Silent Crown

Chapter 241 Why Not Just Hit Him

The next day at the palace, the doors opened slowly under the heavy ringing of the morning nine o’clock bell. A low-key, but elegant carriage drove out.

All guards before the palace gates lowered onto one knee to welcome the carriage. Before them was a silent giant. The knight was clad in a metallic armor of black steel. Its features were sharp and menacing but the body was thin rather than burly, making it seem abnormally agile.

This was the divine armor passed down through the Round Table Knights. Contrary to other heavy armor, this one was not paired with large weapons such as spears or shields. It only had a sword.

The cross-shaped sword hung at the knight’s waist. Precious stones and diamond pieces were inlaid in the hilt. It looked like a gorgeous and finely made piece of art rather than a killing weapon for the battleground.

The carriage stopped beside it. The knight lowered onto one knee and lowered his head politely. The sound of metal grating was like weak thunder.

"Greetings to Your Majesties from Galahad." The voice that came from the armor sounded like a young girl’s but it was not gentle or sweet; instead, the voice had indescribable awe-inspiring seriousness.

After a long pause, Mary’s greeting sounded in the carriage. "Long time no see, Christine."

"Long time no see, Your Majesty," the knight known as Christine replied stiffly. "Please call me Galahad here. ‘Christine’ is too soft of a name for a knight."

"Ever since you put this armor on, you’ve become…" Mary’s voice paused in the carriage as it became troubled and lost. "Never mind. Who isn’t like this?"

"In my humble opinion, Your Majesty is still as before," Christine replied gravely. "Even if I’ve inherited the position of Galahad, I am still captain of your guard."

After a long silence, Mary seemed to chuckle. "It seems that I’m the one who overthought. It’s getting late, my captain of guard. Escort my brother and I to the Musician’s Union."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Galahad stepped back, mounted her horse, and rode forward.

The guards in the back hoisted the ceremonial euphorbia, pulled the ropes and steered the carriage behind the steel knight as they marched forward. Ever since the queen went into reclusion, the royal family fell into silence. Now, the royal procession once again appeared in the city and it did not represent anything simple.

All was silent in the carriage’s path. The citizens all bowed and did not begin discussing quietly until the carriage had gone. Some with foresight saw the emblem of the second queen on the carriage and understood the queen’s decision. In the end, the carriage stopped before the Musician’s Union building on Queen’s Avenue.

Mary, clad in a formal dress, descended from the carriage with the help of a servant and reached toward the carriage. "James, stop hiding and come here."

Soon, a frail figure covered from head to toe in white grasped her hand. Unwilling to come out, he lifted his mask and whispered in her ear.

"Bear with it. It’ll be over soon." Grasping his hand, Mary’s voice was gentle. "I’ll go with you later, alright?"

The white-clad figure held her hand and wanted to say something, but seeing the eyes that looked like his mother’s, he lowered his head obediently.

"Welcome, Your Majesties." Bayer walked forward and took off his hat in greeting. He was completely polite.

Mary nodded slightly. "Thank you for the welcome by the Musician’s Union. My brother has caught a cold and cannot speak. Please understand."

Feeling the dangerous coldness, Bayer smiled wryly. He still uttered a well-formulated response, "Of course. We’ve prepared a resting room for Your Majesties. Please follow me."

"Thank you." Mary held the crown prince’s hand and followed behind Bayer. After two steps, she still did not hear the clanking behind her. The steel knight Galahad was still in her original spot. Rather than following, she stared at the distant crowd as if spacing out.

"Christine, what’s wrong?"

The knight quickly turned around. After a few seconds delay, she replied, "Nothing, Your Majesty. There is no problem."

She caught up amidst the clanking sounds and stood beside the royalty with her sword. Before stepping through the door, she looked back to the crowd subconsciously. There, the white-haired youth disappeared like an illusion.

-

Curious scholars had filled the large hall of the Musician’s Union. There were not many musicians who were dedicated to theories, and there were even fewer who had become famous.

Now, those who had hurried to Anglo were practically all from the School of Revelations. The seventy-some people were all acquaintances and waved to each other in the hall. Most had white hair already; the youngest were over thirty-years-old.

"Ah, if someone bombed this building, it would be horrible! The ancient word of academia would be pushed back four-hundred years! It sounds exciting!" This came from Charles. It was a serious time, but he still could not help but spout nonsense. Beside him, the expressionless Ye Qingxuan sneakily kicked him. Bai Xi hated these serious events so she did not enter the building. She stayed outside with Old Phil and waited for them to finish.

Ye Qingxuan, Charles, and Abraham sat in the corner, seemingly insignificant. No one recognized them, so while the scholars were discussing quietly, it never occurred to them that the stars were right beside them.

Ye Qingxuan had never expected that the arguments outside would be this interesting.

"Mr. Lennon, you are too na?ve. Academia is a serious theory. Someone who has not been taught properly cannot easily make a breakthrough. Mr. Ingmar is orthodox and is a famous figure in the academic world. It’s logical that he can create such results. You can’t jump out, say that he plagiarized, and take the results for yourself."

"The orthodoxy has been helpless against the Voynich Manuscript for centuries. All the grandmasters were unable to do anything, even grandmaster Miss Lola, but Ingmar can?"

"At least he’s more reliable than some quickly-produced musician!"

"I heard that he’d only been educated for three months! He probably didn’t even have times to learn all the runes!"

"Yeah, those rookie folk musicians just love public attention. Like some alchemy powder that turns water to oil, or that perpetual motor, aren’t they all just jokes made by those ‘folk musicians’?"

The crowd laughed quietly. It was obvious that the term ‘folk musicians’ accurately described what the amateur civilian musicians were like.

Ye Qingxuan had good hearing and could hear the voices clearly from dozens of meters away. He maintained his poker face but Charles’s expression grew worried.

"It seems like Professor’s situation isn’t good." He sighed quietly.

Ye Qingxuan nodded. This was Abraham’s biggest weakness—he had no reputation in the academic world and was not even a Revelations musician. The academic world was isolated and everyone knew each other. Compared to the familiar and well-known Ingmar, it was difficult to trust Abraham.

The situation looked bleak but Abraham did not seem worried. Instead, he was calm and composed, and expressionless as always—this was how he was. At least being "slow" was a positive trait here.

"There’s no need to rush." Abraham looked at his watch. "There’s still one more hour. There’s no need to be here so early."

"It’s better to be prepared!" Charles pointed his chin at a figure in the crowd. "Look at Ingmar, he’s dressed up like a butterfly. Ah, seeing him even makes me fall in love."

He had proudly used an Eastern idiom, instantly making Ye Qingxuan’s features twist. The other half of the idiom was "let alone that old guy!" Idioms could not be used so carelessly.

But Charles’s description was amazingly accurate. In the crowd, Ingmar wore a musician’s formalwear and a pure white coat. There were medals on his chest and his sleeves were lined with gold. His long salt-and-pepper hair was tied back, his eyes were deep like a starry sky, and a polite smile was on his face. He was the perfect example of a musician.

On the other hand, Abraham wore the same coat he had for the past few decades, and Charles was dressed slovenly (because he did not have anything else). Only Ye Qingxuan was slightly formal, which was not very formal.

"I feel like we’ve lost on looks." Charles instantly grew dejected.

Ingmar easily made small-talk with all the scholars in the crowd. He talked about life, made jokes, and caused many smiles. The appraisal was coming but he was still charismatic.

As if on accident, he saw Abraham in the corner and his lips curled into the slightest sneer as he walked over.

"Hey, Yezi, he’s coming."

Charles grew excited but Ye Qingxuan just looked and nodded. "Yeah."

"I’m nervous, what should we do?" Charles asked quietly. "What’s he coming over for? Is he going to talk trash again? What should I do?"

"He can’t beat you in talking trash so what are you scared of?" Ye Qingxuan thought to himself.

Beside him, Abraham thought for a moment and suddenly slapped his knee, concluding, "If you don’t know what to do, why not just hit him?"

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