39. The princess’ “defeat” again

　　"Ian, why don't you speak?"

　　Morgan asked with a hint of displeasure as she looked at the man in front of her who had gone through many hardships for her.

　　After all, what she had imagined from the beginning was that after she said this, Ian would definitely look flattered.

　　No matter how bad it is, you have to be somewhat surprised.

　　The current state of silence is almost like saying "not interested".

　　"Don't you like this kind of thing?" Morgan asked again.

　　"No." Ian shook his head quickly, "I just didn't expect that you, the princess, would want to let me experience this surprise in advance."

　　"I thought you would only allow me to see you in your wedding dress on your wedding day."

　　"So my heart is in a mess now, and I don't know what to say to express my excitement to you at this moment,"

　　"That's easy."

　　"Show it with action."

　　Morgan's blue eyes fell on Ian, and there was a vague desire in her sea-like eyes.

　　Her hands formed a circle behind Ian's neck.

　　"I haven't forgotten what I lost to you that day."

"I won't let you run away after winning."

　　"I see, I understand, my lady."

　　[Morgan pulls you through the royal corridor in an open manner. ]

　　[Many maids cast regretful looks at you - after all, if your wife was Morgan, there would be absolutely no chance. ]

　　[Morgan is very proud in her heart, but she still looks cold on the outside, as if marrying you is not a very happy thing. ]

　　[You know this very well, so you cooperate very well and put on a humble look. ]

　　[You maintained this state and came to the room one after another. ]

　　"Did you see the looks in those people's eyes?" Morgan sat on the edge of the bed.

　　"You can tell at a glance that they will definitely have thoughts about you in the future, and I will hang them all."

　　"Just choose tomorrow."

　　"That's not the case, my lady ." Ian dissuaded, "This is not the right time for such a big fight."

　　"Besides -"

　　"I don't care about the look in their eyes at all. No matter how sad they are, it has nothing to do with me."

　　"Yeah?"

　　Morgan looked at Ian subtly as he pledged his loyalty.

　　She sat quietly by the bed, her slender and slender jade feet gently peeking out from under the princess's skirt. Its surface was as white as snow.

　　"Then just believe your explanation."

　　"Now, come and put me into a wedding dress."

　　"Yes, I understand, my lady."

　　[You and Morgan stand in front of the mirror. ]

　　[You hugged her waist and felt the scent of her body. ]

　　[There are many roses from you in her room. ]

　　[But you think those fragrances are not worth mentioning in front of her. ]

　　"My Lady, I'm offended."

　　After Ian said this, his hands started from the waist and began to touch all the way down the princess's excellent figure.

　　The soft and fine fabrics began to rub against the skin, making a rustling sound that sounded interesting.

　　The princess stood gracefully in front of the mirror, and the soles of her feet were the most gorgeous clothes in Camelot. They formed a wreath-like shape, surrounding the soles of Morgan's feet.

　　Morgan never lost her beauty, especially in such moments of solitude.

　　Her clavicle has a distinct winding path, and the slight depression turns into a clear lake in the forest like her origin.

　　Her breasts are naturally streamlined and full, with a perfect and proud curve.

　　The pride of the Princess of Britain was most vividly reflected at this moment. Her body beauty was not inferior to that of anyone of the same sex.

　　The slender waist is tight without any fat, and the skin shrinks slightly, outlining the slightly oval belly button.

　　Further down, the skin is as white as ever, which may be the case for flawless people.

　　Her feet stood on the extremely clean floor of the room, but it seemed to be much cleaner than it was.

　　Morgan touched Ian's hand and stroked it gently with her fingers, her tone sounding a little distant and charming.

　　"Ian, am I beautiful?"

　　"You are so beautiful, My Lady." Ian lowered his head, leaned on Morgan's shoulder, and took a deep breath.

　　"You are so beautiful that I wonder if I am dreaming."

　　"Then let's prove it's not a dream."

　　Morgan breathed softly into Ian's ear.

　　"Ian, let's compete with me again and prove that you have that kind of courage when standing."

　　"I understand, my lady."

　　Knights do not die with their bare hands.

　　They always have their own weapons.

　　In the mirror, Morgan and Ian hugged each other, looking very intimate.

　　She closed her eyes, her hands were firmly grasped by Ian on the left and right respectively, and her lips were biting together tightly, with teeth marks clearly visible on them.

　　Her heels had already left the ground, leaving only her toes struggling in all directions.

　　"Your Majesty, you have a beautiful voice. Maybe now is the best time to sing."

　　"Shut up, knight, it's not time for you to give a victory speech."

　　"I'll knock you down before you knock me down."

　　[Facts have proved that Morgan still overestimated herself in this regard. ]

　　[When Ian really wants to compete, he is far less humble than usual]

　　[She realizes that she has raised a terrible beast. ]

　　[She lost again. ]

　　[And she lost completely. ]

　　[British morning dew fell on the floor along the princess's long legs. ]

　　Knight's Second Law: When Morgan wants to win, you'd better think about how you can lose to please her more.

　　"Ian, you should be happy to win, right?"

　　"Not happy."

　　"Then do you dare to win next time?"

　　"I don't dare anymore."

　　"Very good, let me reward you for thinking like that."

　　Morgan, who asked Ian to maintain a push-up position while sitting naked on top of him, said with an unhappy look on his face.

　　"Ian, you have to beat me on this kind of thing."

　　"You won't see the wedding dress today."

　　"But my lady, this is about the most basic dignity of a man."

　　"I don't want to hear this." Morgan pulled Ian's ear.

　　"I just want to beat you at these things once, any questions?"

　　"My Lady, no problem."

　　Seeing Ian's surrender, Morgan finally let go of his ears.

　　And she also thought of something.

　　"Ian, I have an idea now."

　　"Please speak, my lady."

　　"That is..."

　　Morgan wrote her name with her fingers on Ian's back.

　　She also seemed a little uneasy and confused about what she was going to say next. But I finally said it seriously.

　　"I want to write a letter to my father."

　　"Tell him you are my husband."

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