Chapter 793: Morgan’s True Gift
As Alistair was brought to the Silver and Tin Hall, dusk had fallen. The sun and moon hung in the sky simultaneously.
Alistair and Leviathan were escorted to the reception room by an unnamed arbiter.
“…Please wait here for a moment. The Queen’s Guard will inform you of the next steps.”
The arbiter bowed politely, a sense of relief palpable in his words. It was as if he was saying, “Thank goodness this is over. Let someone else deal with it next time; I’m done.”
He was clearly terrified of a confrontation between Her Majesty the Queen and Miss Alistair. One was the Queen of Avalon, and the other was currently the Pope’s lover. Furthermore, they seemed to be rivals for his affection. From their brief exchange, it appeared Queen Isabel had made a challenging request to Miss Alistair, which she had now successfully completed.
As such, he would be blamed no matter what he did. It could be said that the moment he decided to patrol the port district that day, this burden had silently crept onto his shoulders. It was already the best possible outcome that Her Majesty the Queen and Miss Alistair were not directly interacting.
He could only hope it wouldn’t escalate further and become an ugly scene. The arbiter thought to himself.
Alistair hadn’t snuck in; she had entered Avalon through customs openly. This meant that the number of people who knew of her return was far from small. Along the way, numerous reporters had taken her photo.
Given the efficiency of those reporters, he could already guess the headline of tomorrow’s morning paper. And it would undoubtedly feature him, Alistair, and her walking down the street, with photos taken from every possible angle.
He was sweating profusely.
“Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Arbiter,” Alistair said, gently caressing Leviathan beside her and offering a generous, radiant smile. “You won’t be needed anymore.”
“I hope so…” the arbiter murmured before swiftly departing.
After he left, several members of the Queen’s Guard arrived as expected. Their gazes on Alistair held curiosity, scrutiny, and a hint of familiarity, but also caution. Yet, there was no trace of the hostility one might expect when facing the Queen’s rival for affection.
“Her Majesty is waiting for you in the bedroom,” said an elf with a long, silver ponytail.
“…The bedroom?” Alistair’s heart skipped a beat, and her expression turned slightly unnatural. *It can’t be, can it? I’m Alistair right now…*
Alistair thought about it and decided that at most, she might simply be hugged to sleep, just like in her dream. She then breathed a sigh of relief.
Without needing to be led, she walked ahead of the leisurely advancing Queen’s Guard. Alistair traversed the now all-too-familiar corridor and pushed open the door to Isabel’s bedroom.
Isabel wasn’t practicing her musical instrument as usual. Instead, she was comfortably reclining on the bed in her pajamas, reading a book.
“It’s been a while, Alai,” she said with a smile, closing the book and placing it beside her. She casually picked up a pillow, obscuring the book’s title.
Alistair subconsciously glanced at it and saw that the author’s name, partially visible on the cover, was ‘Rose Kelly’. *Never heard of her. Is she a less-famous writer?* Alistair mused, her gaze involuntarily drawn to Isabel’s attire.
The pajamas she wore were of a style Eivass had sent from the Church—a silvery-white silk, almost transparent, with dark gold lace accents at the cuffs and collar. There should have been an undergarment… but Alistair couldn’t discern its shape.
Alistair unconsciously swallowed. *If only I had returned in Eivass’s body,* she thought sincerely. This body, ‘Alistair,’ was ultimately unable to fulfill her desires.
…Wait a minute?
Alistair blinked, suddenly remembering her other avatar. She walked towards the full-length mirror in the room. When she emerged again, she had transformed into Eivass’s appearance. Except for her crimson pupils, which held a hint of malevolence, she was an exact replica of the real Eivass!
“This is—”
“…How can this be?”
The Queen’s Guard, who were supposed to remain quiet and silent under any circumstances, couldn’t help but utter exclamations, feeling a profound shock. They could all sense that this was not an illusion, nor some flesh-and-blood transformation spell, but the genuine Pope Eivass! Yet, Eivass was supposed to be in the Church right now, and he certainly wasn’t the Child of the Moon!
“Calm yourselves,” Isabel’s voice was calm yet authoritative. “Silence.”
With just a few words, the Queen’s Guard resumed their composure, becoming mere decorative elements in the room. Then, looking at Alistair, who had transformed into Eivass, Isabel extended her hands with a happy smile, showing no surprise.
Alistair stepped forward and hugged Isabel tightly. “My Queen… it’s been a long time.”
“…I haven’t heard this voice in a long time, my Knight. I’ve missed it,” Isabel whispered into Alistair’s ear, causing a ticklish discomfort—a particularly sensitive spot for Eivass. Whenever Isabel spoke near his ear, he couldn’t help but tremble, even letting out a muffled groan.
“Why did you suddenly decide… to return to Avalon? Did you sense something?” Isabel asked with a smile. Her voice was unhurried, but it differed from Alistair’s expectation. Alistair had thought her return would be a surprise, that Isabel would excitedly rush over like a kitten, bumping into her embrace. Instead, she sat calmly on the bed, waiting for Alistair to embrace her, as if it was Alistair who had missed her. Well, she had, a little, Alistair admitted inwardly, both dejected and pleased.
“I’m going to Eagle Cape Village tomorrow…” Alistair said earnestly, recounting the recent events and the worries of her original self to Isabel.
Isabel pouted at first but then listened attentively to Alistair. When she heard that Eivass was hesitant to advance his power too quickly due to his promise to Alistair, Isabel suddenly burst into laughter.
“Then you don’t need to argue anymore,” Isabel said unhurriedly. “Do you want me to give you a surprise?”
“A surprise…” Alistair murmured, suddenly realizing, “No way?”
Eivass and Isabel had only been intimate once—although it lasted almost an entire day. They had originally planned for the evening of February 16th, and Isabel had even prepared fine wine for the celebration and remembrance. However, on the morning of the 16th, after meeting Morgan, Eivass seemed to experience an increase in desire. He had been with Isabel from day to night. At the time, Eivass had wondered if he was being influenced by the Path of Love, but he was certain his will was entirely clear… He could only blame himself for being too impetuous and unable to resist. And after just one time… Isabel was already pregnant? What a sharpshooter— Or perhaps, this was Morgan’s gift to her?
“–Lancelot asked me to send you a gift… What do you think of me?” Those were Morgan’s words to Eivass back then. As the Lake Fairy of the Path of Love, Morgan did possess the authority to bestow children. However, after Eivass saw ‘Morgan’s Wonderful Dream House,’ he felt that the ‘dream property’ should have been Morgan’s gift to him. Looking back now, how could the item Lancelot asked Morgan to give him be merely a pleasure house? That would be too strange— While Morgan wasn’t exactly proper, Lancelot was incredibly upright and solemn, entirely lacking a sense of humor. Even if he hadn’t explicitly stated what he wanted to gift… it would be difficult for Morgan to report back. However, gifting a child might satisfy the old stick. After all, Isabel on the other side was also his descendant.
With that thought, Alistair gently placed her hand on Isabel’s lower abdomen. The power of love belonging to the Child of the Moon slowly permeated into her through her blood. Alistair’s palm had not yet felt another heartbeat, but the power of the Path of Love easily sensed the strange life force circulating within Isabel—it felt like two individuals overlapping. There was no heartbeat, no soul, no Path Power, yet there was a clearly visible life force.
“Can you feel it?” Isabel whispered softly. “I can’t feel it yet.”
“…It might take another ten-plus days for the fetal heartbeat to appear,” Alistair instructed earnestly. “You must protect yourself well, avoid dangerous places, and don’t stay up late or drink alcohol.”
Her emotions were complex, yet she felt joyous—the worries she and Eivass had harbored were now non-existent!
“I don’t want to,” Isabel stated plainly. “I can only see you two by drinking.”
“…Listen to me. It was lucky that it wasn’t affected by your drinking before, but you can’t do that anymore.” Alistair’s expression was serious. “It’s dangerous for both the child and you.”
Isabel then giggled. “I was just joking… Of course, I know. Besides, I have this…” She said, proudly displaying the necklace she wore. Hanging from it was a small, perfume bottle-shaped crystal vial filled with an intoxicating, almost viscous golden liquid. It looked like flowing mercury, the golden paste filled with fine, sparkling particles, as beautiful as mist.
—That was Eivass’s liquid soul.
The moment she saw it, Alistair suddenly recalled her previous obsession. If she wanted to become Eivass’s Beast of Sin, Eivass’s liquid soul was a necessary component…
(End of Chapter)
