The wind howled through the narrow streets of Lunaris, carrying whispers of what had transpired in the throne room. The city that had always thrived on a balance of creativity and controlled madness now seemed to quiver under the weight of Morganna's influence. Though most of its citizens remained oblivious, those who understood the undercurrents of power felt the ripples of unease. The Crimson Witch was no longer just a presence—she was a storm brewing above Lunaris, ready to shatter whatever semblance of order remained.
Morganna moved through the labyrinthine alleys of the capital, her steps measured, her mind still savoring the looks on the princes' faces as their reality crumbled. It was always the same—the powerful, the entitled, believing they could master her, bring her to heel. They were mistaken, of course. Morganna had never once been under anyone's control but her own.
Her destination lay ahead—a dilapidated building with the remnants of grandiose architecture suggesting it had once been something more. An old guild hall, perhaps, abandoned after a botched revolution, now overtaken by weeds and forgotten memories. Morganna slipped through the creaking door, greeted by the dim glow of a dozen candles that flickered in greeting.
"You kept them waiting," Lucian's voice drawled from the shadows. He emerged, his eyes narrowed, an exasperated expression etched on his face. He looked at her, disapproval and reluctant admiration warring in his gaze. "You really have a knack for theatrics, don't you?"
Morganna smiled, tilting her head. "What is life without a bit of drama, Lucian?"
Lucian sighed, rubbing his temples. "The entire city will be in turmoil by morning. The nobles are losing their minds trying to figure out what happened. And the princes—"
"The princes," Morganna interrupted, her voice a slow purr, "are precisely where I need them to be. Confused. Afraid. Doubting each other. They will tear themselves apart without any further nudging from me." She moved closer, her eyes glinting with malice. "It's exactly what they deserve, wouldn't you agree?"
Lucian shook his head, a flicker of something almost like pity crossing his features. "You act as if there's no chance any of them might actually unite against you. What if the brothers actually band together? What if their hatred for you outweighs their distrust of each other?"
Morganna laughed softly, her voice dripping with amusement. "You think too highly of them, dear Lucian. They are princes—each is too self-involved, too desperate for power. I know how men like them think. They will betray each other far sooner than they would ever come for me." She paused, her gaze growing distant, calculating. "And if they try, I will be ready."
Lucian stared at her for a moment longer, then shrugged. "One day, your games will catch up to you."
Morganna's lips curled, her golden eyes glinting. "Perhaps. But until that day, I intend to enjoy every moment." She gestured for him to follow her deeper into the hall, where a handful of figures waited, each cloaked and hooded, their faces hidden.
"Are they ready?" Morganna asked, her voice commanding. Lucian gave a tight nod, leading her to the assembled figures.
"They are," he confirmed. "The loyalists to House Thane. They still think they're here to discuss how to ensure Prince Thane's ascension."
Morganna grinned. "Perfect." She stepped forward, her presence overwhelming the small gathering, her aura of Chaos Magic thrumming with a tangible intensity. The hooded figures shifted uneasily as she approached.
"Gentlemen," Morganna began, her voice smooth and dangerously sweet, "I thank you for your loyalty. Prince Thane—or rather, the man he might have been, if not for... unfortunate circumstances—would have appreciated it as well."
One of the figures straightened, a note of confusion slipping into his voice. "What—what do you mean 'would have'?"
Morganna's smile widened, cruel and predatory. "You see, my dear subjects, there has been a change in plans. Prince Thane has forfeited his claim. In fact, he is no longer capable of claiming anything at all." She raised her hand, and tendrils of chaos unfurled from her fingertips, slithering toward the men. The air grew thick, heavy with magic that hummed with dark promise.
"But—you said—we—" one of the men began to stammer, his words fading as he watched the creeping tendrils of magic, his fear palpable.
Morganna's gaze hardened, her amusement fading into cold resolve. "Did you think I gathered you here to plot in favor of a prince? No, I gathered you to ensure the downfall of all who stand against me." Her magic latched onto them, wrapping around their necks like a dozen serpents. She watched, her expression icy, as panic blossomed in their eyes, their attempts at resistance faltering against her will.
Lucian shifted, discomfort flickering across his face as he watched her tighten her grip. The air crackled with suppressed energy, each man's life held between her fingers. The loyalists began to choke, their bodies jerking as Morganna's magic suffocated them with effortless ease. One by one, they dropped to the floor, their muffled gasps echoing off the walls of the forgotten guild.
Silence reigned once more, broken only by the crackle of the candles. Morganna released the last of her tendrils, allowing the bodies to fall with a thud, her expression indifferent. She turned to Lucian, her eyes daring him to object, to say anything at all.
He swallowed, his throat dry. He had seen her do worse, but each time it made his stomach lurch—the coldness, the ease with which she ended lives. There was no remorse, no hesitation. She killed as effortlessly as she breathed.
"What now?" he finally managed, forcing the words out.
Morganna stepped over the fallen bodies, her cloak trailing behind her, crimson against the dark marble. "Now, my dear Lucian, we let the chaos spread. The nobles will whisper of assassins. The princes will blame each other. And Lunaris… Lunaris will drown in the madness it claims to love."
Lucian looked at her, her figure lit by the dim glow of flickering candlelight, and wondered—not for the first time—if there was any end to the depths of her cruelty. She was magnificent and terrible, like a storm unleashed upon a defenseless village. He shook his head, forcing himself to follow as she moved toward the exit.
"Let's go," Morganna said, her voice almost cheerful now, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "We have so much more to do. And I, for one, cannot wait to see Lunaris turn on itself."
Lucian followed her into the night, a chill settling into his bones. He knew, as always, that wherever she went, ruin would follow. The Crimson Witch was unstoppable, and the dance of betrayal had only just begun.