No matter how dissatisfied Her Majesty the Queen was with her advisers' idea, now that she had come, security naturally had to be fully arranged—especially given this delicate timing, it had to be even stricter than usual.
Once the Queen entered her private box, Lancelot began surveying the surroundings. Of course, six experienced knights were guarding Her Majesty, along with quite a few security personnel assigned to her by the Empire.
These knights had been temporarily reassigned... Normally, the Queen would only have Lancelot by her side.
In fact, this arrangement was entirely because Lancelot had not yet recovered. Only ten hours had passed since the battle late last night. Despite treatment from the Misty Capital Knights Organization's medical technology, her condition was actually far from good.
The Holy Armor possessed mysterious powers, and its forging techniques originated from the Celtic Pantheon... Even after being damaged, it could repair itself automatically.
At least another six hours were needed... Feeling the automatic repair process of Lancelot Du Lake's Holy Armor, the only female member of the Twelve Round Tables wore not the slightest hint of a smile.
She had completed a circuit and returned to the Queen's box.
"No suspicious individuals have been found for now." Facing the aged Queen, Lancelot's gaze remained calm. She stood with her legs slightly apart and her hands behind her back as she spoke.
"Relax, little Lancelot." Her Majesty waved her hand. "In fact, I'm not that important. Really, Lancelot, I'm merely an old woman standing before the public, supposedly representing this country's dignity."
Her Majesty lowered her head to tease her beloved pet and smiled. "It seems someone really does think I'm important... You know, I heard an amusing joke last year. A group of terrorists thought that as long as they kidnapped my