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

Faced with Morgan's question, Ian could only remain silent.

But that's enough to answer everything.

"How could this happen... How could this happen? How could this happen?!"

Morgan covered his forehead, muttering the same sentence over and over again.

The deep-seated obsession within her soul made her feel dizzy.

She collapsed.

Morgan has fallen ill again.

As her nominal husband, you stayed by her side every step of the way.

You can hear her crying every night.

You feel like your internal organs are about to shatter.

But you know that all you can do now is silently stay by her side.

Because you are her most loyal knight.

The knight would not hold a grudge against the princess.

Good night, Your Highness.

Ian covered Morgan with the blanket, then lay down on the spot next to him.

This is the state he has been maintaining these past few days—he can react immediately whenever Morgan needs him.

But to be fair.

Ian felt that he was also quite tired.

His soul had been drifting closely with Morgan's long-cherished wish, like a journey with no end in sight.

It's too late to turn back now.

But he has no regrets.

Ian's eyelids closed slowly, as he was about to fall asleep.

And at this moment——

“Ian,” Morgan’s voice came from the darkness.

"Yes, Your Highness."

“I want to hear you say you love me,” Morgan asked truthfully after receiving a response.

“I love you, Your Highness,” Ian replied without hesitation.

Why didn't you hesitate at all?

"Because I am constantly thinking about how to express my love to you, Your Highness."

“Ian, this makes your affection sound cheap.”

"Your Highness is right, more is always cheaper."

"Could you please not answer so well?"

"That's because Your Highness asked a good question."

"..."

Morgan sat up and leaned against Ian's shoulder and arm.

Her long, smooth silver hair fell onto the strong arm of the man beside her.

She took his hand and began to speak softly.

"Ian, you must be very tired these past few days."

Am I getting a little annoying to you?

"Your Highness, I do feel quite tired."

Ian held Morgan's hand, trying to warm it as much as possible.

“But I have never been bored—your body has always been a labyrinth I have yet to fully explore.”

"You really dare to say that, aren't you afraid I'll get angry?"

"afraid."

“But I can wait until Your Highness is no longer angry.”

"What if I stay angry?"

"Then I will keep waiting."

Upon hearing this, Morgan pinched Ian's hand—a little tantrum she would throw when she couldn't win an argument with him.

However, these little tricks didn't last long.

Morgan spoke again.

“Ian, if I said…”

Before Morgan could finish speaking, Ian had already given the second half of his sentence.

Are you saying you're still unwilling to give up?

"Good that you understand." Morgan turned her head away.

"Of course I understand."

"Because I'm unwilling to give up either."

Ian’s eyes revealed an unprecedented determination.

"I will never acknowledge any king other than you."

"What's more, these are fraudsters who rose to power by relying on this kind of scam."

“I will spread rumors, create trouble, and cause disturbances in the city; I will do everything I can to stop her.”

Morgan looked up at the man beside her.

“Ian, that sounds despicable.”

“Yes, it is indeed despicable.” Ian nodded. “So I’ll do it.”

“Your Highness, you need not touch upon anything despicable.”

"..."

A glistening tear rolled down Morgan's cheek before disappearing into the darkness.

She slowly lifted the blanket, parted her legs slightly, and then sat on him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered:

"Ian, be a resting horse tonight."

"me--"

"I suddenly feel like riding a horse by myself."

62. The despicable have their methods (4,000-word chapter)

You begin to fulfill your promise.

The first thing you did was to secretly spread highly targeted rumors about Camelot.

At its core lies the questioning of Attorney's act of drawing his sword.

After all, she looked so petite, she didn't seem like someone with the ability to do something like this.

"Father, this is roughly the general public opinion in the city."

Gawain reported the intelligence he had gathered to Ian.

“There have been many comments like this recently.”

"Most of them were suspicious of Artorias pulling out the sword—they felt it was an odd royal selection."

Ian felt a surge of secret joy, but outwardly he remained composed.

"So, my child, what is your opinion on this statement?"

"..."

Gao Wen was silent for a moment, then quickly and respectfully replied:

"Since Father has already approved of this sword-drawing on that day, then I will absolutely not have any complaints."

"only--"

"Just what?" Ian looked at the knight in front of him. "Gawain, if you have something to say, just say it. It's just you and me here, no one else will know."

"Father."

Gao Wen's voice sounded somewhat conflicted.

"Unlike them, I don't think it's absurd for Atolis to draw his sword."

“In fact, I can feel that as we challenge the blade, it is also selecting us.”

"Gawain."

Ian looked at Gawain, who was revealing his thoughts.

"So you mean that even though you tried so many times and still lost the opportunity in the end, you have no complaints about it?"

"It's not that I have no complaints, but I think I have more to do than complain."

"..."

Ian patted Gawain on the shoulder.

“Gawain, you have the excellent qualities that a knight should possess.”

"But please step back first, I have things to do now."