Simulator in Type-moon, Starting with becoming Morgan husband!

Chapter 66: That Day, the King of Camelot Has a Night of Drunkenness

[You didn't expect Artoria to come to you at this hour.]

[Even more so, you didn't expect her to dare wear a white dress, emphasizing the femininity of a young maiden, when seeking you out at this time.]

[After all, at a time when she is preparing to inherit the throne of Camelot, if her female identity were to be discovered, the consequences would be obvious.]

[Broadly speaking, even though Artoria is not regarded as a woman due to Merlin's Magecraft, if her manner of dress were revealed, public opinion would undoubtedly descend into chaos.]

[However, at the same time, you also recognize this as a manifestation of Artoria's determination.]

[Perhaps she had resolved to meet you tonight.]

Ian felt a swirl of conflicting emotions in his heart.

As the one who maintained the last remnants of Artoria's feelings, he understood that all of this was an expression of the passion she should have had at her age.

It was only the heavy burden of destiny that had made her this way.

"Artoria…"

Before Ian could finish speaking, she opened her heart first.

"Sir Ian, do you not actually want to see me?"

Artoria lowered her head.

Her hands clenched together—a gesture of sadness.

"I understand that, so I won't ask for anything."

"I came here only to say that if we don't meet tonight, it's fine. I have no other intentions."

"…"

Ian felt something stir in his heart.

The storm of emotions that had settled began to rise again.

"Sir Ian, I've said what I wanted to."

Artoria's voice was low as she declared her decision.

"Then I won't trouble you anymore. Good night."

The sorrowful girl stepped past Ian, her golden ponytail and little ahoge drooping as if weighed down by her sadness.

Just as they were about to part, Ian reached out and took hold of her.

"Don't go, Artoria."

"Since you're already here, let's talk for a bit."

Artoria immediately turned back, her delicate face filled with uncontrollable joy.

"Sir Ian!"

The young girl embraced Ian tightly, burying her face in his chest—a sturdy and unyielding refuge.

Ian looked at her, hesitated for a moment, and then gently extended his arms to pat her back, silently offering her comfort.

To be honest—

This was a very risky act.

If anyone saw "King Lot" and the future heir to the throne embracing in front of the princess's chambers, by the next day, all of Camelot would be abuzz with the news—even the ants crawling on the ground might know about it.

However—

Everyone has moments when they must take risks.

Especially when it's for a girl who has entrusted her last remnants of emotion to him.

Fortunately, fate did not abandon the two of them.

The quiet corridor was devoid of any other figures.

Artoria gradually calmed down.

She released Ian, took a few steps back, her face slightly flushed, and spoke softly.

"Sir Ian, thank you."

"Hugging you feels so warm."

"Mm." Ian nodded. "That's good, then."

"…"

"…"

A moment of silence.

Artoria couldn't bear the stillness.

She glanced toward the door of the adjacent room and initiated a new topic.

"Ah, she's not here, is she?"

"She's not."

"Then—"

Artoria reached out to touch the door.

"Sir Ian, may I take a look inside?"

"Huh?" Ian frowned.

"I don't mean anything by it!" Artoria quickly waved her hands defensively. "I… I just want to see what the place you stay in looks like!"

"If not, just pretend I didn't ask!"

[You realize this is a major turning point in your life.]

[By all reasonable logic, you absolutely shouldn't let Artoria into this room.]

[But in this moment, you also sense a troubling possibility in her request.]

[Could it be possible to subtly implant Morgan's ambition for the throne into Artoria's heart, so she places all her trust in you right now?]

[After much consideration, you decide not to abandon this possibility.]

[You know that in this moment, you feel ashamed of yourself.]

[But for Morgan's throne, you will stop at nothing.]

[You open the door and lead Artoria inside.]

[You know that crossing boundaries will inevitably follow.]

"This is where Sir Ian stays?"

Artoria curiously glanced around.

"Why are there so many of her belongings here?"

"Because this isn't my room." Ian explained. "Naturally, there wouldn't be much of my stuff here."

"Then—"

Artoria sat down on the bed, gently swinging her legs.

"Sir Ian, you could come to my room next time."

"There, I could leave plenty of your things."

"…"

Ian forced a faint smile.

"Sure, I'll consider it when there's a chance."

Hearing this, Artoria's eyes lit up slightly. In her gaze, there was a hint of mischief typical of someone her age—something Ian noticed instantly.

"Sir Ian!"

Artoria patted the spot next to her on the bed—Morgan's bed, to be precise.

"Can you sit here?"

"…"

Ian said nothing more and simply complied.

As soon as he sat down, Artoria placed her hand on his.

The sensation was somewhat like Morgan's, but softer.

"Sir Ian, do you still remember your promise?"

"You said… you'd teach me how to be a girl."

Looking at her hand resting on his, Ian hesitated briefly before responding:

"Yes, I remember."

"Then—"

"Sir Ian, I have an idea. Could you help me try it out?"

Ian barely nodded, then Artoria leaned toward him.

Her soft lips, carrying a hint of shyness, pressed against the older man's.

But she wasn't timid; on the contrary, she was far more assertive than before.

She guided his hand, which she had just grasped moments ago, slowly upward toward the top of her white dress.

It was the part she always had to carefully conceal.

When he touched it—

The tightening of his fingers signaled her success.

Artoria was overwhelmed by an unprecedented sense of happiness.

However—

That happiness didn't last long.

Because Ian quickly withdrew his hand and ended their kiss.

He silently looked at her, and after a long pause, he finally spoke:

"Artoria, are you imitating Morgan?"

"Ah? Wha—!"

She was caught.

And not just partially but completely.

Artoria was indeed imitating Morgan's actions.

She didn't know how to be the kind of woman Ian desired.

So, she resorted to imitation.

Because she had witnessed how Ian was enchanted by Morgan.

If she simply followed suit, surely, it would yield the same results, right?

"Sir Ian, I can explain!"

Panicked at being caught, Artoria hurriedly tried to clarify everything to Ian.

But he gently patted her head and replied:

"There's no need to explain."

"Artoria, I understand what you're trying to do."

"But I think you should also understand that mere imitation is meaningless. It's like swordsmanship—only by stepping out on your own and truly comprehending something can you genuinely master it."

"But—"

Artoria lowered her head.

"I don't know how to comprehend it."

"That's fine."

Ian stood up.

"You'll understand soon enough."

[You walk over to where the wine is kept.]

[You take an exquisitely crafted glass and fill it with fine wine.]

[The purple liquid swirled in the glass, forming tiny ripples. Its fragrance wafted through the air, making the entire room feel like it was immersed in a sea of flowers.]

[You hold the glass of wine and return to Artoria.]

In front of the girl, Ian took a sip of wine.

He shrugged and spoke to Artoria:

"Do you want to try it?"

"This wine is made from the best grapes in Camelot."

"Alright."

Artoria replied, then took the glass of wine from Ian's hand.

She gently swirled the wine, bringing the part Ian had just drunk towards herself.

She swallowed a large gulp of wine, her throat slightly trembling.

This was the first time she felt this free.

After all, back in the village, her foster father, Ector, never allowed her to do such things.

The wine, although delicious, was a poison that could paralyze knights.

However—

Artoria looked at the man before her.

For him, perhaps it wouldn't matter?

"How does the wine taste?" Ian's voice rang out.

"Very, very delicious!"

Artoria quickly answered.

"To be able to taste such wonderful wine from Sir Ian, I am truly delighted!"

"Then that's good."

Ian gently caressed Artoria's cheek, his gaze carrying a hint of complex emotions.

He knew he was doing something quite vile.

But at this point, there was no turning back.

"Artoria, do you know, you look really cute right now."

"Really?"

The girl blushed at the compliment, unable to tell whether it was the effect of the wine or the growing love in her heart.

"Really."

Ian placed the wine glass on the round table next to the bed, turned around, and with a bit of force, easily pushed Artoria onto the bed.

He stood over her, speaking in an unyielding tone:

"Artoria, if it's just that promise, it's actually not as complicated as you think."

"As long as you realize that you don't always have to be strong, that's a good start."

"Just like now, in my eyes, you are a real girl."

"Really?"

Artoria's eyes were now hazy.

"Sir Ian... perhaps I understand what I should do now."

"Yeah, that's good."

"And—" Ian's gaze held an impure intent.

"Artoria, when you inherit the throne, you will definitely be able to enjoy wine even better than this."

"So, don't be so surprised."

"But, Sir Ian..."

Artoria looked up at him.

"For me, the wine you tasted is the best wine."

"No." Ian shook his head. "Artoria, you can't think like that."

"There are still many things I haven't touched, and you must bear the responsibilities you need to face, handle the enemies that this kingdom must confront."

"Sir Ian, do you want me to kill the enemies for you?"

"Not just for me, but for Camelot as well."

Ian knew very well that he wasn't noble like that.

He was just a vile man, a pervert who craved the princess's body.

He hid his personal intentions behind his goal for Camelot, making everything seem natural and reasonable.

But after saying these words, Ian realized there was still a part of the knight's soul left within him.

Was it beginning to waver again?

It couldn't be like this.

In his heart, there was only Morgan.

"Artoria, do you understand what I mean?" he said.

[Lying on Morgan's bed, Artoria blushed as she looked at him.]

[You don't know what her silence means—Did she see through you? Or is she refusing to acknowledge this?]

[Luckily, this situation didn't last long.]

[She gave her answer.]

"I understand, Sir Ian."

Artoria wrapped her arms around Ian's neck.

Compared to Morgan, who was full of lust, she carried more of the innocence typical of her age.

It was because of love that she embraced his neck.

"I will surely bring victory to Camelot."

"But before that, you will always be by my side, right?"

Ian didn't respond, just smiled lightly.

He would never easily swear allegiance to anyone but Morgan.

However, this smile was enough to create an illusion for Artoria.

"Thank you, Sir Ian."

"Now, I feel braver."

"Ah, Sir Ian."

Artoria lay on the bed, looking at the wine glass on the round table beside her—it still had half a glass of delicious wine.

"Let's finish it."

"This is the first time I've tried this kind of wine, and it seems I can't forget it."

"Well, if that's the case—"

Ian raised his hand and took the glass of wine, gently swirling it.

The liquid in his hand swirled, forming a small vortex.

"Artoria, would you like to try a different way of drinking?"

"A different way?"

"Yes."

One of Ian's hands rested on the girl's legs, where the white stockings covered her.

"Wine doesn't necessarily have to be drunk through the mouth."

"Since you like this flavor, perhaps a more intimate contact would be a better choice, don't you think?"

Artoria blushed, but immediately turned her face away, nodding shyly.

"Sir Ian..... then let's do as you say."

[The white flower-like dress was gently lifted by the girl.]

[The pure garden touched the transparent glass, opening a small path.]

[The purple wine bottle swayed, eventually tilting and pouring out.]

[It flowed like a stream deep into the garden, as if it wanted to keep all the fragrance here.]

[Soon, there would be a completely intoxicated girl on Morgan bed.]

[It was the best vessel for holding fine wine.]