The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

As the inspection of the main servants’ quarters drew to a close, word began to spread through the palace like poison through water.

”Calla’s searching everywhere,” a kitchen servant whispered to her friend.

”She’s looking for something,” another maid said, her voice trembling. ”Something serious.”

”Or someone,” an older woman suggested, and that possibility hung in the air, frightening and pregnant with meaning.

The rumors spread to the laundry workers, to the kitchen staff, to the gardeners, to anyone and everyone who worked in the palace’s lower echelons. By noon, the entire palace’s servant network was aware that something unusual was happening.

***

And by early afternoon, news of the inspection had reached the stables.

One of the stable hands...a young boy named Thomas who often ran errands for Garrick, came running into the stables, his eyes wide with excitement and fear.

”Garrick!” he called out. ”Mistress Calla is coming this way! With guards! They’re searching everywhere!”

Garrick, who had been mending a saddle in the tack room, looked up sharply.

The head stable master was a man in his late fifties, with weathered skin and calloused hands that had worked with horses for his entire life. He was known for being fair to his workers and fiercely protective of his domain. He had built the stables into something he was proud of...a well-organized, efficiently run operation that reflected his standards and his care.

”Searching for what?” he asked, setting down his work.

”Nobody knows,” Thomas said breathlessly. ”But she’s got guards with her. And she’s checking every servant’s space. They say she’s looking for stolen goods. Or maybe a fugitive. Or...”

”Or maybe it’s none of our business,” Garrick said, but his mind was already working, already assessing what might happen when an inspection like this reached his domain.

He glanced toward the back of the stables, where the stairs led up to the small room above the hayloft.

The room he’d given to Morgana.

His jaw tightened.

”Make sure everything is in order,” he told Thomas and the other stable hands. ”Clean the stalls. Organize the tack. If Mistress Calla comes here, I want her to see that we run a clean, proper operation.”

But even as he said it, he felt a flutter of unease in his chest.

Something about this didn’t feel routine. Something about this felt deliberate.

He thought of Morgana, and the unease deepened into something closer to dread.

***

Morgana was mucking out one of the stalls when she heard the news.

It came from one of the younger stable hands....a boy named Marcus who’d overheard servants talking near the palace entrance.

”They’re searching everywhere,” Marcus said, leaning against the stall door. ”Mistress Calla and guards and everything. Looking for something.”

Morgana’s hands stilled on the pitchfork.

”Looking for what?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual even as her heart began to beat faster.

”Nobody knows. But they’re tearing through the servants’ quarters. Checking everyone’s things.”

Morgana set down the pitchfork slowly.

Her mind was already moving, already considering possibilities. Had someone reported her magic? Had someone suspected something? Was this about her at all, or was it about something else entirely?

She glanced toward the back of the stables, toward the stairs that led to her room.

The room that contained all of her possessions. The room that was her only refuge. The room that was completely private and completely vulnerable.

”Morgana.”

She turned to see Garrick approaching, his weathered face etched with concern.

”You heard?” he asked.

”Yes,” she said. ”What does it mean?”

Garrick looked at her for a long moment, and she could see the conflict in his eyes, his desire to protect her warring with his uncertainty about what she might actually need protection from.

”I don’t know,” he said finally. ”But I want you to be prepared. If they come here, if Mistress Calla decides to inspect the entire stables including your room, you need to be ready for that.”

”Why would she inspect my room?” Morgana asked, but even as the words left her mouth, she understood. An inspection this thorough wouldn’t skip anything. It would include every space, no matter how separate or private.

”She might,” Garrick said. ”Or she might not. But either way, I want you to know that if anything happens, if anything is wrong, you come to me. Do you understand? You don’t try to handle it alone.”

”Yes,” Morgana said quietly. ”I understand.”

But even as she said it, she felt the first real flutter of fear.

She had done nothing wrong. She knew that. But in her experience, innocence was no protection against accusation. She had learned that lesson years ago, from her mother, from the way they had to hide, from the constant vigilance required to survive.

Innocence was merely the absence of guilt, it was not a shield against lies.

She returned to her work, but her mind was elsewhere, running through possibilities, assessing dangers, calculating what could go wrong.

And then, sometime in the early afternoon, she heard them.

The sound of boots on the stone floor of the stables.

Multiple sets of boots.

The sound of Mistress Calla’s authoritative voice: ”Master Garrick, I trust you have no objection to our continuing the inspection?”

Morgana’s hands clenched on the pitchfork.

They were here.

***

Mistress Calla entered the stables with the same methodical precision she had brought to the servants’ quarters.

Behind her came the guards, the assistants, and the clerk with his parchment and ink.

Garrick stood in the main stable area, his posture carefully neutral, his expression guarded.

”Mistress Calla,” he said, inclining his head respectfully. ”We have just completed our own inspection of the tack and equipment. Everything is in order.”

”I’m sure it is,” Calla said, her gaze already moving around the stables, taking in every detail. ”However, this is a palace-wide security inspection. Everything must be checked, including the stable areas.”

”Of course,” Garrick said, though his jaw tightened slightly. ”How may I be of assistance?”

”You can remain available should I have questions,” Calla said, ”and you will allow my team to inspect every area of this facility without obstruction.”

She turned to one of the guards. ”Begin with the tack room. Check every item. Check for anything that doesn’t belong or seems out of place.”