About twenty minutes after Sivirind left, Elvira returned to her room, having finished the day’s state affairs.
Morris, who was pretending to read but was actually just waiting for her to come back, assumed she would again play with his mind and body with that cheerful face of hers.
But something felt off this time, because Elvira’s mood was noticeably calmer, lacking the manic energy she’d shown over the past few days.
It was possible she was just putting on an act to mess with Morris, but it was just as likely that something really had happened.
So, seeing Elvira like this, Morris casually asked:
“What’s wrong, did you finally realize that kidnapping and imprisoning people is wrong, and you’re about to apologize and let me go?”
“Hm? What nonsense are you spouting? I just took back what was mine to begin with, how is that wrong?”
Elvira, entering the room, gave Morris—who was sitting on the sofa—a look like she was staring at a fool, then hung her luxurious Scepter on the hook beside the door.
Her movements were so natural, just like a man coming home from work and hanging up his coat and hat as the very first thing he does.
“Then why are you acting so proper here? I thought you suddenly awakened into a good woman or something.”
Of course, Morris would never voice these thoughts; instead, he just continued to probe the slightly odd blonde Queen in a rebellious tone.
“I’ve always been proper, thank you very much. Besides, I’ve always been a good woman—there’s no need for any awakening. But Morris, why are you so talkative today? Don’t tell me you’re nervous?”
Without taking off her coat or removing the Crown from her head, Elvira, having put away her Scepter, walked straight toward Morris in full queenly attire.
Compared to the last few days, Elvira’s mood was only slightly lower, not enough to seem upset—in fact, this made her appear less like a frenzied Magic and more like a dignified Queen.
She approached the sofa slowly but surely, exuding the elegance and confidence of the Goddess of Beauty.
“What would I have to be nervous about.”
“Oh? Is that so? Well, if you say so, I’ll just take it at face value.”
Even when faced with Morris’s scornful reply, she didn’t get excited, simply responding in a casual, indifferent tone.
Clearly, Morris wasn’t nervous, but the way she said it made it sound as if he was just putting on a brave front.
This composure unsettled Morris.
Compared to the high-strung Elvira, the calm Elvira was much harder to deal with, because Morris had no idea what she was really thinking.
Just as Morris was frowning in annoyance at her remark,
Elvira naturally sat down on the sofa beside him, then—under Morris’s wary gaze—picked up his cup of tea and brought it to her lips, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“If you want to drink, pour it yourself.”
“I refuse. What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is still mine. And really, it’s your fault for not preparing a cup for me—it’s your responsibility.”
“…A true Tyrant, through and through.”
The two of them bickered back and forth on the sofa—someone who didn’t know any better might think their relationship was actually quite good.
Because the cup was empty, Morris had no choice but to take the teapot and fill it again.
But before he could even pick up his freshly filled cup, a hand reached over and snatched it away.
And she didn’t even drink it right away; instead, she put it somewhere out of Morris’s reach.
Even when Morris glared at her in dissatisfaction, she just lazily tipped her delicate chin in a certain direction, signaling that if he wanted to drink, he’d have to go get that cup himself—this cup was hers now.
Her mood had shifted from exuberant to calm, but her behavior hadn’t changed at all—she was still just as willful.
Too tired to keep up the bickering, Morris stood up to fetch himself another cup.
It was then that Elvira’s calm voice sounded from the side.
“It’s not a big deal, just someone sending me an Anonymous Letter saying there’s a Betrayer by my side.”
At the word ‘Betrayer’, an image instantly flashed through Morris’s mind—a blue-haired girl with twin tails in a tight combat outfit.
—Could it be that Dorinya’s cover is blown?
Thankfully, Morris’s training kept him from spilling the tea in shock.
“I see. So there’s a Betrayer, huh? I knew something was off about your mood. But it’s hardly surprising—considering how willful you are as a Queen, it’d be odd if you didn’t have at least one Betrayer.”
Keeping his composure, Morris refilled his cup, speaking to Elvira in a deliberately nonchalant, third-party tone, as if it had nothing to do with him.
“You sound like it’s none of your business.”
“Because it isn’t. The fact that I’m not gloating is already pity enough for you.”
Morris didn’t look at Elvira as he picked up his cup and answered her, acting every bit the detached bystander.
Even so, Morris still didn’t get to drink his tea.
Because as he brought the cup closer, he suddenly lost all control over his body—apart from his face, he couldn’t move at all.
He didn’t need to guess to know that this was the work of the Magic at his side.
Had his connection with Dorinya been exposed?! No, even if that were the case, he shouldn’t show any fear or worry—besides, it might not even be exposed.
Even without control of his body, Morris’s face showed no sign of panic, only impatience as he stared ahead.
“I know it’s got nothing to do with you. But your attitude is pretty arrogant—don’t tell me you’re just waiting for me to make a fool of myself?”
Elvira got up from the sofa, unceremoniously taking the cup from Morris’s hand and putting it back on the table. Then, cup in hand, she sat directly on Morris’s lap, straddling him so they were face-to-face.
Even unable to move, Morris couldn’t help but notice her infuriatingly beautiful face, now for once showing an unusually serious expression.
It was clear that the matter of a Betrayer was something she truly cared about.
“Hmph, who knows. You’d better handle it well, or I’ll definitely have a laugh at your expense.”
At this intimate distance, their gazes met—hiding anything now would take both strong self-control and a steady heart.
Luckily, Morris had both, so he simply snorted in displeasure to express his annoyance at Elvira’s control over his body.
“Well, that’s too bad for you. Roselia and Dorinya have already started investigating. We’ll have results soon enough. Don’t worry, when the execution happens, I’ll make sure you witness the Betrayer’s end for yourself.”
Serious as never before, Elvira stared straight into Morris’s eyes with her clear, lake-blue gaze, her voice full of poise and confidence.
Hearing her mention ‘Dorinya’, Morris felt his worries ease.
It seemed the Betrayer was someone else—Dorinya hadn’t been exposed.
“I’m not worried about that. What I’m more concerned about is when I’ll finally get to drink my tea today.”
Keeping up his act as an ‘onlooker’, Morris knew he had to appear completely uninvolved.
So, once again, he brought up the tea.
It was a clever move, but also a risky one.
On the bright side, Elvira really did drop the topic of the Betrayer.
On the downside, Morris was asking for trouble himself.
“That’s nothing to worry about. I’ll make sure you stay hydrated—after all, you’ll have no time for drinking water once we get started.”
With that, Elvira flashed a teasing smile, took a sip of tea in front of Morris, then, like a lover, wrapped an arm around his neck and slowly closed the distance between them.
—Damn!
Though he resented those soft lips drawing ever closer, Morris knew
This was the price he had to pay as a captive—there was simply no escaping it.
All he could do was accept the pain and pleasure that came with it.
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