"Lady Morgan, you called for me."
Souya knelt on one knee and bowed to Morgan.
Even though their relationship was now extraordinary, and Morgan's attitude toward Souya had changed from looking down on him to treating him as an equal, Souya was still used to acting as he did before.
And Morgan was also happy to see him like this.
"Come here, Lamorak. Get in the pool."
Her command was as concise and to the point as ever, but Souya knew she had serious business to discuss with him.
Souya stepped into the pool, looking up at Morgan.
White mist permeated the bathhouse, making her skin look even fairer and more tender, as if it would break at the slightest touch.
Before Morgan could speak, Souya voluntarily cupped her feet and began to wash them.
The pure, warm water flowed down her ankles, over her insteps that resembled works of art, and finally landed on Souya's chest.
He gently kneaded her petite, exquisite jade-like toes. To the touch, they felt as warm, smooth, and soft as fine jade.
Even though he had been stepped on and toyed with by these beautiful feet more than once, Souya still marveled at their perfection.
Morgan parted her legs slightly, placing her other foot on Souya's shoulder, her gaze never leaving him from beginning to end.
"Lamorak, do you hope the White Dragon wins, or the Red Dragon?"
Morgan suddenly asked.
Souya understood this was the start of the main topic.
His hands didn't stop moving. After a brief moment of thought, he didn't choose to deliberately flatter her by saying he hoped she would win.
Instead, he answered the question in a more tactful and pleasing manner.
"It matters not whether it is the White Dragon or the Red Dragon. Whichever side brings greater benefit to you, Lady Morgan, is the side I lean toward."
Hearing this, the corners of Morgan's mouth couldn't help but curl up slightly.
"Then do you know who I want to win?"
"This..."
This time, Souya hesitated.
Emotionally speaking, given Morgan's displayed disgust and attitude toward Artoria, she undoubtedly didn't want to see Artoria defeat Vortigern, emerge victorious, and become the King from the prophecy who could threaten her.
But to say Morgan hoped Vortigern would win solely because of this, Souya felt that was unlikely.
After all, in every sense of the word, an elderly Vortigern with abundant life experience and shrewdness was far more difficult to deal with than Saber, who was groomed to be King.
Moreover, Souya wasn't sure if Morgan knew about the fading of the Age of Gods.
However, judging from how the Vile King specifically sought Souya out to use this secret to persuade him to join the White Dragon's faction, Souya felt Morgan probably didn't know about it.
After all, if Morgan knew, Souya, who was closely connected to her, would likely know as well, and Vortigern wouldn't have needed to go to such great lengths to come looking for him.
Therefore, if Souya really had to guess, he honestly didn't know who Morgan would want to win.
So, after failing to think of an answer, he honestly said he didn't know.
Seeing the usually glib-tongued Souya, who always knew what she wanted, now unable to guess her thoughts, Morgan wasn't angry. Instead, she felt a bit delighted.
Women were always like this: hoping they were a book that the person they loved could never completely read through.
She gently lifted her foot, using it to lift Souya's chin.
"Frankly speaking, I don't like the idea of either of them winning. In fact, it would be best if they both died on the battlefield."
"But that's impossible."
"A few days ago, I peered into destiny again. In this war between the two dragons, there is no mutual destruction. Only the victor survives."
Souya listened silently, not interrupting Morgan to ask who the victor was.
"But as you know, we once said we would rebel against destiny."
At this point, the smile on Morgan's lips gradually widened. She lowered her head, looking down at Souya beneath her feet.
"Destiny says there will be one victor, so I insist on making both of them fall."
"Whether it's the Two Dragons, or the so-called King Arthur and Vile King—anyone who dares to covet my, Morgan le Fay's, land, my island, my throne... I will make them pay the price in blood."
"Do you understand, Lamorak?"
"I am willing to dedicate my everything to you, Lady Morgan."
Without the slightest hesitation, Souya grabbed Morgan's jade-like foot and, as if kissing her hand, planted a deep kiss on her instep, which was as white and flawless as mutton-fat jade.
"Very good, Lamorak. Very good."
Morgan chuckled, leaned down, and kissed Souya on the forehead.
"I will tell you my plan. I will personally deal with Vortigern. As for you, you will infiltrate the side of that frail Red Dragon, sabotage his forces, and at the moment he reaches his peak, grant him the despair of death."
"Understood?"
"Yes, Lady Morgan."
Souya's attitude remained respectful. He looked up at his Master, his eyes completely filled with her figure.
This made Morgan's joyful mood flutter even more.
"Then what should I do, Lady Morgan?"
Souya asked for the first step.
"Very simple."
Morgan gently waved her hand. In the blink of an eye, a silver tray appeared on the tiles beside the pool, bearing a vintage bottle of wine and a crystal goblet.
"First, break that sword claiming to be the 'Symbol of the King of Britain' and the Blade of the King."
While silently memorizing this, Souya instinctively asked:
"To crush Arthur's spirit first?"
"No. My primary target is not Arthur."
But Morgan denied this. She picked up the wine, uncorked the bottle, and poured herself a full glass.
Immediately, crimson liquid resembling blood flowed into the glass, glinting with an alluring red under the dim light of the bathhouse.
A sweet fragrance wafted through the air.
Morgan downed the fine wine in one gulp. On her slender neck, a faint red line trickled down slowly from the corner of her mouth, finally vanishing between her twin peaks.
After a moment, Morgan wiped the corner of her mouth and spat out the final answer.
"My target is Merlin."
As if recalling some unpleasant memory, a glint of coldness surfaced in her eyes.
"In the past, I asked him if he could help me gain Father's approval, or at the very least put in a good word for me with Father, giving me a chance to prove myself."
"But he actually mocked my overestimation of my own abilities, saying my destiny could be seen through at a glance, and that I would never become King in this lifetime."
"But now I have done it. Not only did I do it, but I also possess strength greater than his."
"It's time to make that disgusting incubus pay the price for his foolish words. He called me a witch, so I will do unto him what a witch should do."
"He should roll back to his broken tower."
At this point, Morgan's expression became cruel, and the smile on her lips grew somewhat flamboyant. At this moment, it was as if she truly was that evil yet mysteriously alluring Witch and Enchantress.
Without a word, Souya simply smiled and served Morgan, his eyes full of deep affection.
She took another large gulp of wine, this time not using the goblet.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, Morgan looked down at him again.
"Are you thirsty, Lamorak?"
"I'm fine, but if Lady Morgan wishes for me to get slightly tipsy with you, it would be my utmost honor."
Hearing this, a beautiful and bewitching smile instantly bloomed on Morgan's pretty face.
She raised the wine bottle and slowly poured the liquid down her chest. Before long, a small red stream flowed down from her peaks, trickling all the way down.
Under the faint mist, Morgan's pristine white skin was dyed with a faint red and sweet fragrance, resembling an angel, yet also a devil.
"Come, Lamorak. Taste this fine vintage."
Morgan chuckled and pulled Souya's head into her embrace.
And so, this night, the Queen and her Knight shared the alluringly fragrant wine and settled upon a plan capable of influencing the future generations of Britain.