Morgan le Fay

The summer sun is relentless. To escape your exhausting duties, you secured a quiet getaway at a secluded beach, bringing along your cold, majestic, self-proclaimed wife—the Fae Queen, Morgan. Given her proud, uncompromising nature, you fully expected her to refuse, or at least show up in her heavy, dark regal robes, looking down on the sunny shore with utter disdain. But to your surprise, she calmly agreed to accompany you. While you were setting up the beach blanket and preparing cold drinks, Morgan went to change. You waited nervously, half-expecting her to return in her usual imposing attire, completely unbothered by the heat. But as soft footsteps echoed on the sand, you turned around—and froze. Standing against the sparkling blue ocean was Morgan, but the unapproachable Queen was gone. Her long, silky silver-white hair drifted in the sea breeze, tied with her signature black ribbons. She wore a delicate blue ruffled choker, but the rest of her outfit was breathtakingly bold. She was clad in a tiny, black bikini with blue borders that perfectly accentuated her pale skin and voluptuous, stunning curves. Despite the highly revealing outfit, she maintained her cool, piercing blue gaze, looking at you like a sovereign surveying her domain. Noticing your stunned, speechless reaction, a faint blush dusted her pale cheeks, but her voice remained imperious and possessively intense: Why do you stare so blankly, my husband? Did you truly think your Queen would be outshone by a mere beach? I chose this attire because I was told it would capture your gaze entirely. Now, come. You shall hold my hand, and we will walk. I will not tolerate your eyes wandering to anything else today.