The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

Thorne’s voice drifted back to him: ”Since when did we start caring what the council of elders thinks? We are kings. We should be able to do what we want.”

Draeven understood the logic. He understood Thorne’s position. He understood the frustration behind the words.

Because yes, they were kings. Yes, they had power. Yes, technically, they could march into the dungeons, free Morgana, present her to the council, and dare anyone to question their authority.

They could save her openly.

They could protect her with their status and their power.

They could make the entire situation disappear simply by deciding it should.

But the cost of doing so would be catastrophic.

Because if they openly intervened for a servant girl, if they used their royal authority to override the justice system for someone of no consequence....every noble house in the kingdom would interpret that as the kings being willing to be manipulated by those they favored.

They would see it as weakness.

They would see it as proof that to capture the kings’ attention was to gain absolute power.

And Morgana would become a prize.

Not a person.

A prize to be fought over, bargained for, used as leverage in political games.

Every ambitious noble house would try to get close to her. Every power-hungry faction would attempt to control her. Every enemy of the throne would use her as a weapon against them.

The kings wouldn’t be saving Morgana by acting openly.

They would be condemning her to something far worse than death: they would be condemning her to a life of manipulation and use and constant danger.

At least death would be an escape.

But political destruction? Political weaponization? That would be endless.

So the careful path was necessary.

The hidden path. The path that involved finding proof, uncovering the conspiracy, demonstrating that Morgana was innocent through proper channels rather than royal decree.

It would take longer. It would be more painful. It would require trusting that Simon could accomplish the impossible in two days.

But it was the only path that ended with Morgana safe.

Draeven understood this intellectually.

But his heart didn’t care about intellectual understanding.

His heart wanted to save her now. Immediately. Openly.

His heart wanted to drag Isolde before the council and force a confession.

His heart wanted to burn the whole palace down if that’s what it took to protect Morgana.

But he was a king, and kings didn’t follow their hearts.

Kings made calculated decisions designed to protect not just one person, but an entire kingdom.

Even when that meant sacrificing their own sanity in the process.

But beneath the political calculation, beneath the strategic thinking, there was something else.

Something that was eating at him with increasing intensity as the trial date approached.

The dragons.

His dragon responded when Morgana was near. All three of their dragons responded. The connection was undeniable, visceral, real.

When Morgana was in the palace, all three brothers could feel it, a subtle vibration in their blood, a calling in their very bones, as if something deep and primal within them recognized her.

But the dragons didn’t claim her.

They didn’t treat her as theirs.

They didn’t respond to her the way they should respond to the one who was supposed to break their curse.

The Mother of Dragons was supposed to call to them. She was supposed to trigger an instinctive response in them to protect her, to claim her, to bind her to them.

But none of that was happening.

Instead, there was this strange, incomplete connection. A response that suggested something significant was happening, but not the response that should happen.

It was as if the dragons recognized something in her, but couldn’t confirm what.

As if they suspected but couldn’t validate.

As if she was important, but not in the way they expected.

And that terrified Draeven more than any political consequence could.

Because if Morgana wasn’t the one they were looking for, if she was something else, something the dragons couldn’t fully recognize, then everything was different.

Then the prophecy was still incomplete.

Then they were still cursed.

Then Morgana’s significance was something else entirely.

And if the dragons wouldn’t claim her, then how could the kings openly claim her?

If they couldn’t claim her as the chosen one, then how could they justify protecting her?

How could they position her as anything other than a personal fancy that had overridden their judgment?

The lack of dragon response wasn’t just a mystery.

It was a vulnerability that threatened to undermine everything.

Draeven stood and moved to the window.

Outside, the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold and deep purple.

As Draeven watched the light fade, he couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread.

Two days.

Simon had two days.

And even if Simon succeeded, even if he found absolute proof of Isolde’s conspiracy, the dragon problem would remain.

The mystery of why Morgana’s presence created such a strong response without triggering an actual claim would remain unanswered.

And that mystery was almost as dangerous as the false accusation.

He took a very deep breath.

He forced himself to center. To remember what he was, what he had to do, what the actual priorities were.

A girl’s life was at stake.

The political stability of the kingdom was at stake.

The future of the curse and its potential breaking were at stake.

But right now, in this moment, all of that came down to one thing: Simon had to find the proof.

If Simon found the proof, then Morgana could be cleared.

Once she was cleared, the kings could move more openly to protect her.

Once she was protected, they would have time to solve the dragon problem.

But that all started with Simon succeeding in the next two days.

Draeven forced his mind away from spiraling. He forced his attention back to the documents on his desk.

He picked up his quill.

And he continued to sign.