At that moment, there was no shock in their eyes. This made the King of Knights, who had been inwardly anxious since preparing to reveal her secret, feel even more conflicted.
She understood now. Everyone had already seen through her disguise long ago. She regretted only choosing to confide in those present, believing she should have revealed the truth directly to all the knights eligible to attend the Round Table meetings.
"Lia, don't overthink it," Merlin said, his voice calm. "This is the kind of thing you can't reveal to everyone. As long as you don't speak of it, people will only speculate. But if you confirm it publicly, you'll be declaring it to the entire nation.
"There will inevitably be those who resent having a female king, and they'll seize upon this fact to cause trouble.
"If the Holy Church, already our adversaries, fans the flames, things could truly spiral into chaos.
"So, your choice was the right one. You can only confide in those you trust absolutely."
The King of Knights' guilt was genuine, reflecting her noble character. As her companion, Guinevere, who understood her deeply, could discern her thoughts.
Glaring at Merlin while observing the knights' expressions of admiration, Guinevere continued:
"If you still feel guilty about the knights who weren't chosen, remember that this guilt is shared by all of us—me, everyone here, and you."
As she spoke, Guinevere stepped behind the King of Knights, embraced her, and whispered softly in her ear:
"If you don't openly acknowledge this truth, you can dismiss any future accusations as baseless rumors. And if proof is ever needed, I'll allow you to drink Lady Morgan's potion."
After a long pause, the knights nodded in agreement, murmuring affirmations like "That's right." The King of Knights' guilt resurfaced, and with a stern expression, she suppressed her inner turmoil.
She clasped Guinevere's hands, which were wrapped around her, and patted them, saying:
"Guinevere, I entrust this to you."
"Mm-hmm."
Guinevere shot another glare at the still-smiling Merlin, straightened up behind the King of Knights, untied the braids coiled at the back of her head, and neatly arranged her flowing golden locks.
As the cascade of golden strands fell, the King of Knights nervously clenched her fists. It was Kay who whistled first, exclaiming loudly:
"I always said my sister was a great beauty! Marrying Guinevere was a complete bargain for her."
With her hair unbound, revealing her delicate feminine features, Artoria no longer faced the knights as their King.
It wasn't just Kay; every knight present smiled, relieved, and offered Artoria their goodwill in their own ways.
"Now, would you all like to hear a song from me? To celebrate the King of Knights finally being able to be honest with everyone!"
Tristan's song was neither mournful nor sorrowful, but filled with joy and exuberance, stirring Artoria's emotions once more. After the song ended, she rose solemnly, bowed slightly, and sincerely apologized for her past concealment.
"Your Majesty, please don't misunderstand. Our loyalty lies with the true you before us. This loyalty will not waver because of your gender."
From Merlin's sudden revelation to Guinevere's calculated manipulation of the King of Knights' guilt to win hearts, and now, the King of Knights' sincere apology, Agravain was the most susceptible to this narrative.
Just days ago, he had returned from handling affairs in the North. There, preparing for future conquests and governance, he had been forced to restrain his usual methods. This made his work particularly grueling, leaving strands of gray in his hair from the strain.
But when he received the King of Knights' sincerity, trust, apology, and genuine heart, all his weariness and resentment vanished. He immediately knelt on one knee before the maiden-like King of Knights.
Following his lead, the others began to prepare to kneel as well, but fortunately, the King of Knights promptly stopped them, citing the Round Table as her reason. In this semi-private setting, she was unwilling to accept the formal deference of her foster father and foster brother.
Even though the formal kneeling was halted, the knights' attitude had become abundantly clear. At last, the King of Knights could set down the heavy stone weighing on her heart.
"Guinevere, I must trouble you again."
Whether untying or retying her hair, Guinevere moved with practiced ease. Now that the revelation of the King of Knights' true gender had temporarily subsided, Guinevere steered the conversation back to their plans against the Holy Church.
"Then it's settled. We'll start by secretly hiring thugs to spread rumors about the Church. Once the rumors gain traction, we'll find aggrieved parties to file formal complaints. Then I'll step in to escalate the pressure."
Their scheme required meticulous planning and absolute secrecy. After over an hour of detailed discussion, laying out specific strategies and contingencies, Merlin, who had remained silent throughout the entire deliberation, suddenly volunteered to handle the thug recruitment himself. He guaranteed that no one would ever trace his involvement.
"Master Merlin, was this also part of the future you foresaw?" the King of Knights asked.
Guinevere had been about to ask the same question, as she recalled Merlin never intervening in matters beyond the Prophecy.
"Not at all," Merlin replied with his usual flippancy, a rare moment of self-deprecation. "I told you long ago, I can no longer see the future clearly. Your Master Merlin is now just a useless old fool." His gaze shifted to Guinevere, as if he had something he wanted to tell her.
Whatever Merlin and Guinevere might discuss later, the Round Table meeting had now concluded.
Soon, even Agravain chose to withdraw temporarily to attend to his duties, leaving the King of Knights, Guinevere, and Merlin alone in the Throne Room.
"Master Merlin, if there's anything you wish to say, you may speak now."
Only Merlin knew that the King of Knights' letter was but the smallest part of his reasons for leaving Avalon.
He could no longer discern the process clearly, having lost the ability to follow the script. One reason for this was his deliberate attempt to explore too many possibilities before his vision faded completely.
When his sight still held, no matter how the tangled threads of fate twisted and turned, those countless strands invariably converged on a single, clear conclusion.
In other words, he had witnessed Artoria's death countless times.
In these countless scenarios, Artoria would resent her own incompetence, regret choosing Guinevere as Queen, and hate herself for...
Yet across all those countless outcomes, Artoria never once resented Merlin. Even though she knew he foresaw her fate, he kept it secret from her time and time again.
Countless times, Merlin had glimpsed Artoria's heart-wrenching final smile. Countless times, he had felt her regard him as the person she trusted most.
Yet the very person she trusted most had concealed the truth from her, allowing her to walk blindly into the Abyss.
Amidst Artoria's countless smiles and unwavering lack of blame, Merlin's guilt had slowly grown from nothing.
He finally experienced his first true human emotion. Unable to bear witnessing the process any longer, he returned to Camelot of his own free will.
But the inevitable outcome remained unchanged. All he could hope for...
"Guinevere, as the old fool who watched Lia grow up, can I truly entrust her to you? Are you truly willing to bear the weight of her future?"
Guinevere was taken aback by Merlin's unexpected question, his tone unusually earnest and grave.