That had not gone according to plan. Not at all. It had been an utter and complete disaster. It should have been easy. Simple. The maidservant kills the little whorespawn and the blame gets shoved onto Lady Ballenci whose servant had served the tea.
That would not only solve the issue of Lady Ballenci's expanding influence over the noble ladies, but would also take care of the annoying rat of a girl that Lilliana was. She hadn't felt the need to go about killing the girl, but Morgana couldn't risk allowing Lilliana to marry into an Earl's family. With the hatred Lilliana no doubt harbored against the Silverwater Barony, her father was an imbecile to risk marrying her into a Countess position. Though Morgana had originally doubted the scarecrow of a girl could so much as hold her own in a conversation much less act on hatred, rumors of the girl's growing confidence had spurred Morgana into planning Lilliana's death as soon as was convenient.
Her plan had been efficient and simple. Perfect.
How had it all gone so horribly awry?
Her friend was dead now and it was all that little whore spawn’s fault. How had she switched the cups? Morgana had barely looked away from the girl the entire time she had been in the Solar, so there was no way she could have switched the tea cups. And even if she had, surely Lady Tremmor would have noticed a child switching the teas.
Yet, Lady Tremmor had not noticed. She had been completely oblivious, drinking the entire cup before the poison took effect, killing her before a healer could even be notified.
Morgana clenched Lady Tremmor’s tea cup in her bloodied hands. When Lady Tremmor suddenly vomited blood, shaking violently and foaming at the mouth, Morgana instantly moved to help her friend. Lady Tremmor had never been the most intelligent or powerful of Morgana’s allies, but she had been by far the most loyal.
“I’m going to kill her,” Morgana mumbled. “By the Gods, I’m going to fucking kill her!” Fire erupted around her, rampaging across the room, and Morgana shattered Lady Tremmor’s last cup against the far wall. Fire trailed as she stalked toward her handmaidens, still silently standing around the edges of the Solar. None of them looked at her or the body of Lady Tremmor, which was still on the floor. Morgana had dismissed the healers who came, barely restraining herself from ordering them hung. They all knew better than to look around, choosing instead to stare at their feet. “I want her dead. Dead as can be. I want her dead at my feet! Dead, dead, fucking dead!”
“There is something odd about her since she nearly killed the Young Lord Silverwater,” her second maid, Diedra, said. “Perhaps she’s finally lost it and gone crazy?”
“That didn’t look crazy to me,” Morgana screamed, throwing a plate against the same far wall. “Someone is educating her beyond my father’s program, telling her how to speak and act above her place. Her progress is otherwise impossible over a matter of weeks. Who would bother doing something so absurd and useless!?”
“Tell us your commands, My Lady,” the six women said in unison.
“Find out who is backing her. Go to Lady Ballenci and have her send out some information collectors. She might be upset at having been burned, so appease her however is required.”
“What should we do if the princess interferes?”
Morgana paused, thinking. The princess had been rather furious at the poisoning, even if the target had not been her or her followers. Perhaps she suspected the target to have been someone else.
“If she interferes, reach out to my grandfather from the Goldenhearts. Mother is still furious at what Lilliana did to Brian, so Aunt Hilda and Grandfather will want to help kill that little whore spawn. Even a princess will not be able to act rashly against a Duke and a Marchioness.” Her flames quieted as her mind formed a plan. “Yes, in fact, I have the perfect way to kill her. The most painful, excruciating way possible.” She turned to her sixth maidservant, who usually communicated with Lady Ballenci’s information brokers. “Actually, I want you to find out if my Grandfather is interested in Misty Veil Sire. I remember he mentioned to me one had taken to hibernating there.”
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“My lady?” The first handmaiden, Ariel, asked, raising her head slightly, her usual signal that Morgana was sharing too much information. Morgana ignored her oldest maidservant, still raging and infuriated by Lilliana.
“Just do it! Sires are known to love noble and royal blood. That little bitch would make a fantastic lure. And I doubt the Goldenhearts would pass at the chance to weaken my father's growing military influence. I heard he made moves against Grandfather a few months ago that resulted in one of my cousins being killed.” Morgana’s eyes flared with that dark greed she was thrilled to always let loose.
“What is a Sire, my lady?” the sixth maid asked, clearly making great effort to ignore Morgana's comments regarding her grandfather, a great duke. Normally, Morgana would punish servants for questioning her, but the sixth maid, Nissa, was her go-between with information brokers and Lady Ballenci’s family. There was some leeway to ensure Nissa had the necessary level of information.
“Sires,” Morgana explained, “are believed to be the original progenitors of heart energy and their species.”
“Is that not a Beast King, my lady?” Nissa asked. The five handmaidens to Nissa’s right all shifted nervously, as the young woman was clearly pushing the boundaries of her leeway.
“I cannot give you the details, Nissa. However, it has recently come to light that Beast Kings may not, in fact, be the originals of their species. The matter is currently being investigated.” She cast a glance at all her handmaidens, and the fire around her flared in warning. “That is a secret which must be kept in this room, understood? If it is revealed that the information was spread, know that I will know whom it came from.”
“Yes, My Lady.”
Morgana dismissed all but the first maid, who rarely left her side other than when Morgana slept. The older maidservant had been with Morgana since her mother had been pregnant. “She’s dead, Ariel. Dead. My friend is dead, and her murderer is gallivanting about my home.”
Ariel swept away from the wall and toward her mistress, red hair trailing in the maid’s wake. “Your revenge will be ever sweet, my lady.” Ariel leaned in and whispered the comforting words kept between the two of them only. “My queen.”
Before Morgana could smile at the whispered secret wish, her father burst into the Solar, his face the picture of rage. For the millionth time, Morgana was thankful to the Gods for making sure the majority of her looks came from her mother and not the man her mother had been stuck with.
His noble red and purple robes flapped at his back as his heavy belly jiggled underneath. His large and ever-embarrassing mustache twitched with the lord’s angry mutterings. The clothes he wore were more silk than cotton or other durable materials, indicating he’d likely been disturbed from time spent with one of his new whores. Alcohol permeated the air around him, swept up to an even greater degree of stench due to the unconscious breeze swarming around the angry wind energy user, the Baron.
“You tried to poison her?” he shouted, storming into the room and shoving Ariel to the ground so he could grab Morgana’s jaw between meaty fingers. Morgana went to protest the accusation, but the Baron snarled. “Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You didn’t think I would find out about your little plan? I told you to not touch her. The Earl is paying a hefty sum for a healthy girl. Do you want to be put back on the contract instead?”
“Mother would never have allowed that,” Morgana hissed through the pain of his grip.
He laughed and squeezed her face harder. “Don’t be so sure about that, daughter. I am the lord of this house, not Mathilda. And she will do nothing to threaten your brother’s position as heir. Do you really believe the Goldenhearts care for you so much they would throw away a chance to have their bloodline in charge of a Barony with gem mines?”
Morgana just stared at him and said nothing. Though she despised admitting it, her father spoke the truth. Her mother would not risk the Baron’s wrath being aimed at Killian, which was why she had not acted against Lilliana despite what she’d done to Brian.
But that did not mean her mother would abandon her to be sold to Earl Paul disguised as a marriage. The man was disgusting and horrible.
He finally noticed Lady Tremmor’s corpse and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Clean that up,” he said, releasing her face. The Baron’s air affinity energy had long since suffocated her flames, so she just stood there, naked of her flames. “And clean yourself up. By the Gods, Morgana, maintain your dignity. You are second in line.” The guards at the door snapped to immediate attention as he stalked back out of the door. “And this is your final warning. Leave the girl alone. My uses far outweigh your petty anger. Next time, I will have you in the dungeon for a month.”
When he’d finally left and the door closed tightly behind him, Morgana collapsed to her knees and cradled where her father had bruised her cheek. She would not cry, she would never cry from the Baron’s abuse. But her rage had been tempered, and it burned below the surface, this time cold and measured.
“I’m changing the plan,” Morgana said in a low tone to Ariel, who was once again standing off to the side after picking herself up from the Baron’s earlier anger. “We’re going to get rid of both of them. Fetch me some paper to write a letter to my Grandfather and bring me Jeffords. Tell Grandfather I know of a little bitch with noble blood we can use to lure his mythical Sire. And instruct Jeffords that I want to start proper matriarch training. Not training to be the wife of a patriarch, but to be matriarch. It’s time I take this situation in my own hand.”