"You don't belong here, Morgana."
Those were the words I meant to say to her imnediately I entered my father's court, but instead I stood stiff and breathless at the edge of the Great Hall. The words trapped in my throat like a curse never cast.
I fastened my leather belt around my waiste, I looked scruffy still wearing the dirty clothes I wore for swords practice in the forest.
I watched as my father, the man I once believed carved of sunlight and truth lifted Morgana's pale hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, his voice echoing through the spired ceilings like a stranger's.
I cringed with disgust.
I leaned closer listening to that declaration he wanted to make, somehow I already knew in my heart where this was going.
"My beloved realm," he declared, his tone grand and eerily hollow, like that of the ancient grand pixie "it is with great joy that I announce my union with Lady Morgana, we shall be wedded on the day of the Silver dome and she shall be your queen."
No!!
Morgana, our queen!.
I heard Gasps ripple through the court like thunder in velvet. The jeweled heads of nobles turned, their faces unreadable beneath layers of diplomacy as they looked at each other in dismay , I could feel their eyes flicker to me like moths to a flame, waiting for the outburst. The infamous fifth daughter of the Lord of the realm, the trouble maker, the one who never fit, the royal rebel.
Morgana stood beside the king my father, draped in gossamer silver that shimmered like moonlight on black water. Her wings, vast and translucent, arched like a cathedral canopy, whispering through the air with every slight movement. Her lips were the red of bloodroot, and her brows were drawn too long, too black, too thick making her expression always seem mocking. Her eyes, however, those endless black wells never blinked, not once. She looked ghostly.
"No," I muttered. And then louder. "No."
My boots echoed over the obsidian marble as I stepped forward, past the guards, past courtiers frozen in decorum, the hall silent.
"You barely mourned my mother the late queen, and now you want to give her crown to a stranger?" My voice shook, but I didn't care. Let them hear me rage.
A deeper hush fell like snowfall. My sisters shrank behind their jeweled fans, Maravine paled and Avaline bit her lip. No one moved.
And I didn't care about anything else at the moment, I only wanted to open my father's eyes to the reality Infront of him... Morgana the vile witch.
My father turned his gaze to me. His once kind and loving eyes now fogged and glassy and held no warmth. I searched them, desperate for a flicker of the man who used to tuck me into bed with songs of the sun and stars, but there was nothing.
"Hush, Evangeline," he said coldly. "You speak out of turn."
"Out of turn?" I scoffed. "I'm your daughter! Your blood! Does that mean nothing now that a silver-winged snake has slithered into our court?"
Everyone in the hall gasped. Even the guards stiffened.
Morgana's lips twitched not quite a smile,more like satisfaction, then she stared into my eyes so deeply, liks she wanted to snatch my soul.
Before I could continue to speak my brother Jade stepped forward.
My brother, My twin flame. The only one who ever truly saw me.
"Enough!" he snapped.
He crossed the space between us in a few long strides. "You dishonor the king and this court. You shame our family."
"Then maybe our family should feel ashamed!" I shouted enraged.
"Dad, you have over fifty concubines in your harem, pick one of them and make her queen, not just this vile pixie witch!"
Before I could blink, Jade's hand struck my cheek. A white-hot flash tore through my vision, the room tilted. The sound of the slap echoed like a war drum.
Everyone gasped again, a lady dropped her goblet. Wine spread like blood across the floor.
I stood still, Shaking , feeling betrayed.
Jade's hand trembled. Regret flickered in his eyes but he said nothing.
I stared at Jade with tears in my eyes, I wouldn't believe in a thousand years my brother would hit me.
Jade made to reach for me and hold my hands perhaps to sooth my nerves but I turned around tears blurring my vision, my face burned with anger. My feet moved before I realized I'd chosen flight over fight.
I ran out of the throne chamber, my wings rustling violently, my boots stomping down the golden steps of the palace. My heart pounded in my throat. My chest ached with unshed tears and fury.
The air outside was thick with heat and hummingbird song, but I barely noticed. I was still aching from the aftermath of my brother's humiliation.
I made it to the corridor between the western halls and the marble gardens when a voice slithered behind me.
I could smell her even before she spoke
"Such drama," Morgana cooed.
I whirled around. She stood in the shadow of a column, her silver dress shimmering like snake scales in the light.
"Did you come to mock me?" I snapped.
"I don't need to mock what mocks itself," she replied smoothly. She stepped closer, her heels silent on the floor. "You wear your temper like a tattered veil, Evangeline. It flatters no one."
"You don't belong here," I said, the words escaping at last.
"Oh, but I do." She circled me, her voice low and syrupy. "You see, your father.. hahaha your precious, confused fathe, he invited me, welcomed me here. He Loves me."
"You poisoned him."
"I enlightened him." She tilted her head. Her black eyes gleamed. "Your mother was a faded tapestry. Nostalgic. Delicate. But so terribly weak."
I lunged forward my dagger just an inch from her throat before I stopped myself. My fists clenched. My wings flared.
Morgana didn't flinch.
She leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of my ear.
"You should smile more, little spark," she whispered. "You're prettier when you accept your place."
I pulled away. "My place isn't beneath you."
"No," she said, turning away with a laugh. "It's beneath everyone."
And with that, she vanished into the palace corridor, her silver wings brushing the columns like whispers.
I stood there alone, my heart pounding, the sting of Jade's slap still searing my cheek, Morgana's words echoing in my bones.
I would not let this stand.
Not for my mother. Not for Aetherion.
And not for myself.