[Morgana’s POV]
The throne room doors groan as I push them open, the sound echoing off the vaulted ceilings like a death knell. My shoes click against the marble floor as I stride forward, my dark robes billowing behind me like a funeral shroud. The scene before me is exactly what I expected.
Queen Olyndra sits on her ornate throne, her silver-white braids catching the candlelight as she leans forward, her amber eyes sharp with concern. Cardinal Nessa stands before her, crimson robes practically vibrating with righteous indignation, while Matilda lurks in the shadows near the wall, her scarred arms crossed over her chest like a sentinel of judgment.
“…and I’m telling you, Your Majesty, it’s simple,” Nessa is saying, her voice dripping with the kind of certainty that makes my skin crawl. “Christopher cheated on the Hero. He spat in the face of the goddesses themselves. He should be put to death.”
Matilda steps forward, her weathered face set in grim lines. “I agree. The boy’s a disgrace.”
I clear my throat, and three pairs of eyes snap toward me. The Queen’s expression softens slightly. Nessa’s hardens. Matilda just glares at nothing in particular.
“Royal Mage,” the Queen acknowledges, gesturing for me to approach. “Where is Christopher now?”
“He’s in a cell, Your Majesty. I put him to sleep, just as your page instructed.”
The Queen gives a single, slow nod. Her amber eyes are unreadable, but I can see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers grip the armrests of her throne just a little too tightly. She’s calculating. She always is.
“My Queen,” Nessa says, turning back to the throne with that predatory grace of hers, “the boy is a whore. A danger to the church. He needs to be killed. Tonight. Before his corruption spreads.”
I feel my stomach clench, but I keep my face perfectly still.
“There are no laws that dictate we can kill cursed men, Cardinal,” the Queen says, and her voice is quiet but it cuts through the room like a blade. “You know that.”
Nessa’s nostrils flare. She takes a step closer to the throne, her crimson robes swishing against the marble. “Surely this is an exception. The Hero was betrayed. The goddesses marked him. And you know as well as I do that your predecessor was on her way to putting that very law in place before…“
“Well,” the Queen interrupts, and her voice drops to something that could freeze a bonfire, “I’m not her, am I?”
Nessa’s teeth clench so hard I can hear them grinding from here. Her grey eyes flash with something ugly, something she’s smart enough to keep behind her teeth for now. She takes a half-step back, but her posture stays rigid, coiled, like a snake waiting to strike.
Matilda shifts in the shadows, her scarred arms still crossed over her chest. “Isn’t the law that if a man cheats on a noble, the noble gets the final say?” she asks, her voice gruff and practical. “That’s how it works for everyone else.”
I nod. “Yes. The wronged party decides the punishment.”
Matilda’s sharp brown eyes flick to me, then back to the Queen. “Well, Brooke is a hero. All heroes become royalty or nobility. That’s the tradition. So why wouldn’t we just leave it up to her?”
The silence that follows is delicious.
Nessa’s face transforms. The anger melts away like snow in spring, and in its place blooms this slow, terrible smile. It spreads across her face like a crack in ice, and her grey eyes go bright with something that looks almost like joy.
“Yes,” she says, and her voice is silk wrapped around a knife. “Yes, of course. If the Hero wishes for it, then the boy should hang.”
The Queen sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly as she falls back in her throne. “Matilda,” she says, her voice heavy with exhaustion, “can you bring Brooke to us?”
Matilda’s face hardens. “The Hero is inconsolable, Your Majesty. She’s locked herself in her chambers, refuses to see anyone.”
“This is such a mess...”
“Matilda,” I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “Tell Brooke it’s life or death for Christopher. She’ll come if you do that.”
Matilda studies me for a long moment, her scarred face unreadable. Finally, she gives a curt nod. “Alright... I guess I’ll give that a shot.”
As Matilda turns to leave, Nessa’s lips curl into a smile that makes my skin crawl. “Oh, so you do want to see the whore die?” she asks, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
I meet her gaze directly, refusing to flinch. “No. No one besides your creepy experiment will be dying tonight.”
The Cardinal’s smile vanishes, replaced by a look of pure hatred. “How dare you speak of Luna that way. She was…”
“Tell me, Cardinal,” I say, my voice cutting her off, “what exactly was Luna? Because I asked around and the only thing I found for certain is that she was an experiment made with ‘ancient magic.’”
Nessa’s face goes white, then red. Her hand clenches around her holy symbol so hard her knuckles crack. “How dare you…“
“Enough.” The Queen’s voice rings out, sharp and final. “We’re not discussing the things my predecessor did tonight.”
The silence that follows is thick enough to choke on.
Then we wait. The minutes stretch on and on, each one more excruciating than the last. The candles flicker, casting dancing shadows across the throne room walls.
The doors creak open. Brooke steps into the throne room.
She looks like hell. Her blonde hair is a tangled mess, her eyes swollen and bloodshot from crying. The tears have dried, replaced by something harder, something dangerous. She’s cried herself into anger, and now that anger burns in her blue eyes like a wildfire.
“Brooke,” the Queen says, her voice softening. “I know your feelings are raw... but this is a delicate matter that needs to be handled quickly.”
Brooke’s jaw tightens. She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t look at anyone but the Queen. Her hands are clenched into fists at her sides, her knuckles white.
“Hero,” Nessa says, stepping forward. “Do the right thing. Have the boy put to death.”
Brooke’s head snaps toward Nessa, her blue eyes wide with shock. “What the fuck?” she says, her voice cracking. She turns to Matilda, her expression shifting from anger to disbelief. “You were being serious about the life or death thing?”
Matilda nods, her scarred face grim. “Yeah.”
“Kill?” Brooke’s voice rises, incredulous. “Chris is a piece of shit, but he’s like... he definitely doesn’t deserve to die.”
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. Perfect. Just as I predicted. Brooke’s sense of justice is too strong, her heart too soft despite her anger.
The Queen addresses Brooke. “Then what would you like in return from Christopher?”
Brooke’s shoulders slump, the fight draining out of her. “I don’t want anything from him,” she says, her voice hollow. “I just never want to see him again.”
Nessa’s face contorts with rage. She steps forward, her crimson robes billowing around her like blood in water. “Surely a hand... or a flogging...” she hisses, her voice tight with barely contained fury.
Brooke’s head whips around, her eyes flashing with genuine horror. “What? No! What the hell is wrong with you people?”
The Cardinal’s face purples, her hands trembling at her sides. “He betrayed you! He betrayed the goddesses! He must be punished!”
Brooke’s eyes find mine, desperation written across her tear-streaked face. “Morgana,” she says, her voice cracking. “Didn’t you say the curse is like the worst thing ever? Isn’t Chris’s life fucked now? Surely that’s enough?”
“The curse is indeed... devastating,” I say, keeping my voice measured. “His life will never be the same.”
The Queen nods solemnly. “Yes, I agree. The goddesses have already passed their judgment.”
Without a word, Nessa spins on her heel and storms out of the throne room, her footsteps echoing like thunder against the marble floor.
Matilda turns to Brooke, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t agree with you, Brooke. But I respect it’s your decision to make.”
With a heavy sigh, she follows Nessa out, leaving just the three of us in the vast chamber.
The Queen leans forward, her amber eyes studying Brooke with unexpected gentleness. “Then you’re okay with Christopher still pursuing being a hero?”
Brooke’s shoulders stiffen. “I don’t care what he does,” she says, the anger returning to her voice like a shield. “He’s dead to me.”
The Queen nods slowly. “I understand. Thank you for your time, Hero Brooke.”
As Brooke turns to leave, I fall into step beside her. The throne room doors close behind us with a heavy thud, and suddenly we’re alone in the corridor, the only sound our footsteps against the stone floor.
Brooke’s composure crumbles the moment we’re out of sight. Tears well in her eyes again, spilling over onto her cheeks as she leans against the cold wall. Her shoulders shake with silent sobs.
“I’m so sorry, Brooke,” I say, placing a gentle hand on her arm. The lie comes so easily to my lips. “This must be devastating for you.”
She looks up at me, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “Is there any chance...” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Is there any possibility he didn’t cheat? The soldiers told me he was so drunk... she could have raped him, right?”
I feel a laugh bubbling up in my chest, a wild, hysterical sound that I force down with every ounce of my self-control. My face remains a mask of sympathy as I shake my head slowly.
“The mark doesn’t lie, Brooke,” I say, my voice heavy with false regret. “I’m sorry.”
She wheezes.
“Ahh, fuck...” Brooke whispers, her voice cracking. “I loved him so much...”
I place my hand on her shoulder. “I know,” I say softly. “I know you did.”
Her hands shoot out suddenly, gripping my shoulders.
“You have to keep him safe.” Her voice is raw, stripped of all pretense. “I know he’s a piece of shit... but if the mark is as bad as you said, someone has to look out for him, okay?”
I blink at her, genuinely surprised. This is even easier than I’d hoped. The perfect setup, handed to me on a silver platter.
“Christopher is likely to be shipped off tomorrow,” I say, keeping my voice carefully measured, concerned. “Would you like me to go with him?”
I already know I’m going, regardless of her answer. But having her blessing makes everything so much simpler.
Brooke’s shoulders slump, relief washing over her tear-streaked face. “He’ll need your help more than I would...” She swallows hard. “Please... I don’t want him to be raped or killed...”
“Of course, Brooke,” I say, my voice dropping to a gentle whisper. “I promise to keep him safe.”
“Thank you…”