After observing the farmers for a while, Lot and Morgan continued their journey.
Along the way, Morgan finally witnessed Lot's genius firsthand.
Fields lush with crops, towns bustling with commerce—even the commoners walking by wore genuine smiles.
Their lives seemed carefree, a stark contrast to the rest of Britain.
No, calling other regions "poor" would be generous.
The gap in living standards was enormous.
Does Lot suppress his nobles to achieve this?
Morgan once wondered.
But when she saw the nobles, she realized how wrong she was.
Each noble rode fine horses in lavish attire, many looking like newly rich upstarts.
People mock the nouveau riche for lacking refinement…
But refinement doesn't pay the bills. These nobles are filthy rich.
Suddenly, Morgan felt like the country bumpkin visiting the city.
She wanted to ask Lot about it—
But then she noticed him reading a book intently.
Huh. Lot's a bookworm?
She peeked—and froze.
The text wasn't in any script she recognized.
Blocky, foreign characters.
What is this? I can't read it.
Her eyes flicked to Lot.
[Ah Bin's high school grades were not ideal…]
She caught a snippet of his thoughts.
After a few more lines, her face burned crimson.
WHAT KIND OF BOOK IS THIS!?
Lot lay sprawled on his horse, expression serious as if studying military strategy—
But the content was anything but.
With a swift motion, Morgan snatched the book from his hands.
Caught off guard, Lot blinked in confusion.
"Lot, no reading while riding. I won't have my future husband crippled by a fall."
"Ahem, just killing time." Lot chuckled awkwardly. "Fine, I'll stop."
Getting caught reading "adult literature" by your fiancée isn't a good look.
At least Morgan can't read Chinese. My dignity's safe.
Note to self: Don't get caught again.
Morgan didn't need mind-reading to guess his relief.
Think I can't understand the book?
But I can understand you.
Lot, you horny dog, if only you used that brain for noble pursuits!
This trash is bad for your health.
Now that I'm here, consider your alone time over.
Besides, why read when you have me?
Outwardly, she merely said:
"No more reckless behavior."
But deep down, Lot felt a premonition.
My carefree days are over.
Ugh… I barely got to enjoy this.
Seeing his dejection, Morgan's heart softened.
Well… teenage curiosity is normal.
Maybe I'll allow it occasionally.
Then she caught herself.
Wait, why should he read when he has me?
I'm far better looking than some book!
Arrival at Orkney Castle
The party soon reached Lot's castle.
Lot gestured proudly, excitement flashing in his eyes.
Morgan studied the structure critically.
Recently built, about fifteen meters tall, plenty of windows.
Nice, but nothing extraordinary.
After the thriving farms and wealthy towns, her expectations had soared.
Like hearing someone's child is the city's top student… only to find they're just aiming for a decent university.
Good, but not legendary.
She'd forgotten her initial fear of living in a tribal wasteland.
Lot raised the bar too high.
Curious, she tuned into his thoughts.
[Traveling is exhausting. I'm staying put from now on.]
[Morgan's gonna love this.]
Huh? There's more inside?
And did you just say you're never leaving?
Lot, your talents are wasted here!
As my husband, you will help me rule Camelot—then all Britain!
Even conquer the mainland!
Come fight by my side!
As Morgan fumed, Lot dismounted and offered his hand.
Their fingers touched—
A jolt of electricity passed between them.
This is… our first physical contact.
Flustered, Morgan gracefully dismounted.
"Show me what's inside."
[Damn, she's adorable!]
Lot's unguarded thought made her cheeks warm.
At least he appreciates me.
The grand doors swung open, revealing rows of servants in uniform.
"Welcome home, Your Majesty!"
Morgan eyed them—well-trained, but…
Rugged features, not exactly easy on the eyes.
Lot sighed internally.
Sigh. If only they were prettier.
At least they're clean now.
Give it a generation—better nutrition, better looks.
Then the servants bowed again.
"Welcome, Your Majesty the Queen."
Days ago, I was a princess. Now I'm a queen?
The absurdity almost made her laugh.
But she focused on the castle.
No dampness, despite the sea air.
Sunlight floods every corner—no need for torches.
Plush carpets underfoot.
A spiral staircase? First time seeing one.
A full-length mirror.
Morgan's jaw dropped.
This… must cost a fortune.
Where did he even get this?
But she sensed no magical traces.
She glanced at Lot, hoping for an explanation.
[Heh, Morgan's shocked.]
[Spent years saving up to customize my dream home.]
[Wait till she sees the rest—hope she doesn't get addicted.]
Ugh! You're bragging instead of explaining!
You think I'll laze around like you?
My ambitions are far greater.
Lot's thoughts painted him as a lazy hedonist—
Yet his actions transformed Orkney into a paradise.
Just a bit unmotivated.
Don't worry, horny dog.
I'll put that brilliant mind to work.
No slacking on my watch!
Her triumphant smile widened.
"Let's eat. The chef prepared local specialties."
Thank god I didn't rely on that "British Cuisine" book from the River of Time.
Page 1: Fish and chips.
Page 2: Chips and fish.
Last page: Stargazy Pie.
Luckily, his pre-transmigration cooking skills saved him.
"I hope you'll enjoy our dishes."
"As long as it's not that spicy red stuff," Morgan stipulated.
"Of course." Lot grinned.
Teasing your wife with food she hates isn't funny—it's just mean.