Before this, Lot had never considered this possibility.

  After all, from the moment he opened his eyes in this world, everything screamed "medieval Europe"—sturdy yet dark castles, the constant stench of livestock lingering even in the lord's chambers, and outside in his lands, frail peasants in tattered clothing, looking like oppressed feudal serfs.

  As for the castle maids? They were all middle-aged women, each with arms as thick as Lot’s thighs—perfect for hard labor but hardly the delicate beauties of fantasy.

  This was the reality of being a feudal lord in an old, primitive age.

  It was only after years of effort that Lot had managed to bring some semblance of civilization to his territory.

  Otherwise…

  He wasn't sure if he himself would have become one of those filthy, reeking nobles.

  And now, you're telling me this is the Nasuverse?!

  A terrible sense of unease gripped Lot.

  What was Britain supposed to be in a normal medieval setting?

  A remote, uncivilized frontier at the very edge of the known world, where civilization clashed with barbarism. A barren wasteland, culturally backward, and even compared to the Roman Empire on the continent, it was little more than a primitive backwater.

  Coming from the modern era, Lot had some level of cultural confidence—he knew where this world should stand.

  But if this was the Nasuverse...

  Then Britain wasn’t just Britain anymore.

  It was the homeland of the infamous "Saber-face" phenomenon—the place where every face resembling Artoria Pendragon originated.

  Okay, that was a joke.

  More importantly, Britain was one of the last remnants of the Age of Gods.

  Sure, Japan had some lingering divine influence too, but it was nothing compared to this place.

  And right now, Lot was standing at the threshold of the Arthurian era—the final days of the Age of Gods. The entire island would soon be thrown into chaos by the remnants of the old world.

  Dragons? Yeah, there were multiple of them.

  And even Alaya (the collective unconscious of humanity) might take notice of this place.

  In this kind of situation, trying to change his fate would be nothing short of an uphill battle.

  What a pain....

  Lot sighed inwardly.

  But those were problems for the future. Right now, the first thing he needed to do was welcome his new bride.

  The rest? That could wait.

  For now, Morgan was all that mattered—his soon-to-be wife, who, by all accounts, was stunningly beautiful.

  From now on, neither his fate nor her fate would be allowed to follow the tragic path set for them.

  <+>

  "Your Highness, it seems King Lot holds you in very high regard. Look—he's come all this way, far from his castle, just to welcome us!"

  Perched sideways on his horse, Merlin spoke in a teasing tone, his ever-present mischievous smile practically begging for a punch.

  Morgan glanced at him from beneath her veil.

  "Hmph! If not for my father, I wouldn’t be doing this."

  Beneath the veil, her nose crinkled slightly in annoyance.

  At this moment, she was still just a teenage girl—not yet the infamous enchantress who would later plunge Britain into chaos.

  Like any young maiden, she had once held romantic dreams for the future.

  But a few days ago, her father, King Uther, had suddenly informed her that she was to marry King Lot, an ally of Camelot.

  Who was Lot?

  Was he tall or short? Handsome or ugly? Morgan had no idea.

  It was like opening a blind box—until you actually saw what was inside, you had no clue what you were going to get.

  And the worst part?

  She had no say in the matter.

  So how could anyone expect her to be happy about this?

  That would be the real surprise.

  "Your Highness, you can rest assured—when it comes to appearance, King Lot is absolutely flawless."

  As if sensing Morgan's concerns, Merlin glanced at her and spoke with a reassuring smile.

  Morgan gave him a sidelong look before responding slowly, "My father told me that if you’re a girl, you should never believe even a single letter of what Merlin says."

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  "…"

  Merlin's expression shifted into a wry smile. "His Majesty's words may be a bit biased at times."

  Morgan said nothing.

  She simply gazed at him, watching as Merlin scratched his head in mock frustration.

  Seeing that Morgan had no intention of continuing the conversation, Merlin wisely stopped speaking.

  Morgan turned her attention back to the approaching knights, quietly waiting for Lot’s arrival.

  What kind of person is he?

  Her heart was filled with anticipation and unease.

  They’re getting closer.

  She could now make out the details of the approaching knights.

  And then—

  She saw him.

  At the center of the group was a young man with an exceptionally handsome face.

  —Ahem.

  It seemed that, for once, Merlin had actually told the truth.

  Well, that made sense.

  After all, she was her father’s only child, and in the future, Merlin would be one of her subjects. He wouldn’t have any reason to lie to her about this.

  Beneath her veil, the corners of Morgan’s lips curled upward ever so slightly.

  <+>

  "Greetings, Princess Morgan."

  When they finally met, Lot addressed her in a deep, magnetic voice.

  "Hmm…"

  Beneath her veil, Morgan instinctively inclined her head slightly in response.

  And then—

  At that very moment, she suddenly heard a strange voice.

  [So this is Morgan? I’ve finally met her in person.]

  [What a pity. If not for her younger sister, she would have become the ruler of Camelot. Perhaps everything in the future could have been different!]

  Huh?

  What was that voice?!

  Beneath the veil, Morgan’s brow furrowed slightly.

  Where did that voice come from?

  Who dares to speak to me like this?

  And what did he just say?

  My… younger sister?

  Since when do I have a younger sister?

  And why would my supposed sister stop me from becoming the ruler of Camelot?

  Even if the nobles oppose me because I am a woman, how could my sister become the king instead?

  What does this person mean?

  As these thoughts raced through her mind, Morgan subtly prepared a spell.

  She was a prodigious mage by nature, and her noble heritage had granted her even greater advantages. Despite her young age, her magical prowess was already formidable.

  As her magic began to leak into the air, those around her immediately sensed it.

  "Your Highness, is something wrong?"

  Merlin turned to Morgan with a questioning look.

  Even if you’re unhappy with your future husband, there's no need to attack him with magic, right?

  Besides, his looks are extraordinary—even better than mine. Even the Lady of the Lake would be tempted by his appearance! That face alone shouldn't be a problem…

  To say that everyone was caught off guard by Morgan’s sudden reaction would be an understatement.

  "Merlin, did you not hear someone speaking just now?"

  Morgan asked, keeping her voice calm.

  Merlin glanced around, furrowing his brows slightly before replying, "Your Highness? Just now, aside from King Lot, no one else spoke."

  "Yes, that’s correct. I didn’t hear anyone else speak either," Lot confirmed with certainty.

  What?

  Then what is happening?

  Morgan's mind raced.

  At that moment, Merlin spoke again. "Perhaps Her Highness is simply fatigued. Let’s head to the camp first and discuss things later."

  "That was my oversight."

  Lot lightly smacked his forehead, then spoke in an apologetic tone.

  [What is going on? Does Morgan dislike me? But I’m so handsome—how could she possibly not be interested?]

  —Morgan heard that voice again.

  But this time, the tone was completely different.

  Wait… was that King Lot’s voice?

  Huh?

  He said that?

  Morgan furrowed her brows tightly.

  Why would he say something like that to me?

  But almost immediately, she realized something was off.

  No—wait.

  After he spoke that first time, he never actually opened his mouth again.

  And what he said was far too shocking—if he had truly spoken aloud, there’s no way Merlin wouldn’t have reacted.

  Then what’s going on?

  Did he use magic to secretly communicate with me?

  But that can’t be it.

  Before coming here, she had already investigated King Lot’s background.

  He was an outstanding warrior among knights, but he knew nothing of magic.

  He also possessed no mysterious artifacts that could explain this.

  So then, what’s the reason?

  Morgan pondered deeply.

  Holding these thoughts in her mind, she carefully observed Lot.

  Through her veil, her sapphire-blue eyes—deep and serene like a lake—fixed on him with unwavering focus.

  Lot, being an experienced warrior, immediately sensed her gaze.

  [Oh? She’s looking at me? Seems like she’s interested in me. Not bad—not bad at all! Looks like my handsomeness is universally acknowledged. Not just my subordinates and commoners, but even the princess of Camelot can’t resist my charm!]

  Hearing this, Morgan couldn't help but let the corners of her lips curl upward beneath her veil.

  So, this guy… is this self-absorbed?

  Handsome—yes, undeniably handsome.

  In fact, he was the most handsome young man she had ever seen.

  But this level of narcissism? That was on another level.

  Morgan once again studied Lot carefully and confirmed—

  He had not opened his mouth.

  He had not used magic.

  Then the source of this voice… I think I understand now.

  This is his inner voice.

  His thoughts.

  How interesting.

  So beneath that proper and serious exterior, this man is actually… such a narcissist.

  Morgan chuckled inwardly.

  I never knew I had this ability.

  Why didn’t I have it before?

  Oh, wait—no, I don’t have this ability with anyone else.

  Merlin? Forget it.

  Even her personal attendants—she had never once heard their thoughts.

  So then… it’s just Lot?

  Only him?

  Only after our engagement… I gained the ability to hear his thoughts?

  At this realization, a faint blush crept onto Morgan’s cheeks.

  Fate truly is mysterious.

  A trace of sweetness rose in her heart.

  But soon, a pressing question surfaced in her mind—

  What was the first thing Lot thought about?

  "If not for her younger sister, she would have become the ruler of Camelot."

  My… younger sister?

  Morgan looked at Lot again, trying to hear more of his thoughts.

  But this time, a slight soreness spread through her eyes, and a wave of exhaustion washed over her.

  It was as if something was telling her—

  "That’s enough for today. The rest will have to wait."

  This feeling…

  Morgan sighed inwardly.

  What exactly is going on?

  Why does my father have another daughter—one I know nothing about?

  And why does her existence prevent me from becoming the ruler of Camelot?

  If it were simply because the nobles don’t want a woman as ruler, then why would they accept my supposed sister instead?

  Would sexism suddenly disappear just for her?

  That makes no sense.

  And more importantly—how does Lot know about this?

  Even if I did have a sister, that should be an absolute royal secret.

  Where did Lot learn about it?

  Morgan felt a strong urge to grab Lot by the arm and demand an explanation.

  But…

  These were his thoughts.

  There was no way she could ask him outright.

  ‘Ugh, this is so frustrating!’

  Morgan thought to herself, unable to do anything but speculate in silence.

  Meanwhile, Merlin was watching both Morgan and Lot with growing suspicion.

  Something felt… off.

  Things were not going the way he had foreseen.

  Morgan had been under his watchful eye all this time—nothing should have changed.

  So… is the anomaly coming from Lot?

  Merlin subtly shifted his gaze toward the young king.

  And yet—

  He couldn’t see clearly.

  This realization sent a rare chill down Merlin’s spine.

  The future—

  The one he had long foreseen—

  Was now shrouded in uncertainty.

  ‘How interesting. Truly interesting. Perhaps fate is not as set in stone as I once believed.’

  A small chuckle escaped his lips.

  For the first time in a long while, something unpredictable had happened.

  Something even he could not fully grasp.

  <+>

  While both Morgan and Merlin were deep in thought, completely absorbed in their own respective dilemmas—

  The man at the center of their curiosity, Lot, was thinking about something far more… critical.

  ‘What should I have for dinner tonight?’

  ‘I've been eating grilled meat for days while traveling—I’m so sick of it.’

  That, at this moment, was his biggest concern.