The matter Guinevere had asked Morgan to investigate was, of course, finding a way for two women to have a child without using shapeshifting potions.
But why would Morgan agree to Guinevere's request?
The price Guinevere had promised after the battle outside Hamburgh remained unpaid to this day.
That afternoon, when Guinevere found a moment to visit Morgan's chambers, the fireplace crackled warmly. Clad in a coolly elegant gown, Morgan reclined on a chaise lounge by the window, her gaze lost in the swirling snow outside.
As an exceptionally powerful mage, Morgan sensed the fading of the mystical realm more keenly than the knightly Guinevere and her peers.
"I knew the mystical essence of Great Britain would eventually wane," Morgan mused, "but I never expected it to happen so many years ahead of schedule."
Clad only in a sheer gown and reclining languidly, Morgan's figure lay fully exposed, her curves clearly visible beneath the fabric.
Guinevere entered the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Seeing Morgan in this state, alarm bells rang in her heart, but the message the maid had delivered on Morgan's behalf was too tempting to ignore, forcing her to come.
Composing herself, she surveyed Morgan openly and without hesitation. Morgan's body no longer stirred any longing in Guinevere; instead, it filled her with irritation, making her wish she could drape her own "blanket" over Morgan.
"Sister, it's getting cold. You should put on another layer."
"Hmph, it's not cold in here."
Guinevere couldn't fathom Morgan's thoughts, but as Morgan sat up on the chaise lounge, displaying her figure even more clearly, Guinevere's irritation intensified. She felt an overwhelming urge to flee, terrified the King of Knights would return and find them like this.
Just as she was about to leave and return later, the wind slammed the unlatched door shut, and a peculiar fragrance filled her nostrils.
Guinevere stilled, holding her breath. There couldn't be any natural wind in the room, and the sudden appearance of this scent was too bizarre, reminding her of classic scenes from wuxia novels she'd read in her previous life.
Just as Guinevere was dismissing the possibility of such absurdity, Morgan pointed to a small cake on the vanity table and said:
"I made it exactly as you taught me. Want to try some?"
"Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Guinevere was human; she couldn't hold her breath for long. She wasn't Merlin; she couldn't breathe through gills.
Realizing the fragrant aroma hadn't caused any immediate adverse effects, Guinevere resumed breathing, determined to see what Morgan was planning.
Her strength had grown significantly. The defensive Magecraft that had once blocked her strike, she was now confident she could shatter in an instant.
"Heh, heh heh."
By the window, Morgan chuckled softly, her gaze constantly drifting over Guinevere like she was observing prey she was certain to capture.
"When we first met, you used to steal glances at my abdomen. But lately, you've been looking at me with increasing disdain, as if my possessing this body is somehow defiling my worthless sister.
Guinevere, so you really do like girls after all. And you've actually fallen for her."
Morgan continued speaking, removing her veil as she spoke to reveal a face nearly identical to the King of Knights', but with a more mature air.
Staring into that face, Guinevere saw not the familiar stern resolve, but something that made her want to immediately cover her face with her veil.
But she needed Morgan's help, and this appearance wasn't her fault. Guinevere suppressed her irritation and waited for her to continue speaking.
"You know, your infatuation with the King of Knights would have merely amused me, making you seem like an interesting person. But the problem is, the King of Knights has fallen for you too. She even started smiling more because of you...
Do you think my worthless sister deserves that?!"
They stood barely half a meter apart, locked in a face-to-face confrontation. The fury blazing in Morgan's eyes left no doubt, intensifying Guinevere's sense of impending doom.
Yet Morgan proved even more unhinged than Guinevere had imagined—or perhaps she was willing to do anything to make the King of Knights suffer.
"Don't worry, I won't resort to crude methods like poisoning. That would only give you an excuse to defend yourself to my fool of a sister. Let me be frank: I have indeed found the method you seek. But if you want my help again, you'll have to pay the price first."
The unease in Guinevere's heart lingered, while Morgan's confidence only grew stronger.
"I've thought it through. If I drugged the King of Knights, she'd simply be crushed by guilt, tormented by daily self-reproach. Yet, for the sake of Great Britain, she would still force herself to carry on.
If I drugged myself and did something outrageous to you, it would only make you my sworn enemy. I wouldn't be so foolish.
Therefore, I want you to do something outrageous to me in front of that bastard sister of mine. Then, she'll truly taste the bitter betrayal of someone she loves."
Many plans fall apart once spoken aloud, but Morgan remained utterly convinced of her victory.
"Guinevere, accept this bargain. If you truly want a child with her."
Her composure faltered slightly, the magical energy gathering within her body disrupted by the shock. Guinevere desperately wanted to point her finger at Morgan and shout, "Are you insane?!"
And so, Guinevere did just that.
"Heh heh, heh heh, your frantic expression is truly delicious, Guinevere. I eagerly await the day you finally agree, even if that day is still years away."
Morgan's rare, radiant smile bloomed, delighting in Guinevere's stunned reaction. She began to imagine the King of Knights' heart shattering before her very eyes, collapsing into despair.
Just the thought of it made Morgan salivate with anticipation.
But before that day arrived, before she could indulge her selfish desire to crush the King of Knights' spirit, Morgan couldn't ignore the immediate crisis facing Great Britain.
"Guinevere," she began, "would your Knight Academy be willing to add a Magecraft Department? I don't understand why you're so eager to cultivate power, but I believe your actions are driven by a vision for a better future for Great Britain.
After all, it's not your fault you're infatuated with my fool of a sister, and that fool of a sister insists on shouldering the entire future of Great Britain."
In the end, Morgan didn't remove her thin veil, sparing Guinevere from a confrontation that would have torn their relationship apart.
After considering Morgan's words, Guinevere agreed to establish the Magecraft Department and formally invited Morgan to serve as its instructor.
Guinevere had no reservations about this. As long as it benefited Great Britain, Morgan wouldn't hesitate to contribute her efforts.
"Sister, I entrust the Magecraft Department to you."
Morgan's obsession with the King of Knights gave Guinevere a headache, but aside from that, Morgan was undeniably a good woman, deeply devoted to the nation's welfare.
In any case, if I want to avoid doing things her way, I need to find a way to resolve her animosity toward Lia. Ugh, what a pain.
As she pondered this, the incense she'd been smelling hadn't caused any issues. Before leaving the room, Guinevere made a point of asking:
"Sister, what kind of incense is this?"
Morgan remained silent, relishing Guinevere's growing suspicion. In truth, it was just ordinary incense—the kind used to help insomniacs fall asleep.
Over the past few days, she'd noticed dark circles forming under Guinevere's eyes. After all, Morgan wasn't truly cruel to anyone... except the King of Knights.