The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

Morgana stood in the center of the marble floor, her wrists free, her chains fallen away, and she looked up at the dais where the kings sat.

Or rather, where two of them sat and one stood.

Draeven was back in his throne, his golden eyes burning with a possessive intensity that made her breath catch. He was watching her with the kind of focus that suggested she was the only thing in the entire chamber that mattered, the only thing worth his attention.

Kaelen remained seated in his throne on the right, his pale ice-blue eyes fixed on her with a cold calculation that was no less intense for being emotionless. He was assessing her, understanding her new status, beginning to comprehend what it meant that she was now under their authority, now under their protection, now bound to them in a way that was legal and official and irrevocable.

And Thorne....Thorne was still standing beside her.

He had not returned to his throne. He was standing close enough that she could feel his presence like a physical thing, standing close enough that the court understood he was claiming her, standing close enough that she could, if she tilted her head slightly, see his face when she looked up.

His dark eyes were watching her with an expression that contained something deeper than possession, something more complex than protection. It was the look of someone who understood something about her that even she did not yet understand.

The entire court was staring at her.

The nobles, the ministers, the council members, the servants standing at the back of the chamber...all of them were watching Morgana with expressions that ranged from shock to envy to barely concealed anger.

She had gone from accused criminal to ward of the throne in the space of moments.

She had gone from powerless servant to someone with the direct protection of three kings.

She had gone from invisible to absolutely, undeniably visible.

The weight of all those stares pressed down on her, but she found that she could bear it now. She could bear it because she was not alone. She could bear it because somewhere in this chamber, three men had decided that her life mattered, that her safety mattered, that she mattered.

***

Draeven rose from his throne.

The movement was deliberate, commanding, designed to draw attention away from Morgana and back toward him.

He descended the dais steps with the bearing of someone accustomed to absolute obedience, someone who understood that his word was law, someone who expected that his commands would be executed without question or delay.

When he reached the floor of the chamber, he moved toward Morgana with that same predatory grace that Thorne possessed. But where Thorne’s movement suggested shadow and subterfuge, Draeven’s movement suggested fire and absolute authority.

He stopped a few feet from her and took in her shock, her confusion, her barely restrained emotion.

His golden eyes burned as he looked at her.

Then, without looking away from her face, he turned his head slightly and called out.

”Agnes!”

A woman stepped forward from among the servants lining the back of the chamber.

Agnes was a woman in her mid-fifties, with grey-streaked hair pulled back in a neat bun and a face that had been softened by years of caring for others. She had been a maid in the palace for decades, had served multiple generations of nobility, and was known throughout the palace for her kindness, her competence, and her absolute discretion.

She moved forward quickly and curtsied deeply before the First King.

”Yes, Your Majesty?” she said, her voice respectful and calm.

Draeven gestured toward Morgana.

”Take the king’s ward to her quarters,” he said, his voice carrying a formality that made the entire court understand that this was an official order, that Morgana’s status had shifted irreversibly, that she was now important enough to be called ”the king’s ward” in front of the entire assembled nobility.

”Ensure that her chambers are not far from ours,” Draeven continued. ”Settle her there. Make sure she is fed and well taken care of. She has been through an ordeal, and I expect her to be treated with the utmost care and respect.”

Agnes curtsied again, understanding immediately the significance of what was being asked.

”Yes, Your Majesty. It will be done immediately.”

She turned to Morgana and approached her with the gentle movements of someone accustomed to dealing with frightened or traumatized people.

She took Morgana’s hands gently in her own.

”Come, child,” Agnes said softly, her voice warm and comforting. ”Let’s get you cleaned up and settled into your new chambers. You’ve had quite an ordeal. What you need now is rest, food, and time to process what’s happened.”

Morgana found herself being led away from the center of the marble floor, away from the stares of the court.

But as she left, she glanced back once and saw Thorne watching her go, his dark eyes following her until she disappeared through the doors of the throne room.

***

Once Morgana was gone, the energy of the chamber shifted.

The drama was over. The conspiracy had been exposed. The guilty had been expelled. Justice....of a sort, had been served.

But there was a new reality now, and everyone in the chamber felt it.

Draeven turned to face the court.

His golden eyes swept over the assembled ministers, nobles, and council members.

”I believe we are done here,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of finality.

He glanced toward Cedric, who immediately understood that he was being asked to formally close the proceedings.

Cedric stood and nodded to Draeven.

”Yes, Your Majesty,” he said formally. ”The trial is concluded. The court is dismissed.”

But no one moved.

They were all waiting to see what the kings would do, waiting to understand what this new development meant, waiting for some indication of what came next.

Draeven turned to his brothers.

”Come,” he said to them, his voice carrying an unmistakable command. ”Both of you. We need to talk.”

And with that, he walked from the dais, moved across the marble floor, and exited the chamber through the same doors that Morgana had left moments before.