Chapter 32: Night Tour of Magic Asylum

Chapter 32: Night Tour of Magic Asylum

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"Understood, Princess."

Looking at Morgan in front of him, Ian answered directly.

"Ian, aren't you going to hesitate for a moment?" Morgan looked at the knight who had answered without any thought.

"That's my father's throne."

"Well, I know that's the king's throne."

"But that is also the place you long for, my lady, right?"

Ian gave a sly smile.

"Someone has to escort you there, doesn't he?"

Morgan said nothing more.

[She, wearing a tulle, holds your hand and walks out of the room.]

[Morgan had cast a spell on the two of you at some point. When the moon is full, even if you walk hand in hand in the night like this, your figures are hidden.]

[You arrive at the corridor of the royal court.]

[The moon was bright and the stars sparse, so she slowed her pace.]

"Ian."

"Yes, Princess."

"Is this the first time we've come here at night?" Morgan asked, looking at the sea of flowers half immersed in moonlight.

"You remember correctly, Princess."

The fact was that neither of them had ever been anywhere other than Morgan's room.

After all, if other people accidentally discovered the knight and the princess's reconciliation, things would get out of control.

But Ian knew there was no need to point this out - there was no right or wrong in their answers.

"Ian, answer that question for me again."

Morgan turned around and looked straight at Ian with her blue eyes.

"Who is more beautiful, me or these flowers?"

"I don't want to hear that answer again."

"That's obvious." Ian smiled. "Of course, you are more beautiful, Princess."

"Why?"

"Because you, like the flowers, also walk in the moonlight." Ian did not avoid Morgan's gaze.

"But I can only notice you, not the flowers."

Morgan smiled charmingly.

"Ian, this is a completely different answer from before. Am I a fickle person in your mind?"

"Princess, that's not the case." Ian answered calmly. "When the sun rises over Britain, you shine like it, and all the poems need to praise this brilliance, so your beauty can only be buried in my heart."

"And when the sun of Britain rests, I no longer need to sing those poems, and your beauty is the most eye-catching splendor under the night sky."

Morgan smiled with satisfaction.

"Ian, your words of coaxing me are getting more and more beautiful."

"But there is one thing I think I need to correct you on."

"The sun never sets on Britain; it just sets somewhere else."

"My Lady, you are right."

[The story of Morgan and the flowers ends for now.]

[She held your hand and walked through the corridors of the royal court.]

[Countless rooms slowly pass by you, silently telling the majesty of Camelot.]

[After the interweaving of light and shadow, you and Morgan stop in front of a huge door.]

[You have never been allowed to enter here, but you know clearly that behind this door is where the throne is.]

You understand what you are getting into.

"Ian," Morgan looked at the huge door in front of her, with an indescribable feeling in her blue eyes.

"Do you know what's behind this door?"

"I know, Princess." Ian also looked at it.

"That's the place you think about day and night, and that's the place you will definitely sit in."

"It's amazing that you always think so."

The princess's fair hand gently stroked the door.

Although King Uther has not opened it for a long time, people with special permission still take good care of this place that symbolizes royal power.

So Morgan didn't touch any dust - although she wouldn't hate it even if she did.

"Obviously, no one thinks so..."

"That's because the people have not yet seen your ability to govern, Princess. Once they understand your vision, they will surely wake up."

"So, Princess..."

Ian put his hand on the door as well - this was a clear act of usurping one's status.

"I'll open this door for you."

[The heavy wooden door is slowly pushed open by you.]

[The paths of the door bottoms each draw a quarter of a circle on the ground.]

[You know you are doing something that could lead to your own death, but you have no complaints about it.]

[Because you know that's what Morgan needs.]

[This time, it's your turn to hold Morgan's hand and take her to the place she has fantasized about countless times.]

"Princess, we're going in." Ian reported.

Morgan looked at everything in front of her bathed in moonlight, and it took her a while to utter a word.

"Ian, do you understand what you mean?"

"I understand." Ian nodded in response.

"An ignorant knight broke into the king's meeting place in the middle of the night."

"And you, my lady, are the smart one who noticed all of this."

[Morgan completely understands what you mean - she knows that once you are discovered, you will take all the responsibility immediately.]

[But she doesn't need you to do this.]

[She is fully confident in her magic and doesn't think that she and you will be discovered by anyone.]

But you also notice one thing.

[You notice that her eyes are always looking at the throne not far ahead.]

You realize what she's thinking.

[You know it's time to help her out.]

Morgan's eyes are still on the throne where King Uther once sat.

She could feel her heart beating loudly, and every beat was so clear that it seemed as if it might separate from her chest at any moment.

Morgan knew that she was being a little paranoid.

But she also knew that these paranoias were the foundation that supported her soul.

Since there is always someone who will become the king.

Then why can't that person be herself?

The ambitious memories by the lake create a restless mood.

It wasn't until Ian's voice came that Morgan returned to reality.

She heard an apology.

"I'm sorry, Princess. Please allow me to be rude once."

"What?"

Before Morgan could comprehend what this meant, Ian had bent down and picked her up.

Step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Ian sent Morgan to the throne with a very standard pace.

"My Lady, you should be sitting like this now."

"Standing is what a humble knight like me should do."

Hearing these words, Morgan's hand gently stroked the edge of the throne.

The sternness on her face gradually disintegrated, replaced by a light blush like the one she got from Ian.

"No, Ian, you should kneel before me."

Morgan rested her chin on her right hand and leaned sideways on the throne.

One of her feet pressed against Ian's inner thigh.

"As a knight, don't you need my canonization?"

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