Since the engagent had already been announced, Orkney had made preparations long ago. By the ti Lot and Morgan returned, most of the ceremonies and arrangents were already in place.
They hadn't been ho for long before nobles from Calot began arriving in droves, invited to attend the wedding.
And on this particular morning—
The most important guest of all finally arrived.
Just after waking, Lot received a report from his steward:
"Your Majesty, King Uther of Calot—Princess Morgan's father—has arrived at the castle gates."
Morgan's father, Lot's future father-in-law, the ruler of Calot himself—King Uther—had completed his long journey and stood at their doorstep.
"Ah… I see."
Lot hesitated for a mont before nodding.
A flicker of nervousness passed through him.
This is my first ti eting my father-in-law in either life.
If I ss this up… who knows what'll happen?
With this anxiety weighing on him, Lot's movents slowed as he dressed.
He always dressed himself.
Not out of so noble disdain for servants—but because the maids in his castle were all sturdy, capable won with arms thick enough to wrestle horses.
Having them help him dress didn't feel like being served by maids—
It felt like being fussed over by a bunch of aunties.
So Lot had long since refused their assistance.
Now, left alone with his nerves, he took his ti getting ready.
Finally, he finished.
A white embroidered undershirt, fitted trousers, and—since this was a eting with his future father-in-law—a noble's formal coat adorned with his family crest instead of knight's armor.
His golden hair was neatly combed, white gloves adorned his hands, and a faint smile played on his lips—exuding effortless charm.
As he walked through the castle, he soon spotted Morgan heading the sa way.
She, too, had changed—into an elegant evening gown, crystal heels, her silver hair intricately braided and topped with a black ribbon.
Regal, yet warmly familiar in Lot's eyes.
Spotting him, Morgan imdiately spoke up.
"Lot! Perfect timing. Let's go greet my father together."
"Mm."
Lot nodded distractedly.
Morgan tilted her head.
This guy's usually so talkative around .
Why so quiet now?
Then she caught his thoughts.
[What do I say? What do I say?! First ti eting the father-in-law—how do I greet him?!]
[Do I ask if he's eaten? Or 'What's your na, old man?']
[Aaaah, I've never done this before!]
"Pfft—"
Morgan couldn't hold back a laugh.
Lot shot her a mildly offended look.
[The hell? You're laughing at ?!]
Morgan quickly composed herself.
"Relax, my father doesn't bite. There's nothing to be nervous about."
"I'll be right beside you—he won't do anything."
"Besides, he'll be thrilled to see you."
Aside from his sharp mind, Lot had one other undeniable advantage—
His face.
Morgan sotis wondered if all of Orkney's good looks had been funneled into him alone.
How else could soone be this unfairly handso?
Probably even more so than Scotland's legendary Diarmuid.
With a face like that, she doubted her father—or anyone—could stay mad at him.
"Alright."
Lot exhaled, so tension easing.
Then, hand in hand, they stepped outside.
Morgan glanced at him again, checking his mood.
[Don't panic. Morgan's on my side now. Nothing to fear.]
She smiled.
Lot really is sothing else.
Life with him will never be boring.
Though a bit more ambition wouldn't hurt…
After these past few days, Morgan had finally figured him out.
Brilliant mind? Check.
Devastatingly handso? Check.
Lazy as hell? Also check.
He had a crystal-clear understanding of the future—but zero motivation to act on it.
All he cares about is perfecting his imdiate surroundings.
In other words—living comfortably.
This irritated Morgan to no end.
With your talents, why not aim higher?!
She'd decided then and there—
My purpose here is to wring every last drop of potential out of him.
Making his own life cushy is too easy.
At the very least, he should apply that genius to all of Britain!
"You can do this, Morgan. Squeeze him dry."
…Of his intellect, obviously.
Hand in hand, they stepped into the courtyard.
…
Outside, a contingent of knights awaited.
At the forefront stood two n.
One, Lot recognized instantly—
The white-haired scam artist himself, rlin.
The other, a middle-aged man, could only be King Uther.
Morgan was a beauty, and her sister Artoria blended elegance with martial grace.
As their father, Uther's features still bore traces of the handso youth he'd once been.
[Though he's nowhere near my level.]
Lot preened internally.
Morgan side-eyed him.
Have so sha.
I an… you're not wrong.
But still! That's my father!
anwhile, Uther studied Lot—and smiled approvingly.
Damn, he's good-looking.
Stepping forward, he spoke warmly.
"King Lot, I've co to entrust my daughter to you."
"From today onward, we are family."
Then, noticing their linked hands, he added with amusent—
"Though it seems you've already grown close."
Both Lot and Morgan flushed slightly.
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