Chapter 32: A Magic-Protected Night Tour
"Understood, Your Highness."
Looking at Morgan in front of him, Ian answered directly.
"Ian, don't you plan to hesitate for a while?"
Morgan looked at the knight who answered her directly without any thought.
"That's my father's throne."
"Yes, I know that's the king's throne."
"But isn't that also the place Your Highness yearns for?"
Ian showed a sly smile.
"Someone always has to escort you there, doesn't he?"
[Morgan didn't say anything more.]
[Wearing a thin gauze, she took your hand and walked out of the room.]
[Morgan had applied magic she developed on both of you at some point. During the full moon, even if you walk hand in hand in the night like this, your figures can be hidden.]
[You came to the royal court's corridor.]
[The moon was bright and the stars were sparse, and her steps slowed down a bit.]
"Ian."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"This is the first time we've been here at night, right?" Morgan looked at the sea of flowers half-immersed in the moonlight and asked.
"You're right, Your Highness."
The fact is that the two have never been anywhere other than Morgan's room.
After all, if you accidentally let others discover the union of the knight and the princess, things will get out of hand.
But Ian knew he didn't need to point this out—there was no right or wrong answer between the two.
"Ian, answer that question again."
Morgan turned around, her blue eyes looking straight at Ian.
"Who is more beautiful, me or these flowers?"
"I don't want to hear that answer from before."
"This is obvious." Ian smiled slightly, "Of course it's Your Highness, you are beautiful."
"Why?"
"Because you, like flowers, also walk in the moonlight." Ian didn't avoid Morgan's gaze.
"But I can only notice you, but not the flowers."
Morgan smiled charmingly.
"Ian, this is a completely different answer from before. Am I a fickle person in your heart?"
"Your Highness, it's not like that." Ian answered calmly.
"When the sun of Britain rises, you shine like it. Just praising this radiance has exhausted all the poems, so your beauty can only be buried in my heart."
"And when the sun of Britain rests, I don't need to sing those poems anymore, and your beauty is the most eye-catching brilliance under this night."
Morgan showed a satisfied smile.
"Ian, your words to coax me are getting more and more beautiful."
"But there is one thing I think I need to correct you."
"The sun of Britain will never set, it just blesses other places."
"Your Highness, you're right."
[The story of Morgan and the flowers came to an end for the time being.]
[She took your hand and walked through one corridor after another in the royal court.]
[Countless rooms slowly passed by you, silently telling the majesty of Camelot.]
[After the light and shadow intertwined, you and Morgan stopped in front of a huge door.]
[You have never been allowed to enter here, but you clearly know that behind this door is where the throne is.]
[You understand what you are touching.]
"Ian." Morgan looked at the huge door in front of her, her blue eyes filled with unspeakable feelings.
"Do you know what's behind this door?"
"I know, Your Highness." Ian also looked at it.
"That's the place you dream of, and it's also the position you will inevitably sit on."
"It's rare that you always think so."
The princess's white hand gently stroked the door.
Although King Uther hasn't opened it for a long time, people with special permission are still taking care of this place that symbolizes royal power.
So Morgan didn't touch any dust—although she wouldn't dislike it even if there was any.
"Obviously no one thinks so..."
"That's because the people haven't seen your ability when you were in power, Your Highness. Once they realize your vision, they will definitely wake up."
"So, Your Highness..."
Ian also put his hand on the door—this was an act of obvious usurpation.
"I'll open this door for you."
[The heavy wooden door was slowly pushed open by you.]
[The tracks at the bottom of the door each drew a quarter of a circle on the ground.]
[You know you are doing something that is enough to bring death, but you have no complaints about it.]
[Because you know that's what Morgan needs.]
[This time, it's your turn to take Morgan's hand and bring her into the place she has imagined countless times.]
"Your Highness, we're in." Ian reported.
Morgan looked at everything bathed in the moonlight in front of her, and after a long time, she said a word.
"Ian, do you understand what you mean?"
"I understand." Ian nodded in response.
"A knight who doesn't know the immensity of the sky and the earth broke into the king's meeting place in the middle of the night."
"And Your Highness, you are the wise person who noticed all of this."
[Morgan completely understood what you meant—she knew that once discovered, you would take on everything at the first time.]
[However, she doesn't need you to do that.]
[She has full confidence in her magic and doesn't think that she and you will be discovered by anyone.]
[But you also noticed one thing.]
[You found that her eyes were always looking at the throne not far ahead.]
[You realized what she was thinking.]
[You know it's time to help her.]
Morgan's eyes were still on the throne that King Uther had sat on.
She could feel her heart beating thumpingly, every moment of pulsation was clear, as if it might separate from her chest at any time.
Morgan knew that she was a bit paranoid.
But she also knew that these paranoias were the foundation that supported her soul.
Since someone has to become king.
Then why can't this person be herself?
The memories by the lake that aroused ambition wrote out restless emotions.
It wasn't until Ian's voice came that Morgan returned to reality.
She heard an apology.
"Sorry, Your Highness, please allow me to be rude once."
"What?"
Before Morgan could understand what this sentence meant, Ian had already bent down and picked her up.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Ian sent Morgan to the throne in very standard steps.
"Your Highness, you should sit like this."
"Standing is what a humble knight like me should do."
Listening to these words, Morgan's hand gently stroked the edge of the throne.
The coldness on her face was disintegrating little by little, replaced by the blush that was like getting pleasure from Ian.
"No, Ian, you should kneel in front of me."
Morgan rested her chin on her right hand and leaned against the throne.
One of her jade feet pressed against the inside of Ian's thigh.
"As a knight, don't you need me to grant you knighthood?"