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

With your assistance, Morgan gracefully turned around on horseback.

"Ian."

Morgan gently patted the knight's face.

"Did you forget something?"

“You are now a knight being punished by me, not a lover coming to enjoy bliss.”

"It's my bad memory, Your Highness."

“Hmm.” Morgan nodded in satisfaction. “Then I’ll punish you by making you answer one more question.”

The princess slowly descended backward, lying on her warhorse.

Her long, beautiful hair was scattered among the clean, soft mane of the colt, creating a two-tone scene with clear boundaries, yet still beautiful.

"Ian."

“You know what?” Morgan looked at Ian above him, “it’s not an easy thing to get someone else to ride on this horse.”

"I need it to know that you are my pawn, my loyal knight."

"This process is actually not simple, nor is it stable."

"so--"

Morgan's lips curled up slightly, revealing a playful smile.

Her fingers gently hooked Ian's chin.

"If the horse senses anything too unusual, it will get frightened and run away."

"Foolish knight, how do you intend to resolve this problem while obeying my orders?"

"I'm curious."

“I see,” Ian replied to Morgan. “It seems I may not be able to solve this problem.”

"But I believe that Your Highness must have a way to solve this problem."

"oh--?"

Morgan's fingers twirled Ian's hair.

"But Ian, even if I knew the solution, what business is it of yours?"

"Yes, Your Highness, you know how to solve this problem, which may not really have anything to do with me."

"But—this will be the key for you going forward."

"Ian, what do you mean by this?"

"Your Highness, there's no need for you to guess. I will reveal the answer to you now."

Ian completely loosened the reins—it was indeed an excellent warhorse, maintaining its strict discipline even after the reins were loosened.

Ian, now free, grasped Morgan's hands with one hand and placed the other on Morgan's waist.

“Your Highness, I think I know a place that is softer than your hands.”

"And it will also be the key to solving the problems we face."

"Ian."

The princess, whose hands were being held, felt the knight's hands, which held only what he wanted.

She didn't mind the contact from the other person; she simply asked a question.

"I doubt you're proficient in everything, do you?"

"But there always needs to be new attempts."

Ian answered respectfully—he already had a solution to the problem in his mind.

"Your Highness, would you be willing to give me this opportunity to try and solve this problem?"

"You might as well give it a try."

Morgan's eyes reflected Ian's image.

"I'd like to see just how excellent your answer will be."

You and Morgan begin discussing the challenges of horseback riding.

You touched something softer than Morgan's hand.

As you stroke it, you suddenly recall a beautiful seashell you found on the beach one summer day in the past.

Its surface is smooth and clean, without a single pattern; the inside of its shell is comfortable and warm—a beautiful thing worth lingering to appreciate.

That's a beautiful seashell, and you really like it.

The princess's legs were trembling.

She realized she had underestimated the knight's abilities beyond swordsmanship.

She tried to salvage the situation in a way she approved of, only to find that it was too late.

[Based on the requirements of the riddle on horseback, she knew that she was now the one who should answer.]

The problem used to embarrass the knight has now become his own obstacle.

She lost.

The sound of a clear spring echoed in the garden of the British princess.

sunset.

The princess's warhorse lowered its head and grazed on the tender grass by the stream.

It had no idea where the princess and knight on its back were going, but the feeling of being unburdened made it feel incredibly free.

"My Lady Princess..."

"how?"

Morgan, who was being carried on Ian's back, revealed a pair of deep blue eyes from behind him.

"Do you have any objections to the fact that I don't want to ride a horse, but want to ride you instead?"

"No, I have no complaints."

"Alright, then you'll obediently be my horse."

Morgan revealed a smug smile.

"This is your reward for winning."

The Cavaliers' first law of loyalty: Don't try to win a game against Morgan; it will hurt more than losing.

But Ian doesn't mind.

Even though they were in different positions, he could still smell her intoxicating scent.

This is enough.

but--

There is one thing that still needs to be clarified.

“Your Highness.” Ian looked at the somewhat unfamiliar forest environment around him, somewhat puzzled.

Why did we come here?

"So that you can marry me," Morgan said without any attempt to hide it.

"I want to set up a magic spell near the capital, and this is a suitable location."

"Under its influence, you will marry me in a very legitimate capacity, understand?"

"…My Lady the Princess."

"We can talk about it later. Just wait to marry me."

Morgan rested her head on Ian's shoulder and whispered:

“Ian, you will never escape from me in this lifetime.”

"Understood, Your Highness."

As soon as he finished speaking, Morgan turned his head away.

"What is wrong, Your Highness?"

“Ian.” Morgan frowned slightly.

“There seem to be traces of other magic around here.”

37. Magic Guardian Made of Petals

Morgan's words put you on your guard.

You will not allow anyone to harm Morgan.

[You gripped your longsword even while carrying Morgan on your back.]

[Blessing from the Lake (Talent) + Activation.]

[Having enhanced your magical power, you sensed a faint, almost imperceptible aura in the air.]

However, you cannot determine what it is.

[But what Massage Gen said must be what's known as magic marks.]

"Ian, put me down."

"Yes, Your Highness."

There will always be a complex web of desire between a princess and a knight, but at crucial moments, they will suppress it deep within their hearts.

This is not only for myself, but also for the other person.

With his feet back on the ground, Morgan felt no sense of peace.

“Ian, something’s not right.”