"Do you have any plans for your future?"
"Your Majesty… I'm not sure… Ever since the incident, my life has been thrown into chaos, and I don't know what to do…"
Gray replied very cautiously.
She felt uneasy in front of Moran; this was the first time in many years that she had established normal communication with someone else.
Well, Add, that guy doesn't count as human.
"Since that's the case, would you like to see the outside world? If you want, I can take you out."
"Eh… but the clan's rules…"
It was only then that Gray realized.
The person in front of her was the king to whom their clan was loyal.
And the rules were meant to serve him.
"Hehe, Bersac, I plan to take Gray to see the world outside the cemetery. What do you think?"
"Your command is a sacred word. It is a great honor to be by your side. We have no objections to this."
Bersac said with his head lowered.
Gray's parents felt the same way.
"See, there's no need to worry about any rules; just follow your own thoughts. I have no intention of forcing you."
"Your Majesty… is it… because of my face… that you care for me so much…?"
At this point, Gray hung her head.
Her expression was still one of sorrow.
She believed that the late king, like her parents and the clan leaders, saw her as that noble princess.
"Gray… how dare you say that…!"
Magdalena raised her head, showing an angry expression.
In their eyes, Moran was not only the ancestor of their clan but also the eternal king representing Britain, a figure of faith.
To receive such grace was already a great honor.
As a descendant and a subject, she should simply accept it and show her love for the king.
Yet now, Gray dared to question the grace.
Magdalena regretted her daughter's foolishness, and her husband wanted to plead for the king's forgiveness due to his poor discipline.
Gray was like a frightened little rabbit.
She clenched her skirt and pursed her lips.
What the girl truly wanted was very simple; she just wanted people to see her true self.
She just wanted to find herself.
If a person cannot even find their own self, that is the saddest thing in this world.
"It's fine, I don't mind.
You asked if I care for you because of your face?
Hehe, I don't intend to deny that. Gray, you look too much like my wife. And I love my wife very much."
Moran directly responded to Gray.
These words struck at the core of Gray's long-standing pain.
If everyone only wanted to see Princess Morgan, what was the meaning of her life over the past decade?
Was her existence as Gray—
Simply to serve as a sacrifice?
What significance did her joys and sorrows hold?
A sense of loss and gloom lingered on Gray's face, and a pain surged within her, as if she were being torn apart.
However—
"But my concern for you is certainly not just because you resemble Morgan.
In my eyes, you are still a citizen of Great Britain, a descendant who has inherited the bloodline of both me and Morgan.
Gray, you are a descendant who resembles her so closely…
What's wrong with me showing love and compassion to my citizens and my descendants?"
Moran's words echoed in the room.
Not only was Gray impacted by this powerful statement, but even Bersac and the others were as well.
A single sentence halted everyone's emotions.
They felt the close bond of blood and the loving gaze of a king towards his subjects.
"You are not Morgan; you are Gray Blackmore. I am clearer about this than anyone.
You are a member of the Blackmore family, who has upheld the king's orders and can bring comfort to me and to Britain. Even if you are not my wife, I want to extend a helping hand to care for you, what's wrong with that?"
Moran declared with his arms crossed.
There was no wavering in his gaze.
He dispelled all the gloom that lingered on Gray's face.
Indeed, Moran was looking at Gray.
He was not looking at his princess.
For the first time in over a decade, Gray, who had never felt herself, was no longer afraid of her own face.
"Wuwuwu…"
She cried out, looking quite unrefined.
After all, she was just a young girl.
"Cry as much as you want; confusion and hesitation are also part of life. This is a bitter medicine of life…"
Moran gently stroked Gray's head.
With love, he warmed the girl's scarred heart.
At the same time, he secretly murmured to himself.
Indeed, he had no way to deal with a girl who was so sad and crying.
He saw the once lonely Morgan.
He saw her striving for her parents' love, and even in darkness, she yearned for light.
Moran liked that strong Morgan.
Knowing that Morgan had also suffered like Gray, one not accepted by anyone, one not noticed by anyone.
So similar, so close.
Only Gray was much younger than Morgan.
Pure fairies cannot give birth to children through biological means, but they have the concept of reincarnation.
The first generation of fairies would regard the reincarnated next generation as their children.
And Morgan also had fairy blood.
If Morgan had given birth to a daughter who inherited the fairy bloodline, she would surely resemble Gray very much.
Unfortunately, Gareth and Gawain, as her children, had bloodlines that leaned more towards humans.
"How about it, can you now answer me, Gray?
No matter what choice you make, it's fine. I believe that even if you stay in the Blackmore cemetery, it won't be the same as before.
You will no longer suffer."
Moran's words reached Bersac and the others' ears.
At this moment, they felt utterly ashamed.
They had always ignored Gray's will, thinking that as long as they could welcome back Princess Morgan, it would be enough.
It was not their fault; the Blackmore clan had held on for too long.
For thousands of years, they had been waiting.
The faith of the Blackmore clan was too devout; that sense of mission and faith had dulled their familial bonds.
As subjects, they were undoubtedly excellent.
But they were also blood relatives of Moran.
Britain simply offered blessings, while the Blackmore clan hoped for the princess's return, and everyone was expecting something beautiful.
Moran could not blame them.
He could only say that fate had played a cruel joke.
"Your Majesty… I want to follow you."
Gray raised her head and said.
It was a beautiful face dampened by tears.
She felt the light that dispelled the gloom in her heart, a response given by her own will.
Only the king was looking directly at her.
Gray felt that if she wasn't careful, she would cry again. She casually wiped the corners of her wet eyes, lowered her head, and nodded repeatedly.
"Your Majesty, please, guide me."