Eve stepped into the enormous, vaulted chamber of the throne room. Sunlight, filtered through massive stained-glass windows, cast jewel-toned patterns across the marble floor. At the far end, upon a raised dais, sat King Arthur, a figure of undeniable, if relaxed, authority.
Eve had deliberately removed the Deadly Needle just before being escorted into the palace. She knew that dealing with royalty required a delicate balance of respect, wariness, and, above all, the ability to judge character—a skill impossible without her full emotional spectrum. She needed her human instincts back, even if they left her vulnerable.
Kneeling with sharp precision, she executed a flawless court bow. "This Subject greets Your Majesty."
King Arthur rose from his gilded throne, his movements fluid and magnetic. He was not wearing heavy regalia, but a simple, tailored velvet tunic that accentuated his broad shoulders.
"My, my. Lady Eve is indeed a vision, even in her training attire," Arthur observed, his voice a warm baritone that held a distinctly flirtatious edge.
Eve, the former version of herself, would have been flustered, perhaps stammering. But the woman who had already died once merely offered a composed smile. "Thank you for your compliments, Your Majesty." The King's reputation—a single emperor who refused a queen, with rumors ranging from a broken heart to an inability to love—was well-known, but Eve refused to speculate.
"Well, putting that aside, I summoned you for something truly important." Arthur descended the steps of the dais, his presence growing commanding with every footstep. He stopped directly in front of her, his eyes, the color of aged whiskey, locking onto hers.
His hand reached out, gently tilting her chin up. Eve felt an immediate, uncomfortable flush spread across her cheeks—a clear sign that the emotions she'd suppressed were surging back.
"Will you be my Queen, Eve Morgan?"
The question was a thunderclap in the silent hall. Eve's composure shattered. Her vision tunneled, and her mind spun, the return of her full, raw humanity making the shock overwhelming.
"Y-Your Highness, please don't joke. I am not worthy," she stammered, attempting to pull back.
But Arthur was quicker. His other hand slid to her slim, yet curvy waist, drawing her into the intimate space between them. "I am not joking. You were mine in the past life, and even now, or in the next. I will not lose you again," he declared, his voice dropping to a low, intense promise that suggested knowledge of her recent death and return.
Eve's shock deepened, her mind reeling from the confirmation that her second chance was no isolated event. He remembers?
"I—I..." Words failed her. She was bound, physically and mentally, by the revelation and the startling security she felt in his strong arms.
Arthur's gaze softened slightly, recognizing her confusion. "Do not worry. I will make you the happiest person in this life. I will protect you from the shadows you fear."
She looked down, her confusion battling with a strange, undeniable sense of calm. Her heart, so recently hardened, beat a steady rhythm against his chest.
"Then... I accept," she whispered, the decision immediate and absolute. "I may not be able to love you yet, but I will try to give my best as your Queen." She quickly added a condition, a nod to her mission. "Also, please keep this a secret for now. I need some time. I still have something I must finish."
She looked up into his eyes, and any further protest died on her lips as his mouth met hers. The kiss was confident, quick, and possessive—a sealing of the deal more than a romantic gesture.
Their foreheads touched, and Arthur's triumphant grin was contagious. "That's it! Lock it! Stamp it! Seal it and keep it!" He released her, his eyes sparkling with mischief and victory.
"I—I will excuse myself, Your Majesty. I still have a meeting with Sir Konrad."
Arthur blew her a theatrical kiss that did nothing to hide the fierce resolve in his gaze. "Go. But know this, Eve Morgan: I will not let you go this time." The King watched her leave, his plot already in motion. He clearly knew that the Morgan Duke had intended Eve to be the Crown Prince's fiancée, and he had used Mary Morgan's return as the perfect distraction to steal Eve away.
The New Commander
Eve hurried through the palace corridors, her face flushed crimson, her heart pounding. She ran right into Konrad Eli, the grizzled Knight Commander.
"Just what in the seven hells happened to you?" Konrad asked, staring at her tomato-red face.
Eve cleared her throat, forcing a return to controlled normalcy. "N-nothing, Commander. I merely ran the last corridor." She quickly changed the subject. "How is my enlistment progressing?"
Konrad explained that she was not only approved for enlistment into the Imperial Knights but that the King himself had interfered. "You won't be in my division," Konrad said, a bemused smile stretching his lips. "You are to be the leader of a new division, one that moves solely under King Arthur's direct command. Highly unusual, but the King insisted."
Konrad threw his head back and laughed, a hearty, booming sound. "E-eh??? I'm actually relieved! The King has finally given me someone else to share the headaches with. Welcome, Commander Morgan. You're exactly what this old guard needed."
Eve's heart rate finally began to slow. Her initial, naive plan had been to enlist and work her way up. Now, thanks to the King's intervention, she had a private army and a royal mandate right from the start. Her path to justice had just been paved with gold and political power.