Imperial Year 2515, Mid-May, Kislev Bay, Sea of Claws.
A small passenger ship, shrouded in thick mist, steadily made its way northward.
Ryan awoke from his dreams to find something pressing down on him.
It was Morgiana. She had wrapped herself tightly around his neck, refusing to let go. Ryan tried gently pushing her off but soon realized it was futile. Sighing wryly, he resigned himself to lying there. Truthfully, he was exhausted. Handling Morgiana alone was manageable, but with the Lady of the Lake joining in, he hadn't even had time to catch his breath.
This was becoming a real problem. Thinking about how he would have to deal with both the goddess and her First Chosen day and night moving forward, Ryan felt his face turning green.
"Ah, darling, you're awake?" A soft, alluring voice came from the other side of the room. Ryan's legs felt weak, his waist sore, and his psychic reserves completely drained as he turned toward the voice.
There stood the Lady of the Lake, wearing a stunning pearl-and-silver embellished "Isha's Dream" gown, draped with a fluffy fur shawl. She was adorned with a full set of platinum jewelry gifted by the Emperor. On her feet were plush fox-fur slippers, while her long legs were sheathed in ultra-thin black velvet tights, her elegant figure accentuated with every step.
In her hands burned Ryan's psychic fire, which the goddess was effortlessly using to prepare breakfast.
Ryan noticed she was making soft-boiled eggs. With precise control, she used the psychic flames to boil water, gently placed the eggs in, and cooked them for a few minutes before scooping them out. She then cracked the shells open with a small knife, added a pinch of salt and pepper, and voila—perfectly cooked soft-boiled eggs.
On the table, an assortment of breakfast items was already laid out: buttery maple croissants, three steaming cups of Arabian coffee, three slices of haggis, several strips of crispy bacon, a jar of Ulthuan fruit jam, and freshly made mashed potatoes.
"Smells amazing," Ryan couldn't help but praise. The Primarch of the Grey Knights finally allowed himself to relax, stretching his arms behind his head.
A warm morning, a delicious breakfast prepared for him, no pressing military or political affairs, and the comforting embrace of soft, fragrant beauty—Ryan thought, This is what life is all about.
"If you're awake, then get up. Breakfast is ready," the Lady of the Lake said slyly, a playful glint in her eyes. "Or… are you too tired to even get up?"
"Don't underestimate me!" Ryan retorted, though he knew Lilith was deliberately teasing him. Still, as a man, he couldn't back down in such matters. He gently tried to push Morgiana off him again, which woke her up.
"Mm~ Morning already? What time is it, Ryan?" Morgiana mumbled groggily, still unwilling to leave his side.
"I'm not sure, but it's time to get up, Morgiana," Ryan said, patting her shoulder.
"Ugh…" Morgiana wanted nothing more than to stay snuggled up with Ryan a little longer. Her body was sore all over, front and back, and the mischievous smirk on the Lady of the Lake's face reminded her of certain memories she'd rather forget. She wished she could just hide under the covers forever.
"Get up already. How long do you plan to cling to Ryan?" the Lady of the Lake said, exasperated. "Breakfast is ready, and we have a lot to discuss."
"Yes," Morgiana reluctantly got up, her movements sluggish.
Fifteen minutes later, the Lake Witch had changed into a feather-light, semi-sheer pleated dress paired with white transparent tights and pink lace-up high heels adorned with bows. The three of them sat down together for breakfast.
"This trip to Dragon City is not being conducted in an official capacity," Ryan explained his plan to the Lady of the Lake and Morgiana. "If we went under the banner of official trade, the Tsarina would have an excuse to interfere. No matter what, Erengrad is still nominally her territory. If we use an official pretense, she could publicly criticize and obstruct the negotiations."
"That's why we can't visit in the name of either Bretonnia or Erengrad. Instead, I've spread the news through Erengrad's city guards, so everyone knows I'm going to negotiate with Dragon City. This is the best I can do under the circumstances," Ryan said, taking a bite of the maple croissant made by the Lady of the Lake. He smiled wryly, "We have to tread carefully."
"Does it really have to be this complicated?" Morgiana, feeling drained, tapped her spoon lightly against her plate, her dissatisfaction evident. "If everything is restricted by Katarin and her Romanov family, what was the point of liberating Erengrad in the first place?"
"It's not that simple," the Lady of the Lake shook her head. She wasn't eating much, just nibbling on some fruit as she watched Ryan and Morgiana enjoy the meal. "No matter how exceptional Ryan is, he is still Bretonnia's king. No matter how flawed Katarin is, she remains Kislev's Tsarina. If Ryan were to take over Erengrad or Kislev as the King of Bretonnia, even if he were fair and immensely respected, very few Kislevites would truly accept him as their ruler."
"Not to mention the boyars and nobles who owe their loyalty to the Romanov family," Ryan nodded. Just as he lifted his coffee, the Lady of the Lake graciously handed him some sugar cubes. Smiling, Ryan accepted them. "We've already given the civilians and refugees significant aid. While they are grateful to us, they still want to stay in their homeland. That's only natural—moving to an entirely foreign land with different climates, cultures, and dietary habits would require starting over, which most people are unwilling to do."
There was something Ryan left unsaid. From an economic standpoint, forcibly annexing Erengrad would be more trouble than it was worth. To put it simply, every piece of land had its benefits and administrative costs.
If a territory generated 10 coins in revenue but cost 5 coins to govern, annexation was a no-brainer.
If the administrative cost rose to 10 or even 12 coins, the territory could still be managed by redistributing funds from other provinces.
But what if the cost was 15, 20, or even 50 coins?
At that point, the territory would become a burden to the kingdom, draining its finances. In Kislev's case, with its different ethnicity, culture, and religion, Ryan's administration costs would skyrocket.
"Abandoning the Tsarina is heartless; bringing her back is brainless. For now, this is the only way we can handle Erengrad," Ryan concluded.
"As long as you know what you're doing," the Lady of the Lake nodded slightly. Morgiana, who understood little about governance, could only remain silent and continue eating.
The hearty breakfast was soon finished, but the atmosphere in the room began to grow tense.
"So, dear, how was the breakfast I made?" the Lady of the Lake asked Ryan with a mischievous smile.
"It was delicious, my Lady. Very well-prepared," Ryan said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and smiling awkwardly. "I enjoyed it very much."
"Oh? You really liked it? You're not lying, are you?" The Lady of the Lake picked up her floral fan, glanced at Morgiana with a playful smirk, and pressed on, "I know Morgiana is also quite skilled in the kitchen. So tell me, whose cooking do you prefer—mine or hers?"
"??!!" Morgiana perked up instantly, setting her coffee down as she turned her gaze to Ryan. "Yes, Ryan, whose cooking do you like better—mine or the Lady's?"
"Who will you choose?" The goddess and her First Chosen both leaned in toward Ryan, their eyes filled with expectation.
What the hell is going on? Ryan thought, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Why are they suddenly ganging up on me?
Desperate, he chuckled nervously and said, "Well, uh, both of you have your strengths! For example, my Lady excels at pastries, desserts, and breakfasts, while Morgiana is better at main courses and traditional dishes. Both are excellent in their own ways… haha…"
"What do you mean, 'both have strengths'?" The Lady of the Lake wasn't satisfied. She crossed her arms, her divine figure swaying slightly as she glared at him. "Are you implying I can't cook main courses or that Morgiana can't make desserts? Come on, tell me—who's better?"
"Exactly, Ryan! I've made you breakfast countless times. Have you forgotten?" Morgiana added, standing up. She tugged at her skirt in embarrassment but refused to back down. "Sure, the Lady's cooking is great, but mine isn't bad either! You have to choose!"
"Uh…" Ryan was caught between a rock and a hard place. "Oh! I need to use the restroom!"
"No, you don't!" The goddess and the Lake Witch each grabbed one of Ryan's arms, pulling him in opposite directions.
The Lady of the Lake's expression was a mix of irritation and teasing, while Morgiana's was one of nervous anticipation. Both women stared him down, demanding an answer.
"Say it, or you're not going anywhere!"
"Don't even think about leaving this room until you decide!"
Ryan realized he couldn't escape. Trapped under their wolfish gazes, his face turned pale. He could only stall for time. "Uh… I need a moment to think. Can you give me a minute?"
"Fine. Two minutes, and you're staying right here!" The Lady of the Lake pressed him back into his seat, while Morgiana sat on his lap. "You're not leaving until you give us an answer, Ryan."
Sweating bullets, Ryan weighed his options. Finally, he stammered, "Well, based on experience, I've eaten more of Morgiana's cooking over the years… so I'd have to say… her dishes are more varied and flavorful."
The Lady of the Lake's face darkened instantly. Really? After I, a goddess worshipped by countless followers, personally made you breakfast, you still think your maid's cooking is better? This is a slap in the face!
Meanwhile, Morgiana's cheeks flushed bright red. Her heart swelled with a mix of shyness and pride. Years of effort in perfecting her cooking skills had finally paid off. Overwhelmed with joy, she threw her arms around Ryan and gave him a passionate kiss, silencing him completely.
Having given his answer, Ryan seized the opportunity to escape under the pretense of discussing Dragon City affairs with Thorgrim.
Left alone in the room, the Lady of the Lake glared at Morgiana, who was still blushing and clutching her chest.
"So, you think you're quite impressive, don't you?" the goddess sneered, black energy swirling around her. "Did you forget your place? Kneel!"
"Of course, I am always grateful for your blessings, my Lady," Morgiana said reluctantly, kneeling down. "But… it's only natural that Ryan would prefer me. After all, I've spent more time with him, cared for him when he was injured, and cooked for him so often. His choice makes sense, doesn't it?"
"Are you bragging?" The goddess laughed coldly, placing her hands on her hips. "If it weren't for the fact that I can't always appear in the mortal world, do you think you'd even have a chance? Do you know who you're defying, Morgiana? Should I strip you of your powers and make sure you never see Ryan again?"
"N-no, my Lady! Please don't!" Morgiana pleaded softly.
"Hmph. You're only so bold because of Ryan's favor and my promise, aren't you?" the goddess snapped, though she knew she couldn't truly punish Morgiana. She didn't want to upset Ryan.
Then an idea struck her. Smirking, she pulled out a small jar of ointment and a shiny razor.
"What… what are you doing?" Morgiana stammered, her face turning crimson.
"Oh, you'll see. Let's make sure you remember who's really in charge!" The goddess chanted a spell, filling the cabin with radiant light.
"Ahh! No, my Lady, please don't!" Morgiana cried, but the Lake Witch was powerless under the goddess's enchantment.
"You like wearing just stockings, don't you? Well, let me help you out a little!"
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