In the World of Type-Moon, Starting as Morgan's Husband

[Morgan heard your words.]

[You find that deep down, you still hope for a hint of reluctance on Morgan's face.]

[But contrary to your expectations, she doesn't cast you a pitying glance. She remains as indifferent as ever, as if you had just mentioned something utterly mundane.]

[Though you feel a bit sad, you quickly come to terms with it.]

[A knight has no right to demand anything from those they serve.]

"Ian."

Morgan's deep blue eyes reflected Ian's figure.

"Do you understand what your words meant just now?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Ian nodded. "I understand what it all means."

"My life will be marked by a final punctuation by Your Highness."

"..."

Morgan was silent for a moment before speaking slowly:

"Ian, are you trying to make me feel guilty in this way?"

"No." Ian shook his head. "I know Your Highness would never feel guilt because of me."

"I just want to fulfill my final role as a piece on the chessboard, as you said, so my life can burn out until its last moment."

"Your Highness, I sincerely believe that Britannia belongs to you. There is no other choice."

[Morgan doesn't doubt your words.]

[She knows your loyalty to her and that you are truly capable of such actions.]

[But she is still hesitating about something.]

[You are contemplating whether this is related to you, and Morgan is confirming that point for you.]

"Ian, do you really think your death will bring so much value?"

Morgan's expression was very complex.

"Do you… think too highly of yourself?"

"Your Highness, though you might not believe this, I still want to tell you."

"In the eyes of others, I am already a minion of Vortigern, having caused the death of countless Britannian knights. I am already the recognized enemy of the knights."

"And Your Highness—"

Ian raised his head and looked directly at Morgan with eyes full of loyalty and determination.

"You are the invincible princess of Britannia, and also the sharp blade on the battlefield."

"Having you execute me will be what everyone expects. Every knight would be very pleased to see this."

"At the moment my head falls, they will raise their swords and call out your name, and the wise king will realize that your talents are not empty talk. You will certainly make Britannia continue to shine."

Vortigern had said that Morgan was not fit to be a king, that she was not worthy to be his opponent.

But Ian did not believe that.

In his eyes, there was no one more suited to rule Britannia than Morgan.

"Ian, don't you regret this?" Morgan asked again.

"I have no regrets." Ian answered without hesitation. "Since I swore loyalty to you, I have never regretted it."

"..."

Morgan was silent for a long time.

"I understand now, Ian."

"I will behead you in front of my father, and then bury your head in the ground beneath my feet."

[No one knows about the promise you made that day.]

[Morgan took you on the road alone, claiming it was to bring you before King Uther for judgment.]

[No one was concerned, for in their eyes, you were utterly defeated by Morgan and could never harm her.]

[On this journey without others involved, you and Morgan continued to interact as princess and knight.]

[You attended to her, holding the reins of her horse and taking care of her.]

[It made you feel like returning to the past.]

At night.

"Your Highness, here is your share."

Ian respectfully handed the grilled fish to Morgan.

After receiving the fish, she asked in slight surprise, "Ian, you can cook too?"

"Yes." Ian nodded. "Your Highness, I come from humble origins, so I naturally know how to handle caught fish."

"But—"

Morgan looked at the fish impaled on a twig in her hand and then at the small portion in Ian's hand. "Why… is yours so much smaller?"

Just as Morgan had lamented, even though they were both grilled fish, her portion was much larger than Ian's.

In response to Morgan's question, Ian simply smiled slightly and answered:

"Your Highness, you are the future queen of Britannia."

"All things in this land are yours, and I am merely bringing them to you as you require. How could I dare to demand more?"

"Allowing me to do so is already my great fortune."

"Ian…" Morgan, holding the grilled fish, curled her legs and gazed at the campfire, her eyes slightly squinted.

"Do you really believe I can become the queen of Britannia?"

"Your Highness, it is not a matter of belief, but certainty."

Ian shooed away the insects that had gathered around the campfire for Morgan.

"You are the rightful ruler of Britannia, recognized as the king of this realm. All knights will feel honored by your arrival."

"But you are the only one who has said this to me…"

The campfire cast a red sea of light in Morgan's eyes, tinging her gaze with a hint of white.

She seemed somewhat weary.

"There will always be someone who is the first, and it will never be the last."

Ian spoke with understanding, his eyes shining as if he were recounting a future already set in stone.

"I am just fortunate to be recognized as the first by you. My death will bring you even more loyalty."

"But those…"

Morgan turned to look at Ian, still seeing a face of absolute trust in him, now marred by the marks of countless stones.

Morgan realized this might be the first time she noticed these—Ian truly believed in her with his life, enduring countless insults and misunderstandings.

She swallowed her words.

Instead, she gave an order:

"When you keep watch for me tonight, come a little closer to the campfire. No one will know."

"Understood, Your Highness."

[The Britannian army's line was not drawn too long.]

[Your journey with Morgan also quickly came to an end.]

[You were taken before King Uther as proof of her achievements.]

[Morgan claimed she would execute you in front of all the knights to boost the morale of the Britannian army.]

[You had thought this would make King Uther realize Morgan's importance, but he turned his gaze toward you.]

[He intended to have a private talk with you.]