall finally fell silent.
“The meeting will now commence.”
Following Eivass’s instructions, Isabel declared with a stern, icy expression, “All ministers, be seated as arranged.”
As Isabel finished speaking, two ceremonial officers guarding the entrance to the Round Table Hall struck the now-closed main doors with their dragon-head scepters in sequence.
“Praise the Silver Crown Dragon!”
“Praise Queen Isabel!”
They proclaimed loudly.
With the first strike, a silver-black “X” appeared on the heavy, imposing door. It then glowed, sealing the door completely. The second strike hit the center of the “X,” triggering a larger, shield-like cross superimposed upon the “X.”
A silver barrier immediately expanded, enveloping the entire Round Table Hall. It dispelled all powers within the hall except for Authority, purified the spirits and minds of everyone present, dispersed any spells that could cause charm, suggestion, or similar effects, and completely blocked teleportation, eavesdropping, and scrying spells, while also preventing external attacks.
Then, all the knights present spoke in unison: “Praise the Silver Crown Dragon! Praise Queen Isabel!”
Subsequently, all the knights sat down simultaneously. The heavy armor descended in unison, producing a sharp sound like thousands of cavalry halting at once.
Isabel subconsciously pursed her lips, feeling nervous at the spectacular sight before her.
But she remembered Eivass’s admonitions.
She even viewed this as a test—
Although she had Eivass to rely on, and elders like Lixia to depend on, she was, after all, the Queen of Avalon, and almost the sole heir of the Du Lac family.
Apart from her two-year-old brother, John, and her biological father, Prince Albert, who had fled the royal family and the curse long ago, Isabel had no other relatives.
She had to be strong.
Perhaps Eivass could help her, but he couldn’t help her forever—Eivass did not possess the characteristics of the Path of Authority, meaning rule and power held no benefit for him. Eivass would eventually ascend to higher realms, and Avalon would only become a burden to him then.
Even if she couldn’t help, she absolutely couldn’t become a burden.
This had been Isabel’s guiding principle from the beginning.
It was with this principle that she faced the bizarre curse, and it was with this principle that she repeatedly committed suicide in her nightmares.
“Your Majesty.”
Minister Camelot stood up first and respectfully said, “Everyone is present. Please review this.”
He then respectfully handed a bag containing documents to the Grand Judge. After the Grand Judge opened and inspected it, confirming everything was in order, he stepped forward and presented it to Isabel.
These were the policy outlines for the current and upcoming years, drafted by the Privy Council Minister.
They had been completed while Queen Sophia was still lucid, and submitted to her for review and signature. Since a new monarch generally had little knowledge of various state affairs upon their succession, acting on intuition or ministerial advice at this time could lead to irreparable mistakes for years or even decades to come.
Therefore, the policy outlines for the first two years of the reign were determined by the former monarch.
Isabel, of course, knew this.
However, as she took the documents, she spoke in a cold and stern tone, “Not all of them, Minister Camelot.
“There is one knight I trust who has not arrived. His presence is of utmost importance.”
“…Has he sworn allegiance to you?”
Minister Camelot asked.
Upon hearing this, Isabel’s lips curved into a slight smile, but she quickly flattened them.
Even when she maintained a stern face and lowered her voice, the joy in her tone could not be completely concealed: “Yes, last night. Minister Moriarty swore allegiance to me. And I have bestowed upon him the title of Knight.
“He is not attending this first Round Table Conference, presided over by me, due to feeling unwell. However, this has my permission.”
Isabel spoke very clearly and slowly. This was to avoid speaking incorrectly or accidentally stammering, which would undermine her authority.
She had rehearsed these words in front of a mirror beforehand. She had spoken everything she might say several times, and with Eivass’s help, she had found the most measured, coldest, and sternest tone.
She would do her best to maintain every word with this tone.
To achieve this, she had not slept all night.
Seeing that the other knights remained silent, Isabel lowered her head and began reading the documents.
Most of it consisted of maintaining the status quo; only a few points of change were worth discussing.
After Isabel finished reading the policy outlines, she handed the documents to the Grand Judge for archiving.
The first to speak was the Grand Guardian, the Minister of Military and Civil Affairs.
“Your Majesty,” he asked respectfully, “you propose a 5% increase in military expenditure and a round of conscription for all youths over twenty-six… does this mean we are preparing for war?”
“Yes.”
Isabel replied calmly.
As these words fell, the entire Round Table Hall erupted into chatter.
“Silence!”
The Grand Guardian, as the Knight Commander, immediately raised his voice, and invisible ripples spread, bringing the Round Table Hall back to silence.
“I have no further questions.”
He nodded respectfully and sat down.
Following this, the newly appointed Trade Minister nervously and uneasily stood up: “Your Majesty, who are we to guard against? Star Antinomy or Iris Flower? What is the probability of war? How long is it expected to last?”
“—Lord Griffith, these are not questions you should be asking.”
Isabel replied calmly, her attitude very firm, almost hostile.
She constantly remembered Eivass’s words: for the ministers she could trust, she should first nod to whatever they said and answer their questions directly; for those whose stance was uncertain, who questioned her, or who deliberately posed difficult problems, she should deflect the topic first, acting with firmness, and even showing a hint of hostility was acceptable.
Then, she would report back to Eivass on how they reacted to these deflected topics.
She might not understand politics, but Isabel certainly understood acting.
If she didn’t yet know how to be a qualified queen, she could at least “play” the part of a queen.
Trade Minister Griffith noticed Isabel’s gaze and was greatly startled.
What a cold stare it was—it felt like a warning, an undeniable light of authority. It was as if she was facing not the art student Isabel, but her grandmother, Sophia.
No, her attitude was even stronger than Sophia’s!
Her emerald green eyes held the majesty of a lion.
The Trade Minister immediately felt guilty… Although this matter did have something to do with him, under that gaze, he felt as if his inner thoughts were being laid bare.
Coupled with the Grand Guardian watching him with narrowed eyes, and the Naval Minister having been arrested recently, and the Maritime Minister executed the day before yesterday… he broke out in a sweat. He swallowed back the words he had prepared and the proposals he had drafted in his mind.
Could she truly have no talent for the Path of Authority?
This thought crossed the Trade Minister’s mind. He then grudgingly apologized and sat down.
A brief silence fell over the Round Table Hall.
Afterward, Minister of Palace Affairs Mycroft Hermes slowly stood up and asked, “Your Majesty, will the Silver and Tin Hall be recruiting new Palace Staff?”
“Lord Hermes, this matter is yours to decide.” Isabel replied without hesitation.
Following this, other ministers also spoke. Suspending their initial disdain and provocative thoughts, they proceeded to ask about pressing matters.
“Your Majesty, Queen Sophia had previously promised to allocate funds to the Ministry of Agriculture…”
“I will consider it.”
“Respected Her Majesty, the list of scholars for overseas study proposed by the Church requires your final confirmation.”
“Set it aside for now, I will review it later.”
“Your Majesty, it’s like this… the Gryphons in the Gryphon Division are severely insufficient. We haven’t been able to provide Gryphons to frontline inspectors on time for a long while… what do you think…”
“There should be enough Gryphons; figure it out yourself.”
Remembering all of Eivass’s requests, Isabel handled state affairs systematically, performing the role of a stern queen with authority and meticulous consideration.
In the first Round Table Conference presided over by the Queen, the primary focus was to set the main policies for the coming period, with no proposals requiring a vote from the knights.
As Isabel gradually settled into her role, her gaze becoming sharper, those old knights with ulterior motives exchanged glances, their faces showing peculiar expressions.
Finally, the first Round Table Conference concluded in an unusually harmonious and peaceful atmosphere.
“Gentlemen, the Silver Crown Dragon watches over Avalon.”
The young Queen’s calm closing remarks sounded like a threat.
None of the difficulties Isabel had envisioned occurred—but she did not relax here. Instead, she calmly closed her eyes, holding her scepter, and rested her eyes, waiting for the knights to leave.
In reality, she was rapidly recalling the content of the meeting and the attitudes of all the ministers. She would then have to recount them to Eivass, and any memory error could be fatal.
As the knights exchanged glances, seeming to want to say something but hesitant to do so here…
Only Minister Mycroft Hermes, a plump figure in the corner, unnoticed, seemed to see through something. With his hands tucked into his sleeves, the corners of his mouth curled into a slight smile.
I’m feeling a bit unwell today, this is a combined chapter.
