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

[You received King Uther's sword sheath, and he allowed you to sheathe the blade he had knocked aside with his bare hands.]

Knight's Chivalry: You have regained your status as a knight, recognized once again by King Uther. You swore an oath to him, promising to protect Morgan with all that you have.

King Uther does not doubt your words.

He has witnessed your loyalty, your willingness to give your life for Morgan, making it clear to him that you could never betray her.

[After bowing, you left King Uther's presence.]

Morgan was waiting for you outside, surprised to see you without shackles.

As her most loyal knight, you did not hide anything from her.

You told her of King Uther's understanding of the war and conveyed his opinion of her.

"…"

Morgan bit her lower lip.

After a long pause, she asked in a trembling voice, "Ian, is this true? Did Father really say that?"

Ian fully understood Morgan's feelings at that moment.

But as her most loyal knight, he could not allow himself to lie to her.

"Yes, Your Highness, that is exactly what the King said about you."

"…"

Morgan's beautiful face twisted for a moment—being judged this way by her own father was enough to make anyone react similarly.

Ian could see the deep resentment in Morgan's heart.

But as a knight, he didn't know what else to do.

"Ian…" Morgan forced herself to remain composed. "Do you think the same now?"

"No."

Ian denied it without hesitation.

"Your Highness, no matter what I've heard, in my heart, you are still the most suitable ruler for Britain."

"…"

Morgan turned her face away.

"Ian, you really are a foolish man."

[In the following days, Morgan did not summon you again.]

[Under King Uther's orders, you were freed, even though you should have been treated as a war criminal, and you were allowed to walk freely in the camp as a knight.]

[This puzzled the other knights, who began speculating about King Uther's reasons for such a decision.]

[Finally, they came to a conclusion: As a former minion of the White Dragon, you had been subdued by King Uther's royal dignity and were willing to join Britain's forces.]

[This was undoubtedly good news—if Britain's king could subdue even the White Dragon's followers, the war's outcome seemed clear.]

[However, you, who knew the truth, understood that from the moment the war began, it had already veered onto a different path.]

[Yet, when you thought about the possibility that the outcome might have nothing to do with Morgan, you found that you no longer cared about what came next.]

[However, there was one sin that you knew you had to atone for.]

In the camp, the knights were murmuring.

"Hey, do you know what that madman under Vortigern is doing now?"

"No idea… but it doesn't seem right. I still don't get why the king let someone like that go free."

"Shh… don't say too much."

As the knights speculated, Ian was engraving names onto a massive stone—the names of all the knights of Britain whom he had killed during the war.

Of course, he wasn't as remarkable as King Uther, able to remember all their names.

For those he could only vaguely recall, he used symbols as substitutes.

Ian knew that this wouldn't change anything, but as the one responsible for their deaths, he couldn't simply forget it all.

[Persistence often earns respect.]

[Your actions, engraving the names into the stone, gradually gained acceptance from the other knights. They realized you were recording something important.]

Affection for Evil has been replaced with Affection for Persistence: Your continued dedication has caused the knights to accept you little by little, and they began to view you as one of their own.

They offered to help you, but you politely refused.

Mourning was a personal responsibility, and you did not want others to share in your guilt.

During the day, you carved names into the stone, offering apologies to each innocent knight who had fallen, begging them to vent their hatred of Morgan on you.

At night, you faithfully obeyed King Uther's orders, guarding Morgan's tent without fail.

You understood all of Morgan's pain, so you never disturbed her, protecting her in the most loyal manner possible.

The Claws of the White Dragon talent has been lost: Your displays of loyalty have led the knights of Britain to no longer consider you a servant of Vortigern.

Rumors began to spread throughout the camp that the former follower of the White Dragon had been thoroughly defeated by the Princess. You neither confirmed nor denied this.

After all, you knew that you had indeed succumbed to Morgan's influence, becoming her most loyal knight.

King Uther's final ultimatum had been issued.

Princess Morgan was ordered to immediately withdraw from the front lines and return to the royal court, and you were to accompany her as her escort.

This astonished the other knights, as Morgan was known for her bravery in battle.

But no one dared to question the King's orders, for that would be treason.

"Your Highness, please be careful."

Ian respectfully helped Morgan onto her horse. Only after ensuring she was completely safe did he mount his own.

Under the gaze of the knights, the two of you left the front lines of Britain's battlefield.

The sound of horse hooves echoed, leaving tracks in the road.

Fully aware of Morgan's mood, Ian said nothing along the way.

He silently cleared the path for his Princess.

You crossed streams, cut through brambles, and journeyed through days and nights.

The two of you left a trail on the windy plains as you rode together, the knight and the princess side by side.

Eventually, riding ahead, Ian stood on a high hill, looking into the distance.

Turning back, he spoke respectfully to Morgan:

"Your Highness, after just a little more travel, we will return to the capital."

"You will receive the safest protection there."

However, at that moment, Morgan hesitated.

Ian noticed this but did not speak.

He remembered well what Morgan had said before—a knight should only know what the Princess allowed him to know.

After a long silence, Morgan finally spoke.

She tightened her reins and, in a slightly sorrowful voice, said:

"Ian."

"Can we... not return for a while?"