The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

The sitting room was designed to be beautiful and to be impressive.

It was one of the palace’s finer chambers, positioned in the south wing where afternoon light flooded through tall windows. The furniture was delicate, crafted from pale wood with intricate carvings. Cushioned chairs were arranged in a careful circle that suggested intimacy while maintaining formality. A table held a silver tea service, china cups with delicate handles, and an array of small pastries arranged on tiered platters.

This was the room where noble daughters entertained each other, where they discussed marriage prospects and fashion and the endless intricacies of palace life.

Today, it was a hunting ground.

Morgana entered with Lia at her side, and the moment her presence registered in the room, she felt the change in attention. All eyes turned toward her. All conversation ceased. There was a moment of silence where the noble daughters took in her appearance....the fine cream gown, the carefully arranged hair, the composure that had not been there weeks ago when Morgana had been a servant.

Lady Margot rose first.

Her gown was fine but not ostentatious, her jewelry carefully chosen to suggest wealth without demanding attention. She moved toward Morgana with the grace of someone accustomed to controlling rooms through presence alone.

”Morgana,” Margot said, extending her hand in greeting. ”We are so pleased you accepted our invitation.”

Her voice was warm, the smile genuine-appearing, but Morgana heard the calculation beneath the words.

Other noble daughters rose as well. There were five of them gathered...Lady Margot, Lady Rose, Lady Catherine (a thin girl with nervous eyes), Lady Sophia (who had barely spoken during the Selection), and another girl whose name Morgana was not entirely certain of. These were not the girls who had competed so fiercely in the Selection before. These were the ones who remained, who were still searching for advantage, still hoping for the kings’ attention.

”Thank you for inviting me,” Morgana replied, taking Margot’s hand briefly and then withdrawing. ”It was kind of you.”

She was being polite but not warm, respectful but not submissive. A careful balance.

The noble daughters gestured for her to sit, and Morgana chose a chair that gave her view of the entire room. Lia positioned herself near the door, ready to assist but removed enough to observe without seeming to intrude.

Lady Margot settled herself in the chair across from Morgana.

”Please, have some tea,” Margot said, gesturing to the silver pot. ”We have had it brought fresh from the kitchens.”

A servant poured, and Morgana accepted the cup. She held it carefully, warming her hands on the porcelain, but she did not drink.

***

The conversation began with the usual courtesies.

Questions about whether Morgana was adjusting to her new position. Comments about how unusual her elevation was. Gentle observations about the changes in the palace since the trial that had exposed Isolde’s conspiracy.

But beneath these pleasantries, Morgana sensed the hunting.

It was not obvious. The noble daughters were too practiced in palace politics to show their true intentions openly. But it was there in the way they watched her, in the careful nature of their questions, in the way each comment seemed designed to gather information rather than simply make conversation.

Lady Catherine asked, ”Your chambers in the royal wing must be quite different from the servants’ quarters?”

The question ostensibly innocent, but really asking: what access do you have? How close are you to the kings?

Lady Sophia observed, ”The kings seem quite occupied with affairs of state lately. Do you see them often?”

Again, seemingly casual, but really asking: are you in their presence? Do you have their attention?

Morgana answered these questions carefully, offering truth without depth.

”The chambers are very fine, yes. Though I confess I still find the palace somewhat overwhelming.”

And: ”The kings are busy, as are all men of importance. I see them when my duties allow.”

She was being honest while revealing nothing of significance. She was saying things that made it clear she understood her position without claiming more than what was stated.

The noble daughters exchanged glances. Morgana caught the communication passing between them, the silent agreement that they needed to move forward, to begin the actual business of this meeting.

Lady Margot set down her tea cup with care.

”Morgana,” she said, her voice becoming slightly more serious, ”we wanted to meet with you because we felt it was important. Your situation is quite extraordinary.”

Morgana waited, her expression open but not encouraging.

”The kings have shown you a remarkable degree of favor,” Margot continued. ”To claim you as their ward, to elevate you from servant to someone of importance in their household...this is unprecedented. Unusual. The kind of thing that causes people to wonder.”

She paused, as if allowing Morgana to respond, but Morgana simply listened.

”We thought,” Margot said carefully, ”that it might be useful for you to know that we understand your position. That we recognize that your elevation, while wonderful, might also be isolating. That you might find it difficult to navigate these new circumstances without guidance from those who understand palace life.”

Morgana understood what was happening.

This was the opening move in the hunt. Lady Margot was establishing herself as someone who understood Morgana, someone who could help her, someone who might become an ally. It was the initial approach before the actual demands came.

”I appreciate your concern,” Morgana said quietly. ”Though I confess I am learning quite well on my own.”

Lady Margot’s smile did not falter, but something shifted behind her eyes.

”Of course,” she said. ”You seem quite capable. We simply thought you might benefit from knowing that you have friends among us. That we are not your enemies.”

The word ”enemies” hung in the air for just a moment longer than was comfortable.

Morgana set down her tea cup, still untouched, still steaming gently.

”I did not assume you were my enemies,” she said. ”Though I understand that the Selection has been... complicated for all of you.”