To outsiders, it seemed as though Morris and the Queen of Fastar had nothing more than an ordinary sovereign-and-knight relationship, with Morris being just one among the several outstanding knights under Her Majesty’s command.
But only Morris himself knew that the queen, who was always dignified and proper in front of others, had a side as mischievous as a silver luan in private.
Whenever there was some new game to try, it was always she who suggested it, and Morris, her subordinate, who had to play along.
The title of ‘Queen’ might be lofty and unattainable for others, but not for Morris.
He wasn’t moved just because Her Majesty Elvira, such a powerful queen, was willing to lower herself to a captive like him.
After all, back in his homeland, he had already served another queen.
…That being said, Morris couldn’t just say so openly, or else Elvira, who now appeared gentle, would surely fly into a jealous rage and take even more outrageous actions against him.
So Morris simply strove to keep calm, feigning complete indifference as he replied:
“…Not much, Elvira. Rather than wasting time on such dull things, I’d be far more grateful if you’d just remove my restraints—at least the ones not on my face.”
“Still as stubborn as ever. But your sword at your side is pretty stiff too, you know? I bet your heart just skipped a beat, didn’t it?”
As Morris spoke, Elvira drew back again, shifting from whispering by his ear to facing him up close, as before.
The difference now was that Elvira’s face bore even greater composure and triumph.
It was only natural; no matter how you listened, Morris’s words were nothing more than stubborn denial.
And indeed, that was exactly the case.
Morris was deliberately playing stubborn.
His purpose was to amuse this wicked woman.
On the surface, it looked like a cunning witch toying with her knight.
But in truth, it was the knight who had the witch wrapped around his finger.
“……”
“Hehe~ What’s wrong, Morris? Why won’t you look me in the eye? Come on, resist me like you did before.”
“…Such a bother. If you’re going to start, then hurry up.”
Morris knew full well how to please Elvira—or, more precisely, where her sore spots were.
In his current state as a captive, as long as he didn’t bring up any other women, Elvira’s sense of conquest and victory would be satisfied.
But if he hurried her instead, Elvira would do the opposite and slow down.
“Don’t be so impatient, my dear captive. We haven’t seen each other in three years, after all. Why don’t we chat for a bit? Actually, let’s talk about that woman, shall we?”
Just as Morris expected, the witch who had been about to get serious slowed down again, watching his impatient face with amusement as she teased him about the Queen of Fastar.
Of course, if Morris himself brought up another woman, Elvira, with her strong possessiveness, would never forgive him and would surely punish him.
But as long as she was the one who mentioned it, it was fine.
That was just how capricious and unreasonable Elvira was.
“……”
Morris responded with silence once more, making it clear he didn’t want to discuss the topic.
But in the end, it made no difference to what would happen next.
“That woman must be terribly anxious right now, huh? Her most trusted knight has vanished mysteriously. How pitiful~”
“But that’s what she gets—if you steal someone else’s man, you’ll have to pay it back eventually. If she doesn’t even understand such a basic principle, then even as a queen she’s nothing more than third-rate.”
“Ah, but I will admit, her looks and figure are first-rate, even if she can’t compare to me. She’s still something of a beauty, I suppose.”
“If I could, I’d really like to let her see just how intimate we are right now. I bet at first she’d be so shocked she’d forget herself and yell at us, utterly disgracing herself as a queen~ And as we grew even more loving, she’d probably start sobbing in shame and lose all composure~ Hehe, just imagining it is delightful~!”
No matter how little Morris responded, Elvira—perched on his lap like a lover—grew more and more enthusiastic.
She fixed her eyes on Morris’s face, mercilessly slandering the Queen of Fastar.
Of course, the Queen of Fastar couldn’t hear a word Elvira was saying.
She was clearly doing it all for Morris, the loyal knight.
As a knight of the Queen of Fastar, hearing someone speak of his queen like that, Morris ought to be livid with shame and anger.
And indeed, Morris nearly lost his composure and broke into laughter.
Elvira liked to think of herself as Morris’s rightful owner, as if she had come first and was the true victim.
But in her own telling, it was obvious she was the one playing the part of the jealous “other woman,” while the Queen of Fastar was the actual “wronged wife.”
And in Elvira’s view, the Queen of Fastar was nothing but a typical incompetent and pitiful victim.
Truly, she was the arrogant and willful Witch Queen, unable to take any other queen seriously, no matter how young, beautiful, or talented they might be.
But if you asked Morris, that queen wouldn’t act the way Elvira described at all; rather, she’d probably watch with great interest from the side.
After all, that queen often asked Morris to play “defeated games” with her—such a textbook scenario would be a perfect reference for her.
In fact, just a few days ago, Morris had heard Her Majesty say she’d like to try being the victor for once, and have Morris play the loser.
Still, Morris couldn’t actually laugh out loud. If Elvira realized he was the fool, she’d surely take her revenge tenfold.
So Morris stifled his laughter and glared at the neighboring kingdom’s queen who insulted his own monarch, rebuking her as any proper knight would:
“That great lady would never act as you say! You’d better watch your—!?”
Morris’s retort was cut off, his mouth blocked by something far too soft.
Elvira’s lips—those sharp lips that had just been uttering all kinds of spite—were now pressed against his, silencing him in the most physical way.
Clearly, her plan all along was to infuriate Morris and then shut him up like this.
It was a kiss utterly devoid of tenderness, full of dominance and force, greedy and capricious, just like Elvira herself.
Though it lasted only a few dozen seconds, it felt like an eternity for Morris.
Even when they parted, Elvira didn’t move away, letting her lips brush along his cheek until they reached his ear, where she proclaimed her victory in a voice brimming with force and confidence.
“…This is all your fault, you know? If only you hadn’t rejected my confession back then, none of this would have happened. You’ll never escape from me again, my dear Morris~”
With those words—driven more by obsession than love—Morris, immobilized, knew that the inevitable moment had arrived.
But this, too, was a necessary sacrifice. He’d let Elvira play her games.
As long as the Kingdom of Fastar remained safe, that was enough.