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

Morgan's earlier words are increasingly becoming reality.

Your child, Gawain, was born in Camelot.

Just as Morgan said, Gawain was born with her magical blessing.

You can clearly sense that his talent and growth rate are extraordinary.

Morgan will use additional magic to conceal this extraordinary performance.

However, thanks to your and Morgan's deliberate control, Gawain's birth didn't cause a stir in Camelot—after all, now wasn't the time for a grand celebration.

But this doesn't mean you've mistreated Gawain.

You have provided him with the best environment to grow up in.

Morgan taught him the etiquette and knowledge befitting royalty, while you taught him the swordsmanship and courage befitting a knight.

There is a specially prepared area within the royal court.

[You and Xiao Gaowen are doing your daily practice here.]

"Gao Wen, why did you stop?"

Morgan looked at the young Gawain sitting next to him and asked this question.

"I don't want to practice anymore."

Xiao Gaowen turned his face away, looking somewhat angry.

Morgan was quite interested in Gawain.

"What happened?"

"Gawain, tell me."

“If it is your father’s mistake, I will definitely make him correct it.”

“Father…” Xiao Gaowen turned around, his face flushed red.

"Father was watching you the whole time, Mother! He didn't practice with me seriously at all. I don't like feeling like I'm being treated casually!"

"..."

Morgan's lips twitched, as if he wanted to laugh.

But she held back in the end.

"Hmm...this is really going too far."

"Don't worry, I'll talk to him right now."

"Mmm!" Xiao Gaowen nodded repeatedly.

Morgan walked up to Ian and took his hand—the most intimate gesture she could make with Ian in front of the children.

"Ian, how could you treat Gawain like this?"

“He is our child. You should have carefully taught him and made him an excellent knight under our command.”

"But now you're only looking at me."

"I'm sorry, I won't do that again."

“I didn’t say you had to correct this.”

Morgan's fingers gently caressed Ian's fingers, his slender index and middle fingers slightly forked on his middle finger, mimicking the shape of legs spread apart.

"I just hope you'll be mindful of the occasion—"

"A better occasion leads to a better experience."

"For example, when you're in a room, you can look wherever you want."

"That's it, I understand."

"Gawain, come here. Your father won't be distracted anymore."

"Come here!"

[Little Gao Wen has never slept in the same room as you.]

As your descendant, he has his own luxurious large room.

Of course, if we really trace it back, it was all your arrangement.

[Because your and Morgan's pleasure will never cease with the birth of Gawain.]

However, this does not mean that you are only seeking pleasure and neglecting the governance of Camelot.

You must reorganize the wounded troops, revise the laws, and enact more positive and proactive policies.

[As the land's yields decreased, you planted superior magical seeds on a large scale to mitigate this calamity as much as possible.]

You personally resolve many disputes in the city, and you can always be seen listening to opinions on the streets.

The public isn't stupid; they see your and Morgan's efforts.

The panic following King Uther's defeat was gradually dispelled.

Although you have never been crowned kings, in their hearts, you and Morgan, as princes, are already the uncrowned kings of Camelot.

During this time, Gawain also blossomed into an excellent knight.

He inherited your horse and sword.

"Father, Mother, I'm going on patrol."

“Go,” Ian waved his hand. “But you must remember that you are already an excellent knight, and you must always keep your temper under control.”

"Well, I know."

Gao Wen replied respectfully.

"I will never disgrace my father and mother."

Watching Gawain leave, Ian felt a slight pang in his heart.

Morgan, who was standing nearby, then grabbed his hand.

"Ian, come with me somewhere today."

“Of course, no problem.” Ian smiled slightly. “But Your Highness, could you please let me know in advance where you wish to go?”

"So I can make some preparations for you."

"No preparation is needed."

Morgan looked at the man beside her, her eyes filled with tenderness.

“It’s right here in the royal court, and we’ve already been there once.”

"Your Highness, could it be..."

“Ian, you’re right.”

Morgan gave a faint smile, concealing her insatiable ambition.

"I want to see the throne with you one more time."

54. You are her only throne.

“I see, Your Highness. Please allow me to accompany you,” Ian replied without changing his expression.

"Ian."

Morgan looked at the weathered man before him.

"It's daytime now."

Do you know what this means?

“Of course.” Ian smiled calmly. “I am your foolish husband who covets the throne, and you are your wise wife who tries to stop your husband from usurping it.”

"If anyone discovers this, King Lothar will be executed, and the story of the princess protecting King Uther's dignity will be told."

“Ian, you’re as stupid as ever.”

Morgan tightened her grip on Ian's hand.

"Do you want Gawain to lose his father so early?"

"My Lady, then——"

"Shut up." Morgan pulled Ian's hand into his arms.

"You are my possession; wherever I am, you must be there."

You gaze tenderly at Morgan, saying nothing more.

However, the situation isn't as bad as it seems.

[Because your and Morgan's positions have long since reached a level where no one can doubt them.]

Therefore, even as they walked deeper into the royal court, no one suspected anything.

You walked along the long corridor, which was neither entirely familiar nor completely unfamiliar, passing by the doors of each room.

You have arrived before that enormous door.

Behind the door lies the throne, symbolizing Camelot's allegiance.

You recalled the last time—Morgan hesitated about whether to push open this door.

You are prepared to shoulder everything and open this door for Morgan.

But this time—Morgan stopped you.

“Ian, let me do it myself.”

Morgan stopped Ian's hand.

Under the other person's gaze, her hand slowly moved closer to the door.

I touched it—

Morgan exerted a little force, and the door, a symbol of the obstruction of royal power, slowly opened.