Chapter 8: Make Sure You Survive The Night

The moment her feet touched the ground, Morgana's legs nearly gave out.

The palace grounds stretched around her in every direction, vast and incomprehensible. The servants who had emerged from various doors all stopped for a moment to stare at her...this human girl, disheveled and terrified, newly arrived from the carriage. She could feel their eyes on her, could feel the weight of their judgment and speculation.

Then Sera appeared.

The omega moved toward her with purposeful grace, and when she reached Morgana, she offered a small smile that was meant to be reassuring but was anything but.

"I'm Sera," she said gently. "I'll be helping you today. Come. Let me show you to your chambers."

Chambers.

The word hit Morgana like a strange blow. She'd expected the dungeons. Surely that was where they kept payment? Somewhere dark and cold, where she'd be locked away until the debt was satisfied? Why would they give her... chambers?

But she didn't ask. She just followed Sera, her feet moving on autopilot as the omega led her through the palace via a back entrance. They moved through corridors lined with tapestries and torches that burned with blue flames. Past doors that were closed and locked. Past the sounds of servants moving about their daily tasks.

Sera stopped at one of the doors and pushed it open.

Morgana's breath caught.

The room was enormous. Impossibly enormous. Back home, her father's entire cottage would have fit inside this space twice over. There was a massive bed with silk sheets the color of cream and gold. Windows that opened onto views of gardens she hadn't known existed. Furniture carved from wood so fine it seemed to glow. And flowers...real flowers in vases, their scent filling the air with something beautiful and wild.

She was still standing in the doorway, unable to move, when another omega emerged from an adjacent door. This one was smaller, with gentle eyes and dark skin.

"The bath is ready," she announced, looking at Sera.

And then Sera's entire demeanor changed.

"Hurry up inside," she said, and now there was urgency in her voice. "Before Agnes arrives. You need to take a bath. Get cleaned up. Agnes will come to prepare you for your night with the Kings."

The words landed like thunder.

Morgana's body went rigid. Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Night. With. The. Kings.

"My what with the Kings?" Her voice came out small and broken.

Sera's expression softened for just a moment, a flash of genuine pity crossing her features. Then it was gone, replaced by something more pragmatic.

"We need to get you ready for your night with the Kings," Sera said carefully, as if each word might shatter Morgana completely. "You will be serving them tonight."

The world tilted.

Morgana had to reach out and grab the edge of the doorframe to keep from falling. The stone was cool under her fingers, solid, the only real thing in a moment that felt like a dream.

"No," she whispered. "Please. I can't...can I not go? I can work in the kitchen. Or the laundry. I can..."

"I'm sorry," Sera interrupted, and there was genuine regret in her voice now. But it was the regret of someone who was helpless. "The order came directly from His Majesty. There's nothing I can do about it. Please don't make this difficult for me. We have to get you ready."

Sera moved closer and reached for Morgana's hand. Her touch was gentle, almost a plea, and after a moment of resistance, Morgana let herself be guided into the bathroom.

***

The water was warm and scented with oils that smelled like lavender and honey. Under any other circumstance, it might have been luxurious. Now, it was just another layer of the cage closing around her.

Morgana let the omegas wash her. She moved like a marionette, like her body didn't belong to her anymore. Her mind was somewhere else entirely, spiraling through increasingly dark thoughts.

Three Kings. She had to serve three Kings. Three of the most powerful, dangerous men in existence. She knew what that word meant. Serve. The way Sera had said it, with that careful tone, could only mean one thing.

This would be her last night. She was sure of it. She wouldn't survive it. Not with three of them. Not with men as ruthless as the Kings were reputed to be.

Her body moved through the bath like it was happening to someone else. Sera washed her hair with patient hands. The other omega dried her afterward, and suddenly Morgana was back in the room, back in that impossible space that was too beautiful for what was about to happen.

The door opened.

An older woman entered, this one with grey hair braided in an intricate pattern, with eyes that had seen lifetimes. She was carrying a bag and wearing an expression of deep sympathy.

"Oh, you poor child," she said immediately upon seeing Morgana sitting on the bed in that resigned, broken way. Agnes. This had to be Agnes.

She moved to the bed and sat beside Morgana, her hand reaching out to touch Morgana's face.

"Poor child," Agnes repeated softly. "What did you do to catch their attention?"

The question broke something in Morgana. Tears spilled down her cheeks without warning...hot, desperate tears born from the horrible unfairness of it all. She hadn't done anything. She'd been living an ordinary life, selling bread in an ordinary village, and now she was here, trapped in this beautiful room, waiting for three Kings to arrive and...

Agnes wiped the tears away with a tenderness that made it worse somehow.

"Whatever it is, child," Agnes said quietly, "make sure you survive the night."

Then she began giving instructions. Her voice was firm but not unkind, and Morgana understood these were not suggestions but survival techniques.

"You do whatever they tell you to do, child. Anything. Do not say no to them. Ever. You serve them with everything you have. They will demand it, and you will give it. That is the only way you make it through this."

It was a death sentence wrapped in pragmatic advice.

Agnes reached into her bag and pulled out a white cloth. It was thin and delicate, and when she handed it to Morgana, the meaning was clear. This was what she was supposed to wear. Nothing else. Just this white cloth that might as well have been nothing at all.

"Wear this, child," Agnes said, and in her voice was something like prayer. "May the moon Goddess make them go easy on you."

Then Agnes turned and gestured to Sera and the other omega. "Pack up. Tidy up. The Kings will be here soon, and everything must be perfect."

The omegas moved quickly, organizing the room, preparing the space. Making it a stage for whatever was about to happen. Morgana watched them move around her like she was made of glass. Like she was already a ghost.

She closed her eyes.

There was nothing left to do but accept it. Nothing left but to surrender to the cage that had closed around her the moment her father lost his first hand of cards. The cage that had been constructed so carefully by the Kings, piece by piece, until she found herself here, in a beautiful room, about to serve men who had orchestrated her entire downfall.

Her father had owned the debt.

Now she would pay it.

The thought circled through her mind like a vulture as the light began to fade outside the windows. As the servants finished their preparations. As the minutes ticked down to the moment when the Kings would arrive and claim what they'd purchased with their careful strategy and their decades of hunger.

Morgana held the white cloth in her trembling hands and waited for her fate.