Simulator in Type-moon, Starting with becoming Morgan husband!

Chapter 33: Defiling the Throne

Morgan leaned against the throne.

The thin gown, whether by accident or design, slid along her skin.

In the stillness of the night, the Princess's fair shoulders were revealed, faintly exposing an elegant curve above her chest and the gentle rise beneath it.

But Morgan seemed utterly indifferent to all of it.

Her foot, emerging from the silk hem, pressed firmly against the "territory" of the knight.

Her blue-green eyes were soft yet enigmatic, like shards of broken crystal gleaming transparently.

Ian understood that Morgan had now fully embraced the role of a ruler.

He was also willing to play along with her act—despite the absence of an audience.

"Yes, Your Majesty, you are correct. I shall kneel before you immediately."

"Wait—"

Morgan stopped him with her perfectly manicured foot, enhanced with Magecraft.

"I've changed my mind."

"Since this is a knighthood ceremony, let me inspect your weapon."

Resting her cheek on her hand, Morgan offered a faint smile.

"My knight, you wouldn't refuse my request, would you?"

[Of course, you cannot deny Morgan's request.]

[Though this place is far from appropriate for such actions, you still obey her wishes, removing your armor.]

[Even though you're fully aware she's merely toying with you.]

[Morgan, seated on the throne, observed every move, occasionally commanding you to stop.]

[And it was during one of these pauses that she noticed something.]

"Ian." Morgan's voice carried a trace of doubt. "Where is your sword?"

Knowing he couldn't hide the truth from her, Ian answered honestly.

"Princess, I've already given it to Artorius."

Hearing this, Morgan's expression instantly turned cold.

"Ian!"

"Why is it him again? Are you truly so interested in that man?"

"Princess, it was a mistake in my previous plans. I am deeply ashamed of my incompetence."

"Well then, it seems I must remind you who you belong to."

Morgan's foot slowly slid upward, resting on Ian's chest, and began to gently press and massage.

She spoke coldly, "This is your punishment."

Morgan's feet were far more dexterous than Ian had anticipated.

Moreover, she knew exactly how to subdue Ian—or rather, how to torment him.

She understood her knight too well.

In the end, Ian couldn't endure it anymore.

"Princess, I was wrong."

"I truly should not have given away my personal sword without informing you first."

"Please, grant me another chance."

"Is that all?"

Morgan was relentless.

"Then, Ian, tell me—what will you do the next time you meet that man named Artorius?"

"I will find every way to kill him."

Morgan revealed a satisfied smile.

"Is that so? I hope you can live up to your words."

The Princess's foot finally relented, releasing her knight.

But that didn't mean everything was over.

On the contrary, it marked the beginning of something entirely new.

Morgan, seated on the throne, straightened her posture.

Her legs parted slightly, her hands gripping the armrests of the throne, her body leaning back into the wine-red velvet cushion behind her.

"Ian, the true test has only just begun."

"Let's see if your remaining weapon is as excellent as it once was."

[You fully understood Morgan's intentions.]

[It was just that the situation seemed slightly different tonight.]

[Under the influence of the throne beneath her, she no longer wanted to proceed in the usual manner.]

[Yet she didn't tell you what she needed you to change.]

[At this moment, you began to feel the intricacies of a peculiar gentleness.]

[However, you were not afraid of any of this.]

[Because as Morgan understood you, you too were coming to understand Morgan.]

[She was the only Princess capable of subduing you, and you were the knight who understood her best.]

"Forgive me, Princess," Ian said as he slowly knelt.

The Princess's flawless legs, eternally soft and smooth, were worth admiring in every exquisite detail.

However, this was not the time for such artistic appreciation.

Ian held her legs carefully, lifting them gently.

Until they passed over Morgan's forehead;

Until they brushed against her ears;

Until they rested on the cushion of the throne.

"Ian, do you know what you're doing?" Morgan stared intently at the knight approaching her and asked.

"I do, Princess," Ian replied without fear of her words.

"You are the future king, and I am your knight. In this matter, there is only one possibility: my loyalty to you."

"In that case—"

Morgan glanced toward her ear.

"Is that why you're doing this?"

Ian nodded.

"Yes, Princess."

"All you need to do is sit on the throne, and I will pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ian, this is the throne," Morgan's voice took on a subtle tone, "And I am your Princess."

"To do such things on the throne with the Princess is a sin worthy of courting death."

"But Princess, you didn't object to my actions earlier."

"…"

"…"

Morgan and Ian locked eyes for a moment, fully understanding each other's thoughts without needing words.

For those who understood each other so profoundly, how could they refuse a new kind of thrill?

[You and Morgan shared a profound exchange.]

[Talent "Mystery Magecraft" acquired: It seems Morgan once again used her body to cast some sort of spell on you. However, you can sense it causes you no harm.]

[You know you are defiling King Uther's throne.]

[But you are equally aware that instead of worrying about this, you prefer to see Morgan's heartbeat quicken because of you.]

[After all, he was just a king who abandoned his daughter, while she is the one you have sworn loyalty to.]

[Which is more important is clear at a glance.]

[Even so, this desecration also brings you greater clarity.]

[You remember a few matters that must be addressed.]

"Princess," Ian began.

"What? Have you realized your mistakes?"

"Yes, I have realized my mistakes, and I feel ashamed and sorrowful for them," Ian replied respectfully.

"But there are some matters I hope to gain your approval for."

"Making requests at a time like this?" Morgan chuckled coldly. "Ian, you truly know how to choose your moments."

"But, given that you have indeed tried, I will allow you to speak."

"Thank you—Princess. The war continues, food production is down, and there are now many refugees appearing around our capital."

"If possible, Princess, I believe we should act on this. It could help you further solidify your reputation."

"Ian, what you've mentioned has not escaped my notice. Something indeed must be done."

Morgan raised her hand, lightly brushing her fingers across Ian's cheek.

"But this time, I want you to act and build the reputation that belongs to you."

"Me, act?" Ian was slightly surprised. "Princess, my reputation holds no significance."

"This is your kingdom."

"Ian, you don't need to teach me what to do."

Always maintaining her air of superiority, Morgan's entire being radiated an icy, oppressive authority.

"I've already said, everything of yours belongs to me."

"Your reputation is no exception."