In the world of Type-Moon, it all begins with becoming Morgan's husband!

“Ian, I don’t want to do this either, but you don’t seem to be being honest.”

"If it was a man, why would he give you a scarf?"

Sure enough, they asked about scarves.

But Ian wasn't worried at all—because he really didn't have any designs on Artorius.

"Your Highness, your observation skills are indeed keen."

"but--"

"Perhaps you should take a look at that scarf first."

You took out the scarf that Artorias had given you.

Morgan took it and examined it for quite some time.

[Under your watchful eye, she placed it above the candlestick flame, and it burned completely.]

"ugly."

Morgan's voice rang out, and the embers and stench from the fire disappeared.

"I don't like it at all. Don't let me see you getting this kind of thing from any girl again."

"besides--"

"Men are not allowed either."

"Those whose gender is unclear are also not allowed."

At this point, Ian knew that the unfinished scarf had indeed convinced Morgan of his words.

"Yes, Your Highness." He smiled slightly. "I will be more careful in the future."

Morgan has let you off the hook for now.

Her heels relaxed a bit, and you no longer felt as much pressure on them as before.

However, her questioning did not end there.

“Ian.” Morgan leaned forward slightly.

"But didn't you say that the person named Artorius might have seen something he shouldn't have seen?"

Ian nodded.

"Yes, Your Highness."

“I did think so at first, but after actually talking to him, I realized that he hadn’t noticed what I was doing at that time at all.”

"And there are some mistakes I have to confess to you."

"Oh--?"

Morgan's fingers traced the edge of Ian's cheek.

"Speak, what is it?"

Ian took a deep breath and spoke in a tone full of apology:

"His appearance is somewhat similar to yours, I really can't bring myself to do it."

Upon hearing this, Morgan smiled.

"Ian, are you saying you see me in him?"

"Yes, Your Highness, you are right. That is why I did not take action."

Ian appeared so sincere that Morgan had no way of doubting his words.

Her heels slowly moved off Ian.

“Ian, if that’s the case, you should kill him.”

"It's similar to me; it's a potential threat."

“Yes, Your Highness, now that I think about it, I should have done it.” Ian did not deny his mistake.

"I am willing to accept any punishment."

"punish?"

Morgan stood up.

Under the moonlight, she was graceful and her skin was like jade, like a unique fairy dancing in this world.

"Yes, I really should punish you."

Morgan turned around and took Ian's hand.

"As punishment, you shall accompany me to sit on my father's throne for a while."

32. Night Wandering Under the Protection of Magic

"Understood, Your Highness."

Looking at Morgan, Ian answered directly.

“Ian, aren’t you going to hesitate for a moment?” Morgan looked at the knight who answered him almost without thinking.

“That is Father’s throne.”

"Yes, I know that's the king's throne."

"But isn't that the place you, Your Highness, yearn for?"

Ian gave a sly smile.

"There will always be someone to escort you there, won't there?"

Morgan didn't say anything more.

She, dressed in a sheer veil, took your hand and walked out of the room.

Morgan has somehow cast a spell on both of you, a spell she developed herself. During the full moon, even walking hand-in-hand with you in the night like this, your figures will be completely concealed.

You have arrived at the royal court's long corridor.

The moon was bright and the stars were few; she slowed her pace.

"Ian."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Is this the first time we've been here at night?" Morgan asked, looking at the sea of ​​flowers half-submerged in the moonlight.

“You remember correctly, Your Highness.”

The truth is that the two of them didn't go anywhere except Morgan's room.

After all, if others were to accidentally discover the knight and the princess's affair, things could get out of control.

However, Ian knew he didn't need to point that out—there was no right or wrong answer between the two.

"Ian, answer that question again."

Morgan turned around, her deep blue eyes staring straight at Ian.

"Who is more beautiful, me or these flowers?"

"I don't want to hear that answer again."

“That’s obvious,” Ian smiled slightly. “Of course, it’s Your Highness who is more beautiful.”

"why?"

“Because you, like a flower, walk in the moonlight.” Ian did not avoid Morgan’s gaze.

"But I can only notice you, not the flowers."

Morgan smiled charmingly.

"Ian, this is a completely different answer from before. Do you think I'm a fickle person?"

“Your Highness, that’s not how it is,” Ian replied calmly.

"When the British sun rises, you shine just as brightly as it does. All the poems have been used up to praise this radiance, so your beauty can only be buried in my heart."

"And when the British sun rests, I no longer need to sing those poems, but your beauty is the most dazzling brilliance under the night sky."

Morgan smiled with satisfaction.

"Ian, the words you use to deceive me are getting sweeter and sweeter."

"However, there's one thing I think I need to correct you on."

"The sun in Britain never sets; it simply shines on another place."

"Your Highness, you are right."

The story of Morgan and the flower has come to a temporary close.

She took your hand and led you through the long corridors of the royal court.

Countless rooms slowly pass by you, silently narrating the grandeur of Camelot.

After a moment of interplay between light and shadow, you and Morgan stop in front of a massive doorway.

You were never allowed to enter here, but you know perfectly well that behind this door lies the throne.

You understand what you are dealing with.

“Ian.” Morgan looked at the massive door before him, his blue eyes filled with indescribable emotions.

Do you know what's behind this door?

“I know, Your Highness.” Ian looked at it as well.

"That is the place you've been dreaming of day and night, and the place you are destined to sit in."

"It's rare that you've always thought that way."

The princess's fair hand gently stroked the door.

Although King Uther has not opened it for a long time, people with special permission still take good care of this place that symbolizes royal power.