The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

Cedric, the head minister of the king’s council, rose from his bench.

In his hands, he carried a scroll.

He moved to the front of the chamber and unrolled it with deliberate ceremony.

The sound of parchment unrolling echoed through the vast space.

”Morgana of Ashford,” Cedric said, his voice amplified by the acoustics of the throne room so that it seemed to come from everywhere at once, ”you stand before this council accused of a crime most serious.”

He paused, allowing the weight of those words to settle.

”You are accused of theft,” he continued. ”Specifically, the theft of a gold and ruby necklace belonging to Lady Margot of House Ashford. This necklace was reported missing days ago and was subsequently found in your personal belongings during a routine inspection conducted by Mistress Calla, head of palace household staff.”

Morgana’s voice, when she spoke, was small but steady.

”I didn’t steal it.”

Cedric’s gaze lifted from the scroll and fixed on her with the kind of clinical detachment that suggested he had heard this denial countless times before and had never once believed it.

”The evidence suggests otherwise,” he said flatly.

”Then the evidence is wrong,” Morgana said, and Draeven heard the fear beneath her words, heard the desperate need for someone to believe her, heard the beginning of despair as she realized that no one in this room was going to.

”I have never seen that necklace before,” she continued. ”I don’t know how it got into my trunk, but I swear to you, I didn’t put it there. Someone put it there. Someone did this deliberately to frame me.”

The murmurs that rippled through the crowd were not sympathetic.

They were skeptical.

Condemning.

Morgana glanced around the room, as if looking for someone, anyone, who might believe her.

But there was no one.

The nobles looked at her with thinly veiled disdain. The servants looked at her with a mixture of pity and judgment. The council members looked at her with the same clinical detachment that Cedric wore like a mask.

Cedric set down the scroll.

”The accused denies the charge,” he said formally. ”However, we have testimony from multiple witnesses.”

He gestured to the side of the chamber.

”We will now hear from those who have knowledge of the crime or of the accused’s behavior.”

Cedric turned back to Morgana.

”You will be given the opportunity to defend yourself after all testimony has been presented,” he said. ”At that time, you may respond to the accusations against you. Until then, you will remain silent.”

It was said as a fact, not a request.

Morgana nodded, though the motion seemed to cost her great effort.

And then the witnesses began to arrive.

***

Mistress Calla approached the front of the chamber.

Cedric gestured for her to stand before the council.

”State your name and position,” Cedric said, though he clearly already knew both.

”Mistress Calla,” she said, her voice firm and clear. ”Head of household staff. I oversee all matters related to the cleanliness, organization, and maintenance of the palace proper.”

”And you conducted the inspection during which the necklace was discovered?”

”I did.”

”Tell the court what you discovered,” Cedric said.

Calla’s gaze flicked toward Morgana.

For just a moment...barely a fraction of a second, something flickered across her face.

Regret.

Doubt.

The smallest hint that she knew something was not quite right about this situation.

But it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the mask of professional duty.

”I was conducting a routine inspection of the servants’ quarters,” Calla said, her voice steady and factual. ”When I came to the room assigned to the accused, a private space in the stables provided to her by the stable master, I instructed her to open her personal trunk.”

Morgana’s eyes widened.

Thorne’s dark gaze sharpened.

”When I examined the contents of that trunk,” Calla continued, ”I found a necklace, hidden beneath her clothing and personal effects.”

”Hidden?” Cedric asked, and his inflection suggested that this detail was significant.

”Yes,” Calla said. ”It was not immediately visible when I opened the trunk, but it was there, deliberately placed beneath her other belongings in a way that suggested an attempt to conceal it.”

”And did the accused offer any explanation for how the necklace came to be in her possession?”

Morgana’s voice shook. ”I told her I didn’t put it there....”

”You will speak when called upon,” Cedric said coldly.

Morgana fell silent, her hands clenching into fists.

”She claimed she had never seen it before,” Calla said, ”and suggested that someone must have planted it. But there was no evidence to support that claim.”

Cedric made a note on the parchment before him.

”Thank you, Mistress Calla,” he said.

Calla stepped back, and as she passed Morgana, their eyes met for just a moment.

And in that moment, Morgana saw something in Calla’s face that looked very much like apology.

But it was already too late.

***

Lady Margot approached the front of the chamber with the bearing of someone who understood her position in society and expected to be treated accordingly.

She curtsied to the kings, a perfunctory gesture, and then turned to face the council.

”Lady Margot,” Cedric said, ”the necklace in question belongs to you?”

”It does,” Margot said. ”It was a gift from my father. A piece of considerable sentimental value.”

”And when did you notice it was missing?”

”Three days ago. I reported it immediately to Mistress Calla.”

”Did you have any reason to suspect the accused specifically?” Cedric asked.

Margot hesitated.

The hesitation was brief...barely perceptible, but it was there.

”No,” she said finally. ”I had no reason to suspect her specifically.”

Then she added, almost as an afterthought: ”But servants are always taking things that don’t belong to them. It’s not surprising, given their circumstances.”

Morgana’s fists clenched so tightly that her nails cut crescents into her palms.

The casual cruelty of Margot’s statement. the absolute indifference to whether an innocent person was being condemned, seemed to settle over the courtroom like a chill.

Margot stepped back, and Cedric made another note.

The impression was clear: even the victim of the alleged theft had no real investment in justice. She simply wanted her necklace back and didn’t much care what happened to the person accused of taking it.