In the time that followed, with his body completely restrained, Morris was utterly powerless—he was simply, unilaterally, used by Elvira.
It was truly the literal meaning of the word “used.”
Morris felt like he was nothing more than a life-sized Xingai doll.
As punishment, Elvira had even bound his face, the only part he could still move.
On one side was Morris, completely unable to move yet fully conscious.
On the other was Elvira, who hurled verbal humiliation at him while fiercely savoring her victory.
Although Morris was not a knight who cared excessively about dignity or chivalry, being humiliated to this extent still left him with an intense sense of discomfort.
He had to constantly remind himself in his heart to endure it—all of this was for the peace of Fastar.
“Aiya aiya, Morris, you look like you have something to say, do you want me to lift the magic? But no~way~. Right now, you’re just my toy. In fact, you should feel honored, you know? You are my exclusive toy!”
As she spoke these words, Elvira’s face was full of the pleasure and pride of a victor.
Thankfully, her bark was worse than her bite—her practical skills were nothing short of pitiful.
It was no wonder; though she seemed poised and composed, every movement exuding confidence and grace, in reality she had absolutely no combat experience, relying solely on her extensive knowledge.
Seeing her unashamed and self-assured demeanor, Morris had thought she must be unbelievably strong, so much so that he’d prepared himself for a formidable enemy—only for her to finish by herself several times over.
If he hadn’t had to coax her to wrap things up quickly and end this dreadful period, she might have gone on for several more rounds.
Perhaps it was also because she was overly excited, her heightened mental state making her body extremely sensitive.
In any case, what felt to Morris like a hellish torment was actually over rather quickly.
Having started on her own and satisfied herself, Elvira cleaned herself up in an instant with magic, then looked down at Morris—his body marked in several places—with a satisfied yet cruel smile.
“Hehe~ What a sorry sight, Morris. Here, take a look in the mirror at your shameful state. How about it? Now you understand to whom you belong, don’t you?”
Mastering multiple spells, Elvira just tapped the space before her with her fingertip, conjuring up a magical water mirror as smooth as a lake. It reflected Morris’s disheveled, battle-worn appearance.
“……”
At this moment, Morris couldn’t speak or move, not even blink or breathe—he was completely ‘fixed’ by Elvira in one position.
In this situation, even if he didn’t want to, he could only see his reflection in the magic mirror.
And then, in his heart, he quietly let out a sigh of relief.
—Hmm, actually, it’s not that bad.
After seeing himself, Morris didn’t feel as humiliated as he expected.
After all, compared to Elvira, who was just a novice, Her Majesty the Queen of Fastar played much more artfully.
“If you don’t understand, that’s fine too. After all, there’s plenty of time for you to grasp it~ So tonight, in my great mercy, I’ll end it here. Good night, my dear Morris.”
Unaware of all this, Elvira thought she had given Morris an unforgettable taste of defeat.
Completely satisfied, she simply waved her hand, tossed out a line, and went off to sleep on the big bed inside, leaving Morris behind.
She turned away with such a lack of attachment, as if she didn’t care about Morris at all.
But this was just an act—if she truly didn’t care, she wouldn’t have been so persistent.
What she wanted was to instill fear in Morris, to make him dread just when she would release her magic, leaving him alone in anxiety for some time.
Then, when she was ‘merciful’ enough to lift the spell, Morris would become dependent on her.
It was a clever plan, but the problem was that Morris had already seen through it. If nothing unexpected happened, she would probably lift the spell after waking up tomorrow.
So Morris didn’t need to worry.
At most, it would last ten hours or so—his mind wasn’t so fragile that it would break after just ten hours without rest.
For Morris, the biggest challenge was probably if some part of his body got itchy and he couldn’t scratch it.
“————”
Not long after, Morris heard Elvira’s steady breathing—she really had fallen soundly asleep without a care.
Capricious, cruel, and proud—Morris once again personally experienced just how nasty Elvira’s temperament could be.
Even if he had truly accepted her confession and become the consort of this Queen, he’d probably still be subjected to such treatment whenever he disagreed with her words or actions.
In the end, Elvira could not tolerate being questioned, could not tolerate failure, and certainly could not tolerate anyone else taking what belonged to her—she was the very picture of a tyrant.
On the other hand, if you were willing to please her, then honor, status, or even her own body—like the highest work of art—would be easily within reach.
The problem was, Morris was unwilling to betray his own principles to become a fawning lapdog for a tyrant.
Indeed, compared to a willful tyrant like Elvira, the Queen of Fastar—a sacred monarch who respected her subordinates and listened to advice—was far more suited to him.
Such a pity. If only the one who confessed to him back then had not been Elvira, but rather the Queen of Fastar.
Then those female colleagues who also pledged loyalty to the Queen wouldn’t treat him like prey.
Morris wouldn’t have to worry about his presence causing conflict among Fastar’s upper echelons, nor would he have been deliberately captured.
But things had come to this; it was all just pointless speculation now.
The Queen of Fastar had never shown him any affection beyond that of ruler and subject. To her, Morris was just a reliable subordinate who helped her relieve stress and desire.
—Enough. There’s no use in pointless daydreaming—better to consider my next concrete move…
Since brooding would accomplish nothing, Morris cut off the useless what-ifs and began to focus on more practical, realistic plans.
Such as, how to exchange the smallest price for the greatest gain.
Being taken prisoner by Elvira was exactly what he wanted, but he had no intention of staying cooped up in this room.
If possible, he’d much rather have free access to the royal palace and stroll around the capital.
Yet he couldn’t bring this up himself—otherwise, Elvira would surely raise the price, maybe even demand that he kneel and kiss the back of her foot to beg…
So, after Elvira fell asleep and until she woke again, Morris concentrated on pondering how to handle this wicked woman.
Though troublesome, Morris felt confident that dealing with a bad woman was still well within his abilities.
Yet very soon, Morris would come to realize the meaning of “birds of a feather flock together,” “one takes the color of one’s company,” and that the subordinates of the blonde Queen were all blonde heroines themselves.