Looking back on her life, Morgan's existence could be divided into two distinct periods. The first was her girlhood, during which she enjoyed the blessings of Great Britain and flourished as a rare and exceptional Witch.
Rumor had it that she was the most promising candidate to become the ruler of Great Britain, destined to transcend her mortal form and ascend as the Faerie Queen, Vivian.
During this period, she also basked in the love of her father, the Duke, and her mother, the Duchess.
The second period of her life began when King Uther sought to seize her mother.
Driven by Merlin's machinations and the desire to forge the Fated King prophesied for Great Britain's future, everything Morgan possessed was stripped away. Despite bearing the blessing to rule, she was forcibly married to a Vassal King she despised...
Having lost everything, how could Morgan possibly not harbor resentment?
"Guinevere, let go of me!"
Murderous intent radiated from Morgan's voice. All she wanted now was to escape. If Guinevere persisted in blocking her path, she wouldn't hesitate to destroy them both.
Guinevere had never been one to back down from threats. Continuing to support Morgan, she forcibly pressed her into the throne and spoke directly to her:
"Even if you hate me more, even if our relationship reverts to square one, I can't let you leave right now."
Guinevere could see that after Morgan's attempts to provoke the King of Knights failed, it was Morgan who had suffered a major shock. If she didn't forcibly keep her here now, any chance of improving Morgan's relationship with the King of Knights would become even more distant.
Even after being pressed into the chair, Morgan continued to struggle. The Magic-Sealing Necklace around her neck glowed, but she ultimately couldn't break free. Her plan for a suicidal gamble was doomed.
After a long while, Morgan grew weary and stopped resisting. The anger and affection had vanished from her gaze, replaced only by cold indifference. She loathed this feeling of being controlled and dominated.
Even when Guinevere released her grip and brought her favorite dish to her lips, she refused to open her mouth.
No resistance, no cooperation—only a simmering resolve to reclaim dominance someday.
"Foolish sister, what are you staring at? Enjoying my humiliation so much?"
Guinevere withdrew the offered dish and ate it herself, further infuriating Morgan. She couldn't resist the urge to unleash her fury on the King of Knights as well.
From the moment Morgan entered, the King of Knights had been watching her intently.
Not long ago, when Guinevere suggested having dinner with Morgan, the King of Knights had objected. But Guinevere insisted that as sisters, they should reconcile, saying:
"Don't worry, I'll be there. Just observe Lady Morgan closely and see if she truly is the malicious Witch you remember."
At the time, the King of Knights had retorted, pointing out the many cruel and foolish acts Morgan had committed against her since she drew the sword and claimed the throne.
But now...
As the King of Knights scrutinized Morgan, she realized her sister's anger manifested in such an unexpected way.
"Hmm, I just think you're unexpectedly... adorable, Sister."
"Huh?"
Morgan was stunned, utterly baffled by the compliment and even more perplexed by how her wooden-like younger sister could utter such words.
She watched as the King of Knights continued to stare intently, a faint smile flickering in her eyes.
In that moment, Morgan panicked, as if she suddenly remembered she still had family who cared for her—and that this caring relative was none other than the sister she despised most.
"I mean, you're both adorable, really."
Still holding onto Morgan, Guinevere lifted her gaze and met the King of Knights' eyes.
Thinking of the King of Knights' usual sternness, and the fact that she could now say such things with a smile, Guinevere felt nothing but satisfaction.
The King of Knights could say this, ultimately, because she harbored no malice toward Morgan and, under Guinevere's guidance, had begun to appreciate the beauty of girls.
But the King of Knights and Guinevere's adorableness...
...only added fuel to the fire, forcing Guinevere to clutch Morgan even tighter.
"You... you bastards! I'll kill you both sooner or later!"
-
Back in Guinevere's eyes, with the two 'Artorias'—one large and one small—by her side...
The younger one was happily devouring her homemade meal, savoring every bite. The elder still wore a cold expression, this time refusing to even open her eyes.
Guinevere wanted to say...
It seems it's working. Even arguing is better than not speaking to each other at all.
"Hey, hey, hey, Lia, say the words I just taught you! Just say them once, and I'll unconditionally grant you one wish, no matter what it is."
Eating with elegant speed, the King of Knights had been starving since noon.
But when Guinevere made this demand, the King of Knights' cheeks flushed crimson. She glanced at Morgan, whose eyelids Guinevere was forcibly holding open.
After a moment's hesitation, the King of Knights first checked the doors and windows to ensure no one could eavesdrop or see inside. Then, she peeled a hard-boiled egg with her own hands and brought it to Morgan's lips, using the deliberately gentle voice Guinevere had insisted upon.
"Sis-ter, w-won't you have a bite...?"
As these uncharacteristically girlish words escaped her lips, the King of Knights shivered, as if ants were crawling over her skin. Without waiting for Morgan's response, she thrust the boiled egg into Guinevere's hand and buried her face in her food, devouring it ravenously.
Meanwhile, Morgan no longer needed Guinevere to pry open her eyelids. The murderous glint in her eyes had vanished, replaced by a blank stare that quickly dissolved into amusement.
This time, she easily pushed Guinevere away, clutching her stomach and laughing uncontrollably. She laughed so hard she collapsed to the ground, her body curling into a shrimp-like shape.
The King of Knights' "sister" had stunned her speechless. The King of Knights' mortified expression was as refreshing as a cool breeze on a sweltering summer day.
"Artoria, look at yourself! Do you still consider yourself a King?"
"Of course Lia is," Guinevere replied.
"I believe I am," the King of Knights added.
Morgan, exhausted from laughter, uttered this challenge from the ground. Guinevere and the King of Knights responded almost simultaneously, nearly causing Morgan to choke. Guinevere had to pat her back vigorously for a while.
"Lady Morgan," Guinevere said, "has anyone ever decreed that a king must never smile? I once read a line in a certain work...
A true king should laugh louder and rage fiercer than anyone else.
Only then will his subjects envy and adore him, and the light of aspiration—'I, too, wish to be king'—will ignite in the hearts of all under heaven."
The words Guinevere spoke now were originally said by Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, to the King of Knights in the future, but she had omitted the parts she disagreed with.
She didn't believe...
Whether pure or sullied, a King must ascend to the pinnacle.
She believed...
"My King should be noble, just, and unburdened by personal desires. One who places the welfare of all people above all else, and who will usher in an era of peace and prosperity for all under the heavens."
For the first time, Guinevere revealed her true feelings without reservation. Her words left Morgan speechless, and even the King of Knights doubted her own ability to become the ruler Guinevere envisioned.
"I know I'm asking for the impossible, but Lia has already achieved the latter half of my ideal. She is noble, just, and willing to sacrifice even her humanity to become a worthy King. Moreover, she genuinely desires an era of peace and prosperity.
That's why I love Lia and will follow her.
That's why I long to see her laugh more joyfully, rage more fiercely, live her own life fully, and truly become the King I've always envisioned.
That's why I will personally mold Lia into the King I envision."
Morgan's question had led Guinevere to this point. Now, her words turned back to Morgan, as she asked a question that had been burning within her for a long time:
"Lady Morgan, you said earlier that you wanted to become King, but now you say that a King shouldn't be like Lia just was.
So, what kind of King do you aspire to be?"