The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

Kaelen turned from the window.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the candles burning and the distant sounds of the palace settling into evening. Kaelen’s pale eyes met Lysander’s, and in them was a fire that made the servant understand exactly what kind of hungry his king was experiencing.

Kaelen scoffed....a sharp, bitter sound that was more dragon than human.

Then he moved away from the window with sudden purpose. He strode across the chamber and dropped the whiskey glass.

It fell to the stone floor and shattered, the fragments scattering across the surface, the remaining whiskey spreading in a thin amber line.

It was a small gesture. It was also a clear one.

Lysander did not move to clean it up. Not yet. Some gestures required acknowledgment before action.

”I need you to do something for me,” Kaelen said, his voice carrying an edge that suggested this was not a casual request.

”Of course, my King,” Lysander replied immediately. ”Anything.”

Kaelen turned to face him fully, and when he spoke, the words carried the weight of a command that went beyond simple instruction.

”Go to the ward’s chambers,” he said. ”Find Morgana. Tell her I want her to come to mine. This evening.”

The words were delivered without elaboration, without any suggestion that this might be negotiable or optional.

Lysander understood immediately what he was being asked to do.

This was not a simple summoning of a servant. This was the king calling for a woman. And not just any woman....the ward who had consumed so much of the court’s attention, who had become the subject of speculation and whispers, who was protected by all three kings with an intensity that suggested something far beyond casual interest.

This was dangerous.

But it was also Lysander’s duty.

”My King, you want me to summon Morgana to your chambers?” he asked, needing to confirm what he had heard, needing to ensure there was no misunderstanding.

Kaelen’s entire body stilled.

His pale eyes fixed on Lysander with an intensity that made it clear the question was not welcome.

”Is that a problem?” Kaelen’s voice was quiet, but it carried an edge that suggested it very much could become one.

Lysander did not hesitate.

”No, my King. Not a problem. Just... surprised.”

He stood there for a moment, gathering his courage, understanding that what he was about to say could cost him his position. But loyalty....true loyalty, sometimes required speaking uncomfortable truths.

”My King, if I may,” Lysander said carefully, his voice dropping lower, ”there have been speculations around the palace.”

Kaelen’s expression did not change, but Lysander felt the temperature in the room shift.

”The maids have been talking,” Lysander continued, choosing his words with extreme care. ”Some of the other servants too. They say it’s strange, the way you favor her. The way all three of you protect her. There’s talk of... bewitchment. Of her being something unnatural.”

Lysander could see the moment Kaelen’s hand clenched into a fist, could see the pale fire in his eyes burn brighter.

But the king did not interrupt. He allowed Lysander to continue.

”The talk is growing, my King,” Lysander pressed on, understanding he had only moments before Kaelen shut him down completely. ”You might want to... patch that up. Simple reassurance to the servants that the ward is simply a girl under your protection. Nothing more. Nothing strange. Just... common sense management of gossip.”

He finished speaking and immediately bowed his head slightly, understanding that he had pushed his king as far as loyalty allowed.

***

The silence that followed was absolute.

Kaelen did not move. He simply stood there, his pale eyes fixed on Lysander, his entire body radiating a kind of controlled fury that suggested GLACIUS was moments away from breaking through human skin.

Finally, Kaelen spoke.

”Lysander.”

It was just his name. But the way the king said it...cold, final, absolute, made clear that this was a warning and a dismissal in one word.

Lysander understood immediately.

”Get out.”

Lysander bowed his head immediately and moved toward the door.

He had nearly reached it when something made him pause, some impulse born of years of service, of understanding his king, of knowing that beneath the anger was something more complicated.

”Yes, my King,” he said without turning around. ”I’ll bring her message to Morgana. She’ll come. I’ll make sure of it”

It was a statement of reassurance, a confirmation that the task would be completed, a small gesture that acknowledged: I understand what you’re asking, and it will be done.

Kaelen did not respond.

But Lysander felt the moment something in the king’s body relaxed slightly, felt the moment the anger shifted into something else...anticipation, hunger, the raw need that had been driving his beast to distraction.

Lysander opened the door and stepped into the corridor, closing it behind him with quiet care.

***

The corridors of the palace at dusk were a different world than they were during daylight hours.

The shadows were deeper. The torches cast flickering light that made stone walls seem to shift and breathe. Servants moved more quickly, finishing their end-of-day tasks before the full darkness came. The usual hum of palace activity had quieted into something more purposeful, more focused.

Lysander moved through these corridors with the ease of someone who had walked them hundreds of times. He knew which stones were uneven. He knew which torches needed replacing. He knew the rhythm of the palace’s evening, the way servants moved, the pattern of duty and rest.

Morgana’s chambers were in the royal wing, on the same corridor as the kings’ private quarters. The positioning was strategic, close enough for easy access, far enough to maintain appearances of propriety. It was a distance that could be walked in moments, that made clear the ward’s elevated status without making her sleeping space entirely integrated with the kings’ private chambers.

As Lysander walked, he thought about what he was about to do.