Chapter 32: Prescription

Nyx closed the door of her private chambers and did not come out again that afternoon. The cleansing bath Morgana had prepared earlier still steamed in the adjoining stone tub. She stripped without ceremony, stepped into the scalding water, and stayed there a long time, scrubbing until her skin was raw. The foul scent of the Fleshcraver clung stubbornly beneath her nails and in the roots of her hair. She did not speak. She did not cry. She only washed.

—

On the high western balcony, Morgana sat with one leg crossed over the other, a delicate cup of dark coffee balanced between her fingers. The late light caught in her long black hair. Beside her, Commander Thalira stood in her usual rigid posture, silver braid perfect, grey eyes fixed on the distant mountains.

Morgana took a slow sip, then glanced sideways.

“Why do you always keep your hair in that braid? If you let it down, I think it would suit you far better.”

Thalira’s gloved hand rose almost automatically to touch the thick plait.

“My Queen once told me the braid suited me very well. I have not worn it any other way since that day.”

Morgana stopped with the cup halfway to her lips. She stared at Thalira for a long moment, then let out a short, incredulous breath.

“You’re telling me that simply because my sister said so, you have kept the exact same hairstyle for years? Everyone in this citadel has truly lost their minds.”

Thalira’s jaw tightened, but she did not argue. After a pause she said quietly:

“It is better that the hero escaped. There is peace now.”

Morgana drank again, eyes half-lidded.

“You know, you are actually far more beautiful than Elara. That silver hair, those pale grey eyes, your height… you are a walking disaster of a woman. Hmm. Yes. That is exactly what you think, isn’t it?”

A faint flush rose along Thalira’s neck. She opened her mouth.

“I—”

Morgana cut her off without raising her voice.

“You are wasting yourself on Lilith. I know my sister. She is completely, insanely in love with that hero, even if she keeps calling her ‘property’ to lie to herself. For Elara she would dissolve you in boiling acid without a second thought. Look at yourself. Pull yourself together. If you continue like this, she will throw you out of the citadel and you will only see this place again in your dreams.”

Thalira had no answer. Her gaze dropped to the stone floor of the balcony.

“…Am I not beautiful?” she asked, almost inaudible. “Am I that ugly?”

Morgana’s smile was slow and almost kind. She set the cup down, stood, and stepped close. Before Thalira could react, Morgana’s fingers were in the silver braid, pulling the binding free. The long, heavy hair spilled loose over Thalira’s shoulders and back like liquid metal.

“Hey—what are you doing?”

Morgana only ran both hands through it once, spreading it wider, then stepped back to admire the result.

“There. Like this you look far more vulnerable. Far more… heated.”

Thalira’s face burned. “So if my Queen saw me this way, she would like it?”

Morgana’s answer was immediate and merciless.

“A huge no.”

Thalira’s expression fell.

Morgana continued, voice almost gentle.

“You are tall and strong. Lilith is not looking for beauty. She is looking for someone weak who will become dependent on her.”

“I am weak compared to her,” Thalira whispered. “She is so much stronger than I am.”

Morgana threw her head back and laughed. She picked up her coffee again, took another sip, and looked at Thalira over the rim of the cup.

“Come to my rooms tonight. Forget Lilith.”

Thalira’s breath caught. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course.”

Thalira stared at her, cheeks still flushed, loose silver hair stirring in the evening wind. After a moment she managed:

“At least give me back the hair tie.”

Morgana’s smile widened.

“If you come to my rooms tonight, you can have it.”

—

Night settled over the citadel.

Thalira bathed in her own chambers, mind racing in tight, panicked circles.

I already slept with Nyx… but that was forced. This is different. Or is she only playing with me? Maybe I shouldn’t go. Yes. She’s planning something. She’ll use me and then discard me. Did Nyx tell her what happened? I haven’t spoken to Nyx in so long… Maybe I should just run.

A knock sounded at the door.

She froze, still dripping, a towel clutched to her chest. The knock came again. She did not move. A third time—nothing. She exhaled shakily and reached for her clothes.

The lock clicked open with insulting ease.

Morgana stepped inside and closed the door behind her with a soft, final sound. She was already half-undressed, black silk robe open, amber eyes gleaming in the low light.

Thalira scrambled to cover herself.

“I told you to come to my rooms tonight,” Morgana said, voice mild and dangerous. “I summoned you into my presence, and you dare refuse? Who exactly do you think you are?”

“My lady—I—I didn’t think you were serious. I didn’t want to impose—”

“Don’t get dressed.” Morgana’s tone left no room. “Kneel.”

Thalira’s breath came short and sharp. Slowly, as if her body belonged to someone else, she sank to her knees on the cold stone.

Morgana walked forward until she stood directly in front of her. The robe slipped from her shoulders.

“Come here, beautiful. Tonight I’m writing you a prescription to help you forget Lilith. You’re going to take every drop of it.”

She tangled her fingers in the loose silver hair and pulled Thalira’s face forward.

What followed was neither gentle nor prolonged. Morgana guided her with firm, impatient hands, sometimes pushing deeper, sometimes simply holding her in place while soft, shameless sounds of pleasure filled the quiet room. Thalira obeyed. When Morgana’s climax built she tried to pull back on instinct; the grip in her hair only tightened.

“Don’t you dare pull away. Swallow it. Yes—just like that. Good girl. This is your medicine.”

Morgana finished with a low, shuddering exhale, body arched, eyes half-closed in pure satisfaction. Only when the last tremor left her did she release Thalira’s hair. She dressed without hurry, then tossed the small black hair tie onto the floor in front of the still-kneeling commander.

“Well done.”

She left without another word.

The moment the door closed, Thalira staggered to the washbasin and vomited until nothing remained. Tears stood in her eyes, but she did not sob. She only braced both hands on the cold porcelain and whispered to the empty room:

“Disgusting… it was disgusting…”

She rinsed her mouth, dressed in silence, and climbed into bed. Sleep, when it finally came, was thin and full of the scent of another woman’s skin.

—

In the throne hall, night had deepened to true black.

Lilith remained seated, chin resting on one hand, crimson eyes fixed on nothing. The floating crystals burned low. No one else was present—she had dismissed every guard and even Thalira hours earlier.

Tomorrow.

The decision had already hardened inside her like cooling steel.

She would leave the citadel herself. No more sisters, no more commanders, no more failures. She would find Elara in the north, and she would make certain the white-elf woman died slowly and in full view of those blue eyes.

None of you are worth a damn, she thought, the words cold and clear. I will go. I will flay that elf slut in front of her, and I will take what has always been mine—completely, and forever.

Lilith rose from the throne.

Preparations would begin at once.