Artoria still remembered clearly: the night before the "White Dragon Battle," she unguardedly took the potion Morgan le Fay had concocted, and coupled with the special power of the "Contract of Fate EX", one could say that was an absolutely certain-death situation.
At that time, if Alvin had led the Saxons into the palace and used the Contract of Fate's special power to restrain her actions, the throne of Arthur might really have changed hands.
And Morgan le Fay would have become the desired "consort."
Faced with a throne and a beauty almost within reach, he chose another path: to go to his death.
Even now, Artoria was still extremely troubled by that question.
Or rather, it wasn't trouble. She already knew the answer in her heart, she only wanted to hear the boy say it with his own mouth.
"Do you need a reason to like someone?"
Then she heard the answer she had been thinking of.
Artoria froze for a moment, then a little awkwardly averted her gaze.
"That kind of coaxing words won't work on me."
Then she spoke in as calm a tone as she could.
Although she said that, a faint blush clearly showed on that noble, beautiful face.
'Lily seemed to have only the mouth acting tough,' Alvin thought to himself.
At this, Artoria suddenly asked softly, "Don't you regret it? That was the throne."
"What's there to regret? I'm not interested in that position," Alvin was very frank.
Not everyone is interested in power. At least Alvin had no interest in being a ruler.
But whether because of something he said wrong or for some other reason, Artoria suddenly pressed on the youth's shoulder, shifting from the position of being pushed down to the active one, straddling Alvin.
"Don't worry, I don't blame you," Sensing Alvin's shocked look, Artoria smiled and said, "My sister was once called the empire's greatest beauty by the nobles; not just men, even many women adored her."
"I was only asking out of curiosity just now."
'Yeah, right,' Alvin was full of sarcastic thoughts.
His instinct told him that if any option had gone wrong just now, he might already have been in bed.
Artoria said softly, "But thinking back, I was indeed quite greedy."
She had become Arthur King, knew her sister's feelings then, yet she still kept Alvin by her side.
Back then she had everything, while Morgan Le Fay only had her magic workshop.
"Greedy for what?"
Alvin's voice pulled Artoria from her thoughts.
Artoria bowed her head and looked at the youth gently, then said softly, "If I had another chance, I might give up pulling the sword from the stone."
"But now it's too late."
It wasn't for the throne's power; it was because so many people had paid so much along the way. Now she bore not only the empire but the expectations of those in the palace.
"I never intended to make you give up the throne."
Alvin smiled, "If you gave up the throne now, the empire would surely plunge into chaos."
Artoria fell silent for a moment. She placed a hand on the sofa behind the boy and slowly lowered her head.
Her golden hair fell smoothly, and a gentle smile soon appeared on that breathtakingly beautiful face.
Thump! Thump!
Watching the golden-haired woman draw closer bit by bit, Alvin's heart beat faster; his gaze involuntarily stared at that noble, beautiful visage.
Moist breath, slightly parted red lips.
Their breaths gently brushed each other's faces; the room suddenly filled with ambiguous atmosphere.
At last she softly kissed the youth's lips.
Lips met teeth, breathing quick.
The pleasant sensation seemed to blank Alvin's mind for an instant.
But before he could properly savor it, Artoria already released him.
"Sorry!"
Then a low voice sounded in his ear.
"What are you apologizing for?", Alvin asked instinctively.
"Given the situation, I can no longer give up the throne," Artoria said quietly.
"I know—"
Before he finished, she continued, "But I also don't want to give you up."
In Alvin's stunned moment, she tilted her head and stared into the boy's eyes.
"This greedy... I'm really sorry."
Alvin was stunned for a while, looking at the woman's gentle eyes, stray hair casually on pale skin, bright red lips adding an indescribable charm to her aloof face.
For some reason his heart beat faster.
Alvin suddenly put his hand on Artoria's shoulder and, to her surprised look, gently pushed the majestic queen down onto the sofa.
"Alvin, you—"
Artoria opened her eyes, but before she could finish, the boy kissed her soft red lips.
Her body stiffened briefly, then slowly relaxed.
The air filled with an intense, ambiguous scent until all that could be heard were the enticing sounds of their kissing.
———
[Afternoon, Camelot Empire]
In a quiet magic workshop.
Morgan le Fay lay lazily on a soft couch, playing with the potion she had just brewed and casually looking toward a magic mirror not far away.
Although her face was covered with a thin black veil, it was not hard to judge from that graceful figure what kind of beautiful woman she was.
She wore a court dress embroidered with luxurious patterns on the chest and sleeves. A snow-white arm propped her chin.
Slender, well-proportioned legs hid beneath black stockings, the whiteness of the thigh faintly visible.
Her posture elegant, her temperament noble and refined.
The witch idly hooked a delicate white high heel with her toe and swung it as if nothing mattered.
"Interesting."
As if remembering something, Morgan's lips curved into a seductive smile.
She had come into contact with this batch of transmigrators as well.
Except for a few, most of them, though magi, only used rather poor sorcery.
Compared to the magi of the Age of Gods, or to this witch herself, most modern sorceries were truly "inferior."
Yet among such inferior magi, someone had recently damaged her supreme work.
The Silver Knight, that puppet she had mixed with White Dragon blood.
To destroy the Silver Knight, one must be among the top among transmigrators.
Morgan wasn't angry; rather, she felt some interest toward this person.
She wondered how Gareth had done—
Knock! Knock! Knock!
While Morgan pondered, urgent knocking sounded at the door.
"Is it Gareth, in such a rush?"
Morgan raised an eyebrow and calmly said, "Come in."
———
Creak!
With a soft door sound, armored Gareth entered and saw the woman lounging lazily on the couch.
After furtively observing her "mother" a few times, Gareth's face showed hesitation.
"What's wrong, didn't find the man?", Morgan asked.
Logically, the one who killed the Silver Knight should have been "marked." Gareth, also containing White Dragon blood, should be able to track that transmigrator's trail in the royal city.
'Could it be that the man possesses some special magic to hide their aura?'
While Morgan's thoughts considered this, Gareth hesitated and then said in an uneasy voice, "Using the power you gave me, I did find the person who defeated the Silver Knight in the royal city. As you guessed, he is indeed a transmigrator."
"Only—"
Seeing the girl like this, Morgan already suspected the answer and lightly frowned, "You failed?"
Gareth was young, but still a member of the Round Table. With her strength, she should not have failed to catch a transmigrator.
Before Morgan could speak, Gareth hurried, "I-I did fail. But when I was in the royal city I saw Mordred. She went with me to look for that transmigrator."
The implication was clear: not only did Gareth fail, Mordred did too.
Hearing this, Morgan turned to the girl; her eyes were deep and calm.
"Tell me exactly what happened."
If it were only Gareth's failure, that might be understandable.
But if Mordred also failed, something must have occurred during the process. It would be obvious with a little thought.
Seeing Morgan had no reproach in her tone, Gareth breathed a quiet sigh of relief and hurriedly recounted the events in the royal city.
By the end, Morgan's eyes finally showed some interest.
"So King Arthur not only left the palace today, but she went to see someone?"
"And that person was the transmigrator who killed the Silver Knight?"
After Gareth nodded, Morgan narrowed her eyes slightly.
She knew her sister too well. Since that person died, Arthur had rarely left the palace.
'If Arthur left the palace this time, there must be a reason.'
'Is it related to that transmigrator?'
'Or did she merely pass by by chance?'
"Mother, should we try to save Mordred?", Gareth hesitated.
Morgan shook her head lightly, "As long as she doesn't act recklessly, she will be safer in the palace than anywhere else."
"More than that, I'm interested in the transmigrator you mentioned."
Saying that, Morgan picked up the wine glass, gently swirled it, and idly looked at the girl.
"Did you see his face?"
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