There's no way I can lose, right?
Everything was proceeding flawlessly according to her plan.
But...
Why was he still hesitating?
Morgan's usual competitive spirit ignited all at once.
She leaned in close before him and gently exhaled a puff of warm air.
"I said—"
"Didn't you say you really like the scent on me, the one that's like your mother's?"
"Now is the perfect opportunity."
Morgan's words were like sharp arrows, piercing straight into Ian's heart.
Soon, the princess of Britain noticed that the hesitation in his eyes had vanished.
The opportunity had arrived.
"That's right."
"Just like that."
Morgan took Ian's hand, leading him step by step into the shadows.
Their surroundings grew quiet.
At this moment, when the village had been saved, no one would pay much mind to two people hidden in the darkness.
With a soft thud.
Morgan, bringing Ian with her, fell onto the grass.
Her hands wrapped around his neck, her fingertips gently caressing the nape.
"Come on."
"Do what you want to do."
"Tonight, I am the one who cares about you the most."
Morgan had never done anything like this before.
This was her first time.
And yet, in the moment she heard herself speak these words, Morgan felt an immense pleasure.
In her life up to this point, she had always played the role of the one who was forced to lose.
The throne.
Britain.
Everything was being snatched away by that cheap little sister of hers named Artoria.
So what she was doing now wasn't going too far at all, was it?
To be able to take something of Artoria's...
It's wonderful!
This feeling was simply wonderful!
"Can I really do anything?"
Ian looked directly at Morgan, whose arms were wrapped around his neck.
His previously calm eyes now began to flash with a red light.
Morgan could feel it; he was in an extremely unstable emotional state.
Artoria's rejection was likely the "culprit" behind all this.
What a joy...
"Yes, anything."
Morgan's face was slightly flushed.
"Artoria doesn't care about you."
"But I care about you."
The moment her voice fell, Morgan witnessed the terror of a dragon.
His powerful hands were seen tearing to the left and right.
Even hard iron would likely split in two under such force, let alone the clothes worn by a mere girl.
In the darkness, something was thus exposed.
But this was only the beginning.
A low sound rumbled in the boy's throat.
As if on a hunt, the dragon's hands gripped the 'provisions' Morgan offered.
His body heaved up and down.
One breath of hot air after another escaped the boy's mouth.
He opened his mouth, revealing teeth that had, at some point, become incredibly sharp, and fiercely lowered his head.
Morgan's eyes widened.
She hadn't expected him to be this beastly.
But...
A slight smile graced the corners of Morgan's lips.
I love this feeling.
It is only with such a ferocious beast that one can experience such rare pleasure.
The dragon's sharp teeth bit down without mercy, from time to time pulling with immense force. As if it were truly feeding.
But Morgan did not try to stop him in the slightest.
"Yes."
"Just like that—"
"Be more savage, even more savage."
"You are a powerful being. There is no need to suppress yourself for anyone."
"Do whatever you want. That is the real you, the you that should exist in this world."
"ROAR—"
A low cry escaped the boy's throat.
His newly regrown tail continuously beat against the ground, making a powerful sound.
Of course Morgan would not fail to notice such an obvious change.
She had come to understand the method of judgment Tiamat had given her before.
As mother and son, he and she were the same.
As soon as their emotions were stirred, they would revert to their current form.
So strong.
Lying beneath him, Morgan couldn't even move an inch.
He's been holding back.
The princess of Britain clearly realized this at that moment.
"You don't have to hide your thoughts."
"With me, you just have to be your truest self."
"I... happen to like authenticity."
The moment her voice fell, Morgan felt an even more powerful force.
"Ugh..."
A low sound rumbled from the dragon's throat.
And along with it, came Morgan's decadent moans.
"Are you going to bite it right off?"
"How terrifying~"
Morgan said this, but her legs wrapped around the dragon's waist.
And it was because of this.
That she came into contact with something she hadn't touched before.
She was a little surprised.
Should I say, as expected of Tiamat's offspring?
To be so...
Exaggerated.
"Artoria has never given you an opportunity like this, has she?"
Morgan caressed the nape of Ian's neck and asked softly.
"But I can."
"The things she's unwilling to do with you, I can do them all."
"After all—"
A seductive glint flashed in the eyes of the flushed princess.
"She cares more about the position of king than she does about you."
Half-truth, half-lie.
Morgan's eyes reflected the image of him before her, who had already transformed into his dragon form.
"I'm different."
"I care about you."
The dragon raised its head.
The little dragon also raised its head.
Morgan took it all in.
My first time in this life, is it to be offered to a dragon?
It's not entirely out of the question.
To be able to take something of Artoria's, a price like this was nothing at all.
The princess's body trembled slightly.
But her hands, which were wrapped around Ian, held on even tighter than before.
"Come inside—"
"Show me what the power of a dragon truly is," she, covered in bite marks, whispered in his ear.
"You can do it."
However...
Ian just remained poised, as if he hadn't heard Morgan's words at all.
The princess of Britain frowned.
"You don't like me?"
"Does my affection mean nothing to you?"
"It's meaningful."
Ian gripped Morgan's ambitions, which she had used to tempt him, one in each hand, causing them to change shape.
"But, it seems like doing this would make Artoria sad."
"..."
Morgan's face darkened.
What on earth did Artoria do to make this dragon so obedient?
But it didn't matter. As long as he had the mind to be indulgent in front of her, it was only a matter of time.
"Are you not ready yet?"
"Then proving yourself on the outside is also fine."
"I... don't mind."
"Really?"
"Of course it's real."
Morgan freed a hand and, pretending to be generous, moved it all the way down the dragon's back.
"I will slowly make you accept it."
"..."
It really is big.
Morgan confirmed this fact once again.
But, more than that—
Feeling the hem of her skirt, which had been half-dampened by the dragon, the princess who insisted on fighting against her fate had an even crueler thought.
If Artoria were to sense what happened...
What kind of expression would she have?