“How is it? Is that guy, Morris, resting on my bed?”
“Your Majesty, Lord Morris is indeed already resting on your bed. However, I was worried about disturbing his sleep, so I didn’t get too close. Do you need me to go back and check if Lord Morris is truly asleep?”
Around ten thirty in the morning, somewhere along the palace corridor, a maid stood with her head bowed, reporting to the Queen before her.
“No need. Just leave him be. Thank you for your trouble; go on and take care of your other tasks.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
After hearing the maid’s report, Elvira only wore a mysterious smile and then instructed the maid to busy herself elsewhere.
Once the maid had left, Elvira turned her gaze toward the central courtyard in excellent spirits.
To an outsider, it would seem as if the Queen was admiring the courtyard’s scenery, but in truth, Elvira was secretly pleased with herself for predicting Morris’s actions.
Among the three Paladins serving the Queen of Fastar, there was Morris the Debauched Knight—a handsome young man with gray hair and crimson eyes. His slightly melancholic air contrasted sharply with the courage he showed in battle, earning him immense popularity among the ladies.
Unlike the stereotypical Paladin, Morris was not one to abide strictly by the rules.
Even as a prisoner, he wouldn’t refuse food to prove his loyalty.
If given the chance to rest, he would take full advantage of it, not letting wounded pride prevent him from recuperating.
Compared to the more idealistic Paladins, Morris placed a higher value on reason and practicality.
That was precisely why she’d left Morris in his puppet state, tossing him onto the sofa for a whole night. She had calculated from the start that once she left, Morris would eventually move to her bed for a proper rest.
Some might ask: is it really so gratifying to have predicted a man’s actions?
True, if that were all there was to it, it wouldn’t be worth feeling so smug.
But Elvira’s secretive smile was for a different reason entirely.
Frankly, whether Morris lay on her bed to sleep outright, or simply closed his eyes to rest and wait for a chance to escape, didn’t matter to her at all.
Because she’d already enchanted the bed while Morris wasn’t paying attention. The moment he lay down, he would once again be turned into a puppet—his body unable to move, but his mind perfectly clear.
Not only did this fundamentally reduce the chance of his escape, it also made things much more convenient for Elvira whenever she returned to rest.
Wasn’t this just killing two birds with one stone?
Morris, you really were too careless!
Didn’t you know she was a witch? Treating her as just an ordinary Queen was a grave mistake!
How could a sin as serious as rejecting her confession be forgiven just by leaving him in puppet mode for one night?
From now on, she would torment Morris countless times!
At this thought, Elvira’s beautiful face twisted into a wicked and crazed expression—just like the evil witch from a fairy tale.
“Hehe~ If Morris wakes up, he’s surely cursing me right now. But that helpless rage of his has its own appeal! I’m really looking forward to tonight!”
Though a bit eerie, when alone she couldn’t help but reveal a sort of fanaticism, whispering in a bewitched tone.
Of course, she liked Morris—only because his looks and skills were worthy of her.
She liked his appearance and his combat prowess.
When Morris flatly rejected her confession, it left Elvira—who had never before experienced defeat—with her first-ever taste of loss.
From that moment, her impure affection for him became even more twisted, now blended with jealousy, revenge, and resentment.
Now she both wanted to torment Morris and to cherish him. This complexity was the reason she kept him imprisoned.
Meanwhile, just as Elvira predicted, Morris woke up from a nap and was startled to realize he had lost control of his body again.
Damn! Sleep paralysis!
He never thought he’d get outmaneuvered by that woman, Elvira!
At this moment, Morris lay perfectly straight on the bed, eyes closed, appearing to be simply asleep.
But in truth, his mind was wide awake, chiding himself for underestimating Elvira.
He should have been more cautious, but had grown overconfident after thinking he’d figured her out—only to end up outsmarted.
Now look, he was stuck in puppet mode again until that wicked woman returned.
Having his magic sealed was really inconvenient; if he were in his normal state, he could recover from these abnormal conditions quickly, and the effects would be far less severe.
The bed was comfortable, sure, but the thought of Elvira returning to humiliate him made Morris wish he’d never rested there at all. The sofa would’ve been better.
He wasn’t really afraid of Elvira jumping him; she only seemed experienced, but was actually nothing special.
What he dreaded was Elvira toying with his body—endlessly teasing and tormenting him. That was far more torturous than just getting it over with.
But worrying was pointless. There was nothing he could do now except pray Elvira wouldn’t go that far.
Looking on the bright side, things couldn’t possibly get worse than Elvira slowly tormenting him.
Resigned to his fate, he could only try to remain optimistic.
Compared to the night before, Morris’s world was pitch black behind closed eyes, and having not rested properly since his capture, he soon drifted off again.
In that darkness, who knew how much time had passed, when a soft sound of the door opening and the tapping of high heels startled Morris from his shallow sleep.
—Is it night already? Did Elvira even bother changing her shoes? That’s just like Her Majesty, with her love for luxury—unlike most Queens of Fastar, who just wore battle boots.
As a Paladin, Morris’s hearing was already keen. With his vision cut off, his sense of hearing was heightened even more, and he instantly recognized the sound of high heels as different from when Elvira left in the morning.
—Hmm? No, these footsteps are too light, not the confident stride of Elvira. Could it be one of her loyal knights?
As more footsteps echoed, Morris realized the person approaching wasn’t Elvira. Judging from the stride, the visitor was slightly taller than Elvira, and the cautious, subdued demeanor was completely different.
A trio of young women in strange masks, hiding their faces, came to his mind.
Most likely, it was one of them.
Probably here on Elvira’s orders, just like the maid earlier, to check on his condition.
While Morris was trying to figure things out, the footsteps came closer and stopped by the bed. He could even feel someone’s gaze.
—Fine, I admit it, I fell for her trick. Just hurry up and go report to that wicked woman already.
Helpless, there was nothing Morris could do but think this to himself.
After all, things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“…Just as Her Majesty said, there’s no response from him. No time to waste—while he can’t move, I’ll just go ahead and feed him by mouth.”
After a moment of silence, a cool and mature woman’s voice drifted to Morris’s ears.
The words were so outrageous that Morris’s mind blanked out.
Wait, what? Did he hear that right? What did this female knight just say?
What does ‘feed by mouth’ even mean???
“…It’ll be trouble if Her Majesty finds out, but as long as I don’t get caught, it should be fine.”
With the woman’s muttering, Morris also vaguely heard the sound of fabric rustling.
Now, Morris was completely stunned.
…Well, that’s it. Something even worse really has happened.
Hold on! Why does even the Queen’s subordinate have to be a blonde woman too?!
Aren’t they afraid of making their boss furious?!