Chapter 203: Friend or Foe?

Morgana remained motionless for several long seconds, the folder still clutched to her chest as if it were the only thing keeping her anchored to reality. The silence in the room seemed heavier than any shout she had exchanged with Damon minutes before.

Elizabeth was the first to move.

“You’ll need time,” she said, crossing her arms again. “Denial, anger, disgust… it all comes in waves. You don’t need to answer anything now.”

Morgana let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Time?” she looked up, her eyes gleaming dangerously. “If half of this is true… I don’t have that luxury.”

She opened the folder again, turning the pages more carefully now. Not like someone in shock, but like someone trained to observe. Dates. Repetitions. Patterns. Routes that coincided with “diplomatic” trips. Names crossed out, replaced by others.

“He always said certain shipments were ’too sensitive’ for me,” she murmured. “That I didn’t need to know everything.”

Elizabeth nodded slightly.

“Control of information is the first shackle a tyrant places on his own children.”

Morgana closed her eyes for a moment.

The image of the father who had taught her to ride, to wield a sword, to speak with poise before the court… clashed violently with the figure described in the reports. The two versions coexisted, overlapped, and neither yielded space.

“If I side with him,” she said softly, “I become an accomplice.”

“Exactly,” Elizabeth replied, without softening her tone.

Morgana took a deep breath and, for the first time since arriving at the mansion, turned slowly to Damon.

He was still kneeling, slightly crooked, clearly exhausted, with purple marks beginning to appear on his abdomen and shoulder. His hair was disheveled. His expression… cautious.

“Did you know all this?” she asked.

Damon hesitated.

“Some things,” he admitted. “Not everything. But enough to know that Arven wasn’t… safe.”

Morgana gritted her teeth.

“So when you ran away…”

“I wasn’t running away from you,” he said quickly. “I was trying not to become a tool. Or an example.”

She looked away, annoyed with herself.

Elizabeth cleared her throat, drawing their attention.

“Before this turns into a belated confession session,” she said, “we need to make something clear.”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“Changing sides isn’t a symbolic gesture. It’s not some pretty political drama for a bard to sing about later. It’s dangerous. Irreversible.”

Morgana raised her chin.

“I’m not afraid.”

Elizabeth smiled slightly.

“I know. What worries me is what you’ll do when you realize you still love people you’ll need to take down.”

The impact of those words was palpable.

Morgana swallowed hard.

“What do you want from me?” she finally asked. “Exactly.”

Elizabeth stood up again and walked to a side table where a folded map lay. She unfolded it precisely and pointed to several marked areas.

“Arven isn’t an isolated case,” she explained. “But he’s a central node. Routes. Funding. Political influence. If he falls… others tremble.”

She looked directly at Morgana.

“You know the inner workings. The people. The unwritten codes. You can go where my agents don’t go without raising suspicion.”

Morgana followed the map with her eyes.

“You want me to be an infiltrator.”

“I want you to be a bridge,” Elizabeth corrected. “And, when necessary… a blade.”

Silence returned.

Damon felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Elizabeth…” he began.

She raised her hand.

“No,” she said. “This isn’t your decision.”

Morgana took a deep breath, carefully closed the folder, and placed it on the table.

“If I do it,” she said, “it won’t be for you. Not for politics. Not for revenge.”

She looked up, her gaze fixed.

“It will be because someone needs to end this. And because… I’m tired of being shielded from the truth.”

Elizabeth stared at her for long seconds.

Then nodded.

“Good answer.”

Morgana exhaled slowly.

“But there are conditions.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

“Naturally.”

“First,” Morgana pointed at Damon. “He’s not a disposable piece. Not bait. Not an ’acceptable’ variable.”

Damon’s eyes widened.

“Morgana—”

“Be quiet,” she cut him off, without looking at him. “You’ve already tried to die today.”

Elizabeth analyzed the scene with a curious glint in her eye.

“I agree,” she said. “Damon is too expensive an investment to waste.”

“Second,” Morgana continued, “if I find out you’ve omitted something as big as this…” she tapped the folder lightly “…I won’t be on your side.”

Elizabeth smiled, satisfied.

“Fair enough.”

Morgana hesitated for one last moment.

Then she held out her hand.

“Show me everything.”

Elizabeth shook her hand.

The grip was firm.

Definitive.

“Then,” Elizabeth said, “welcome to the real game.”

Damon watched the two of them, his heart racing.

He had the strange feeling that, at that moment, something much bigger than all of them had just changed direction.

And, for the first time since he’d left Arven…

He wasn’t running.

…

Aria was crouched behind one of the outer columns of the courtyard, in a position she swore was perfectly strategic.

From the point of view of any rational person, however, she was obviously spying.

“…Idiot,” she muttered to herself, her eyes fixed on Damon and Morgana near the fountain.

She observed every detail with exaggerated attention.

The way Damon leaned slightly forward when listening to Morgana.

The way Morgana gestured more than usual when speaking to him.

The fact—absolutely unacceptable—that they were laughing.

Aria clenched her teeth.

“Of course… laughing. Great. Fantastic. Wonderful reunion,” she whispered, biting her thumbnail hard. “He almost died yesterday, and today he’s already smiling with a troublesome little duchess…”

She peeked a little further to the side, trying to see better.

“And he still looks at her like that…” she murmured, her voice coming out thinner than intended. “What way, Damon? What way is that?”

She bit another nail.

Then another.

“If he thinks he can just—”

A hand suddenly landed on her shoulder.

“AAAAAAAA—!”

Aria jumped so high that she hit her knee on her spine and almost fell forward, spinning awkwardly in the air.

“DON’T KILL ME! I SWEAR I WASN’T DOING ANYTHING WRONG!”

She spun around, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger that wasn’t there.

And then she froze.

In front of her was Lily.

The succubus tilted her head slightly, her eyes shining with pure amusement, a mischievous smile plastered on her face. The small wings on her back trembled slightly, as if she were holding back a loud laugh.

“Boo,” Lily said calmly.

Aria put her hand to her chest.

“YOU… YOU—!”

“Cute?” Lily suggested, winking. “YOU DAMNED DEMON!”, Aria whispered loudly, furious. “Do you want to give me a heart attack?!”

Lily finally laughed, a soft, mocking giggle.

“You were so focused on watching the two of them that you didn’t even feel my aura,” she commented. “I thought it was adorable.”

Aria blushed immediately.

“I-I wasn’t looking at anything!”

“Oh, yes you were,” Lily replied, crossing her arms with a satisfied look. “You were counting how many times Damon smiled at her, weren’t you?”

“NO!”

“You were.”

“NO!”

Lily leaned in slightly, bringing her face closer to Aria’s, her eyes shining even brighter.

“Thirty-two,” she said. “I counted.”

Aria’s eyes widened.

“YOU WERE LOOKING TOO?!”

“Sure,” Lily replied calmly. “It’s free entertainment.”

Aria snorted and turned away, crossing her arms.

“That’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is,” Lily said, sitting casually on the nearby railing. “Especially the part where you’re biting your nails like you’re about to go to war.”

Aria looked at her own hands and quickly hid them.

“I’m not jealous.”

Lily made a doubtful sound.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m not!”

“Aria,” Lily said with feigned seriousness. “You almost bit your finger off when she touched his arm.”

Aria opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Then turned her face away, clearly defeated.

“…Maybe a little.”

Lily smiled even wider.

“I knew it.”

She swung her legs, watching Damon and Morgana in the distance.

“The duchess is interesting,” she commented. “Strong. Confident. Full of family problems. The whole package.”

Aria frowned.

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Like what?” Lily asked, feigning innocence. “She’s attractive.”

Aria turned her body instantly.

“Hey! That doesn’t help!”

Lily laughed again.

“Relax. I’m not interested in her,” she said, shrugging. “But Damon…”

She paused dramatically.

“…has a tendency to get involved with complicated women.”

Aria felt a chill in her stomach.

“What do you mean by that?”

Lily jumped off the railing and stood right in front of her, putting her hands behind her back.

“I mean,” she began, with a mischievous smile, “that if you’re not careful…”

She leaned in, speaking conspiratorially:

“…you’ll lose Damon.”

Aria felt her heart skip a beat.

“I-I’m not going to lose anyone,” she replied, too firmly for someone who was clearly panicking. “He’s not a prize.”

“I never said he was,” Lily replied. “But he’s someone who chooses.”

Aria swallowed hard.

“And he seems to like people who don’t just watch from afar.”

That hurt more than Aria cared to admit.

She looked back at the courtyard.

Damon was saying something, and Morgana responded with a tired half-smile, crossing her arms. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t intimate.

But it was… close.

“I’ve been busy,” Aria murmured. “Training him. Helping. Doing useful things.”

Lily tilted her head.

“That’s great,” she said. “But sometimes, useful people also need to say what they feel.”

Aria closed her eyes tightly.

“You talk like it’s easy.”

“It’s not,” Lily replied, surprisingly sincere. “But pretending you don’t feel anything is worse.”

She took two steps back, making room.

“Besides,” she added, with a mischievous smile, “I like you when you’re nervous. It’s funny.”

Aria opened one eye.

“You’re awful.”

“I know,” Lily said proudly.

From the courtyard, Damon’s voice echoed:

“Aria? Lily? Are you there?”

Aria almost fell backward again.

“DAMN IT.”

Lily raised her hand.

“Here!” she replied excitedly. “We were just… talking.”

Aria shot her a death glare.

“I’ll pay for this.”

Lily winked.

“Good luck.”

As they walked out of their makeshift hideout, Aria took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

Jealous or not…

She didn’t intend to lose that idiot.

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