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Chapter 39: Chapter 39. The Princess Fails Once Again



Chapter 39. The Princess Fails Once Again

"Ian, why aren't you saying anything?"

Morgan looked at the man standing before her—someone who had endured countless hardships for her—and asked in dissatisfaction.

After all, her initial imagination was that after she finished speaking, Ian would surely react with astonishment and delight.

At the very least, he should be a little surprised.

This silence was no different from saying, "Not interested."

"Do you not like this?" Morgan asked again.

"Not at all." Ian shook his head hastily. "I just didn't expect the Princess would want me to experience this surprise first."

"I thought you'd only let me see you in a wedding dress on our wedding day."

"So right now, my heart is in chaos. I don't even know what to say to express how moved I am at this moment."

"That's simple."

"Express it through action."

Morgan's ocean-blue eyes fell upon Ian, and beneath that gaze burned a faint flame of desire.

She wrapped her arms around Ian's neck, forming a circle.

"I haven't forgotten how I 'lost' to you that day."

"I won't allow you to win and then run away."

"Ah, understood, Princess."

[Morgan pulled you along the palace hallway, striding openly and confidently.]

[Many maids looked at you with regretful eyes—after all, if your wife was Morgan, they'd have no chance whatsoever.]

[Morgan felt a deep sense of pride, but outwardly, she maintained a cold demeanor, as if marrying you was nothing to be happy about.]

[You understood this well, so you cooperated, putting on an appropriately modest expression.]

[Maintaining this dynamic, the two of you finally arrived at the room.]

"Did you see the looks on their faces?" Morgan sat on the edge of the bed.

"One glance and I could tell they definitely had designs on you. I'll have to kill all of them."

"Just need to pick a date."

"There's no need for that, Princess." Ian stopped her. "Right now isn't the best time to cause such a stir."

"Besides—"

"I have no interest in their gazes at all. No matter how regretful they feel, it has nothing to do with me."

"Really?"

Morgan gave Ian a probing look, the man who had sworn loyalty to her.

She remained seated on the edge of the bed. Her long, slender legs emerged gracefully from beneath her dress, her snow-white skin dazzling.

"Then I'll temporarily believe your explanation."

"Now, come and help me put on the wedding dress."

"Yes, I understand, Princess."

[You and Morgan stand in front of the mirror.]

[You wrap your arms around her waist, sensing the fragrance from her body.]

[In her room, there are many roses that you have given her.]

[But you feel that the scent of those flowers is insignificant compared to her fragrance.]

"Princess, I beg your pardon."

After Ian said that, his hand started moving from her waist, along her magnificent body, and down.

The soft fabric began to rub against her skin, making a rustling sound, which seemed very intriguing.

The princess stood upright in front of the mirror, beneath her feet were the most luxurious garments of Camelot, forming a circle like flowers, surrounding her legs.

Morgan had never lost her inherent beauty, especially in moments like this when she was alone.

Her collarbone was distinct, with slight dips that seemed like her very origin, like a lake in the forest.

Her breasts naturally shaped and full, beautifully creating seductive curves.

The proud beauty of Princess Britannia was clearly visible, her body was so perfect that it rivaled any other woman's.

Her waist was slim, firm with no excess fat, the skin slightly taut, forming a very cute navel.

Below that, her skin was as bright as usual, those who were perfect might look like this.

Her legs stood on the clean floor of the room, but they seemed even cleaner than the ground itself.

Morgan touched Ian's hand, her fingers gently caressing, her voice both close and distant in a seductive tone.

"Ian, do I look beautiful?"

"You are absolutely stunning, Princess." Ian bowed his head, resting on Morgan's shoulder, taking a deep breath.

"You are so beautiful that I wonder if I am dreaming."

"Then prove this is not a dream."

Morgan softly breathed into Ian's ear.

"Ian, fight against me once more, prove that even when standing, you still have that same intensity."

"Understood, Princess."

A knight never dies unarmed.

They always have their own weapons.

In the mirror, Morgan and Ian were tightly embracing each other, looking very intimate.

She closed her eyes, her hands firmly held by Ian, her lips pressed tightly against his, the bite marks still clearly visible.

Her heels had left the ground, only her toes were stumbling.

"Princess, your voice is so pleasant to hear, perhaps now is the best time to sing."

"Silence, knight, it's not yet time for your thoughts on victory."

"I will defeat you before you defeat me."

[The truth shows that, in this matter, Morgan still overestimated herself.]

[When Ian was truly serious, he was no longer as humble as usual.]

[She realized she had raised a terrible monster.]

[Once again, she lost.]

[And lost miserably.]

[The dew of Britannia fell to the floor following the princess legs.]

The second rule of the knight: When Morgan wants to win, it is better for you to think about how to lose while still satisfying her.

"Ian, you must be very happy to have beaten me, right?"

"Not happy."

"Then will you dare to win again next time?"

"Not dare."

"Very well, then I'll reward you with a bit of time to think."

Morgan sat on Ian's lap, holding the push-up position, her face showing displeasure as she spoke.

"Ian, why do you insist on beating me in this matter?"

"Today you will not see the wedding dress."

"But, Princess, this is a matter of a man's basic pride."

"I don't want to hear this." Morgan pulled Ian's ear.

"I just want to beat you in this once, is that a problem?"

"Princess, there is no problem."

Seeing Ian's submissive appearance, Morgan finally let go of his ear.

She also thought of a few things.

"Ian, I have an idea now."

"Please speak, Princess."

"It is..."

Morgan wrote her name on Ian's back with her finger.

She seemed a little anxious and vague about what she was about to say, but in the end, she spoke seriously.

"I want to write a letter to my father."

"Tell him that you are my husband."


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