Strongest Incubus Sy Chapter 260: Reunion

Chapter 260: Reunion

The training room door flung open with a swift movent, slamming gently against the wall behind it as the figure erging from the hallway was illuminated by the golden light of the lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Morgana stood there, breathing slightly faster than usual, as if she had rushed across a good portion of the house upon arrival. Her gaze t Damon’s almost instantly, and sothing in her expression shifted so noticeably that even Ingrivid, who had known her for years, perceived the difference effortlessly.

For a brief mont, Morgana simply stood in the doorway, observing Damon with eyes gleaming in a way that didn’t match the cold, calculating deanor she usually maintained with her subordinates or political rivals. That look carried sothing entirely different. Relief. Longing. Perhaps even sothing close to contained despair.

Then she moved.

Without any hesitation or formality, Morgana crossed the training room almost running, her quick steps echoing on the tatami mat as the hem of her dress moved with the speed of her movent. Damon barely had ti to react before she reached him.

She literally threw herself at him.

Damon reacted purely by reflex, dropping the wooden sword he was still holding and opening his arms to catch it before they both ended up falling to the ground together. He caught it easily, lifting it slightly as Morgana wrapped her arms around his neck as if clinging to sothing she feared losing.

And then she kissed him.

It wasn’t a shy or restrained kiss.

It was intense.

Morgana pressed her lips against his with an almost desperate urgency, like soone who had been holding onto it for a long ti and finally didn’t need to feign control anymore. Damon let out a small, surprised laugh against her lips before returning the kiss, holding her tightly as she practically hung from him.

The soft sound of their breathing mingled with the faint echo of the silent room as Morgana kissed him repeatedly, as if trying to make up for the ti they’d spent apart. Her fingers tightened on the back of his clothes as she tilted her face to continue the kiss without any sign of intending to stop anyti soon.

Damon just laughed again between kisses, clearly finding the whole situation as amusing as it was unexpected, but still responding naturally.

A few ters away, Ingrivid remained completely still.

Outwardly, her expression remained exactly the sa as always.

Cold.

Controlled.

Professional.

But inside her head, a real whirlwind of thoughts began to surface as she observed the scene before her.

Because this... this simply didn’t make sense.

The woman who was practically hanging around Damon’s neck at that mont, kissing him as if the world around her had ceased to exist, was the sa Morgana who hours earlier had spent the entire day giving cold, calculated orders inside Arven Manor. The sa woman who negotiated with influential nobles without showing the slightest emotion, who made difficult political decisions without hesitation, and who kept everyone around her at a respectful distance.

And now...

Now she seed like a completely different person.

It wasn’t just the intensity of the kiss.

It was the way she clung to him.

As if she had truly missed him.

As if she were desperately happy to see him there.

Ingrivid blinked slowly, maintaining a firm posture as he tried to reorganize his thoughts.

Inside his head, however, the conclusion inevitably erged.

She is completely different with him.

After several long seconds, Morgana finally needed to pull away.

Not because she wanted to.

But because she needed to breathe. She pulled her face back just a few inches, her lips still close to Damon’s as she took a deeper breath. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and a small strand of hair had escaped her hairstyle during her short run around the house.

"I missed you," she finally said, her voice a little softer than usual.

Damon was still holding her, supporting her weight easily as he watched her expression with a relaxed smile.

"I can tell," he replied, clearly amused.

Morgana let out a small laugh before tilting her face back and stealing another quick kiss, this ti less desperate, but still full of affection.

"I’m so happy to see you."

Damon nodded slightly, still smiling.

"I missed you too."

He then carefully lowered her, placing her back on the tatami floor.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, Morgana seed to rember sothing important.

She imdiately reached for her clothes, adjusting the front of her dress and smoothing the fabric with quick movents, trying to regain at least so of the elegant posture she usually maintained in front of others.

Her breathing was still a little rapid.

She then turned her face to the side.

And finally realized they weren’t alone.

Her eyes t Ingrivid’s, who still stood near the door of the room, observing everything with her usual neutral expression.

For a very short second, Morgana seed to freeze.

Then she blinked twice.

"Oh."

She discreetly cleared her throat.

"Could you ask them to prepare tea?"

Her voice had now regained much of the authority it normally carried when speaking to her subordinates.

"I’ll speak with him."

Ingrivid inclined her head slightly.

"Yes, Lady Morgana."

Without making any further comnt, she turned and began walking toward the door of the room. Her steps were silent and controlled as she crossed the lantern-lit corridor.

But before completely leaving their field of vision, she couldn’t help but have one last silent thought.

I’ve definitely never seen this side of her before.

The door closed behind her with a soft click.

Silence returned to the training room.

For a few seconds, Morgana just stood there.

Then she let out a long sigh and brought her hand to her face, lightly rubbing her forehead as if she had finally realized how uncontrolled her own entrance had been.

"I completely forgot she was here."

Damon crossed his arms, still smiling. "I noticed."

Morgana turned to him again, and this ti there was a playful glint in her eyes.

"She probably thinks I’m completely crazy now."

Damon chuckled softly.

"She definitely thinks sothing."

Morgana laughed too, shaking her head as she walked a few steps across the training room, trying to fully regain her composure.

"Her image of

must have been completely shattered."

Damon shrugged.

"Maybe she just found out you’re human."

Morgana gave him an amused look.

"I’m not sure that word suits

very well."

She then stopped in front of him again, her eyes scanning his face with renewed attention.

Despite the light tone of the conversation, it was evident that seeing him there had truly made a strong impact on her.

The smile that had slowly appeared on her face was now more relaxed.

"Anyway," she said softly. "I’m really glad you ca."

So ti later, the mansion’s small living room was silent again, illuminated only by the soft light of the wall lanterns and the flickering glow of a few candles arranged on the low table in the center of the room. The light aroma of freshly brewed tea mingled with the scent of polished wood and the flowers that discreetly decorated the corner of the room. Morgana and Damon were seated facing each other in comfortable armchairs, separated only by the small table where two steaming cups rested on fine porcelain saucers.

Morgana held her cup with both hands, her fingers delicately resting on the warm porcelain as she observed the dark liquid for a few seconds before finally taking a small sip. The gesture seed to serve more to organize her own thoughts than out of real need. Damon, on the other hand, leaned back in the armchair with a relaxed posture, one leg crossed over the other as he slowly stirred the spoon inside his cup.

For a few monts, neither of them spoke.

The silence between them, however, wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simply the silence of two people who knew an important conversation was about to begin.

Morgana finally set the cup down on the saucer.

"I’d like to say things at Arven Manor are under control," she said slowly, her eyes now fixed on Damon.

She let out a small sigh.

"But the truth is, they aren’t."

Damon raised an eyebrow slightly, observing her with interest.

"I suspected as much."

Morgana leaned forward slightly in her chair, resting one elbow on the arm of the armchair while interlacing her fingers.

"My stepmother is plotting sothing."

Damon brought the cup to his lips and drank calmly before replying.

"That doesn’t surprise

either."

Morgana let out a small, humorless laugh.

"The problem isn’t just her."

Damon set the cup down on the table again.

"Your father."

She nodded slowly.

"Yes."

For a mont, Morgana stared at the surface of the tea as if carefully organizing her words.

"I believe he’s being manipulated."

Damon tilted his head slightly.

"Manipulated how?"

She looked up again.

"Magic."

The silence that followed was brief, but laden with aning.

Damon didn’t seem particularly shocked by the idea.

In fact, he just leaned back a little more in his chair, crossing his arms as he carefully analyzed her expression.

"And how exactly did you co to that conclusion?"

Morgana took a deep breath before answering.

"Because he changed."

Damon waited for her to continue.

"My father is many things," Morgana said slowly. "Proud, stubborn, sotis even unbearably rigid."

She paused briefly.

"But he was never unpredictable."

Damon watched silently.

Morgana brought the cup to her lips again and took another small sip before continuing.

"My father lives practically like clockwork."

She set the cup down on the saucer again.

"He wakes up at the sa ti every day for years. He has breakfast in the sa room, at the sa table, with the sa dishes. Then he spends exactly one hour reading reports before starting any eting."

Damon tilted his head slightly.

"He seems organized."

Morgana chuckled softly.

"Organized is a kind word."

She raised a finger slightly.

"Obsessive would be more accurate."

Damon smiled discreetly.

Morgana continued.

"He’s kept the sa routine for at least ten years. Everyone in the house knows exactly where he’ll be at any given ti of day."

She leaned back in the armchair again.

"Or at least they did."

Damon interlaced his fingers in his lap.

"And now?"

Morgana sighed.

"Now everything has changed."

She ran a hand through her hair before continuing.

"He started waking up later. He canceled important etings without explanation. He completely changed his al tis."

She paused briefly.

"And that might seem like a small thing to anyone else."

Damon nodded slightly.

"But not to you."

Morgana shook her head.

"Not to soone who’s known him their whole life."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she recalled the last few days.

"He also started avoiding certain people."

Damon leaned forward a little.

"Who?"

"Old allies."

She crossed her arms.

"People who always had direct access to him now have to wait days to get an audience."

Damon was silent for a few seconds.

"And your stepmother?"

Morgana let out a small sigh.

"She’s always around."

Damon raised an eyebrow.

"Coincidence?"

Morgana smiled humorlessly.

"I highly doubt it."

She slowly rose from the armchair and walked a few steps across the room as she spoke.

"Her influence within the mansion has increased absurdly in recent months."

She turned back to Damon.

"Servants who always worked for my family have been replaced."

Damon watched her every move attentively.

"Replaced by whom?"

Morgana crossed her arms again.

"People that nobody really knows."

Silence filled the room for a few seconds.

Damon finally picked up his cup again.

"And you believe magic is involved."

Morgana nodded without hesitation.

"I’m almost certain."

He took a sip of his tea before asking calmly.

"Did you sense anything?"

She hesitated for a second.

"Not directly."

Damon tilted his head slightly.

"But?"

Morgana walked back to the table and placed her hands on the wooden surface.

"I know my father."

She said this with absolute conviction.

"And that man who is ruling Arven Manor now... it’s not him."

The silence that followed was heavier this ti.

Damon placed his cup back on the table with a small sound of porcelain touching wood.

"So you think your stepmother is controlling him."

Morgana took a deep breath.

"Yes."

Damon rested his elbow on the arm of the chair.

"And what exactly do you want

to do?"

Morgana looked up at him.

There was sothing firm in her expression now.

Sothing decisive.

"I need to find out exactly what she did to him."

She paused briefly.

"And I need soone who can see what’s happening without being part of the political ga inside the mansion."

Damon smiled slowly.

"In other words."

Morgana returned his gaze without blinking.

"You."

Damon leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds as he thought.

Then he looked at her again.

"And if your theory is right?"

Morgana answered without hesitation.

"Then I’ll drag that woman out of my house."

Her eyes glead with sothing cold at that mont.

"And find out exactly what she did to my father."