[Location: Camelot – Morgana's Chambers, Dawn]
Morning sunlight filtered through the narrow window, weak and grey — the kind of light that made Camelot's stone walls look colder than they were.
Morgana sat by her mirror, staring at her reflection but seeing nothing.
She hadn't slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that blue spark again — small, contained, but alive.
He called it efficient, she thought bitterly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Always the pragmatist.
Ren was unlike anyone she'd met. Not noble, not servant, not knight — something in between. Quiet, self-contained, with a restraint that felt both disciplined and dangerous.
And that power he held… it was nothing like the clumsy spells she'd seen from hedge mages.
It was refined, built from logic instead of faith. Like the difference between a sword and a flame — both deadly, but one sharpened with intent.
A knock at the door broke her thoughts.
"Come in," she said softly.
Gwen entered, carrying a tray. "You didn't come down for breakfast, my lady. I thought you might—"
She paused, noticing the shadows under Morgana's eyes. "You didn't sleep again."
"I wasn't tired," Morgana lied.
Gwen frowned. "Is it the dreams again? Or… something else?"
Morgana hesitated, fingers brushing the pendant at her throat — an old charm Gaius had given her years ago to ward off nightmares.
If only it could ward off questions.
"Just… thoughts," she said finally. "About the king. About what's right."
Gwen sighed, setting the tray down. "He's ordered more patrols, hasn't he?"
"Yes. He thinks sorcery's stirring again — that it always hides where he least expects."
She didn't say he's not wrong.
Last night proved that.
[Location: Camelot – Great Hall, Midday]
The hall buzzed with low conversation. Uther stood near the throne, speaking with a group of knights. His tone was clipped, angry.
"The druid sightings near the lower woodlands are no coincidence," he said. "Magic festers when left unchecked. We will root it out before it infects the court again."
Morgana kept her gaze low, her face calm.
Inwardly, her stomach turned.
She'd seen what "rooting out" meant. Fires. Screams. Innocent faces condemned by fear.
Across the hall, Gaius caught her eye — a subtle, weary look that said stay quiet.
She inclined her head slightly. She'd learned how to hide her thoughts well enough to survive this long.
Still… the king's words hit differently now.
Because she knew someone who used magic — and not for rebellion, not for evil — but for understanding. For control.
Ren.
The image of him standing in that ruined tower, the glow between his fingers steady as breath, refused to leave her mind.
There had been no madness in his eyes.
Only focus.
And fear — not of himself, but of being discovered.
[Location: Gaius's Chambers – Later That Day]
The air smelled of herbs and candle wax. Gaius shuffled through parchment scrolls, muttering to himself as Morgana sat across from him.
"More burn marks in the western towers," he said, half to her, half to his notes. "Could be lightning, but… the pattern's too deliberate."
Morgana fought to keep her tone casual. "And you think it's magic?"
"I hope not," Gaius said. "Because if Uther learns of it, the response will be severe."
He glanced at her, and though his eyes were kind, they were sharp.
"Have you noticed anything… unusual lately, my lady?"
Her heart skipped.
For a second, she almost told him. About the light. About Ren. About the way the energy in that tower had hummed like a living thing.
But then she thought of Uther. Of the pyres.
Of Ren's calm voice saying, 'You shouldn't be here.'
"No," she said quietly. "Nothing unusual."
Gaius studied her, then nodded slowly. "Good. For everyone's sake, let's hope it stays that way."
[Location: Morgana's Balcony – Night]
The castle below was quiet, torches burning low. The moon hung over Camelot like a watchful eye.
Morgana leaned against the railing, cloak drawn close.
Somewhere out there, Ren was training again — pushing boundaries, risking everything to understand what he was.
And she was letting him.
"You're a fool," she whispered to herself.
But she couldn't deny it — she wanted to see that light again.
To see how far he could go before the world crushed him for it.
If Uther discovered him, Ren would die.
If Merlin discovered him… things could become complicated.
But if she stayed silent, perhaps — just perhaps — she could buy him time.
And maybe learn something herself.
She turned back toward her chambers, her expression calm, but her mind already racing with possibilities.
The fire she'd seen last night wasn't just in Ren's hands.
It was in her now, too.
[Author's Note]
This chapter marks the shift to Morgana's internal world — a careful balance between fear and fascination. We see her start to rationalize protecting Ren, even as Uther's witch hunts tighten. This will be critical for the court politics arc and their growing connection, both built on secrecy and shared defiance.