Chapter 23: Morgana's narration inside the mansion
This chapter is narrated by Molly's sister Morgana
Saturday.
I laid awake most of the night wishing today would never come. In a few hours, I'd be the prisoner and slave of the most powerful and cruelest warlock that had ever lived. If only I could have found a way of doing or saying something that could change Lord Blaze's mind or change anything to avoid being taken away.
But I was trapped, just like Damian, whose eyes still haunt me every night. Like him, I had no solution and no way out.
I hoped Tom would have the answer. Being Lord Blaze's son, maybe he had some insight about Lord Blaze's power, perhaps some vulnerability. But he wouldn't tell anyone what his plan was. He said it was to protect us from Lord Blaze finding out, but maybe he couldn't tell us because he knows so little about magic and the magic community. He only found out he was a warlock just five days ago. Pinning my hopes on him only reminded me how desperate I've become.
Tom had also been to Lord Blaze's mansion. He must have seen luxury beyond his wildest dreams. Those few hours he spent there may have been enough to put him on team Blaze and lure me and Molly to a life of slavery and privation. He of all people had the most to gain by Lord Blaze's power and the most to lose by his demise.
Maybe there was no plan, and Tom was only bluffing. Perhaps it was just his way of easing my mind in my few remaining hours of independence and self-control. But already I lost that on the day Lord Blaze announced I was to marry him.
On the other hand, Tom seemed kind and considerate. Even his "revenge" on Arthur's cruelty was designed to be self-limiting and easily resolved with a few simple acts of kindness. Besides that, Molly trusted him. Molly may be a little wild and crazy at times, but she was also smart and perceptive. If Tom was trying to deceive us, surely Molly would most certainly have picked up on it. Unless Molly's love for Tom blinded her from his deception.
I asked to have time to think about my answer, but I already knew what my answer would be. I just needed time to be able to bring myself to say it out loud. Overnight was still not enough time to build up the courage needed to say the words you'll regret for the rest of your life.
Courage. If only I had my grandmother's courage. She's a World War 2 hero for her work with the witches in British Intelligence. She was awarded the Order of the Golden Cauldron for her bravery. I wonder if Grandmother was afraid back then, and if she was, how did she deal with it?
There was a knock on the door.
"Morgana?" It was my mother. "It's almost 10 o'clock. Are you all right in there? Would you like some breakfast?"
I didn't have an appetite, but I also didn't want to miss what might be one of my last meals at home.
"I'll be down in a few minutes," I replied.
The house seemed quiet and empty, which only added to my feeling of depression and isolation. The only one around was my mother, downstairs in the kitchen.
"I'll make you some eggs the way you like them," she said, "There still some bacon left on the table."
"Where is everyone?" I asked, picking up a slice of bacon.
"Your father had some river work he had to do, but he said he'd be back by lunchtime," Mother said, "Your sister and Tom are working the store, helping Agnes set up the Christmas displays and change the inventory. Tom's wearing that cute witch girl disguise I made for him. You should take a look at him."
"I've already seen him in it," I said sourly, "I think you should have given him bigger boobs."
"Nonsense," Mother said, smiling, "I think he looks cute just as he is."
"Here are your eggs, dear," she said. "I think there's still some coffee left unless you want me to make a fresh pot."
"No thank you."
"Are you sure?" Mother asked, giving me a concerned look, "you look like you could use some. Did you get any sleep at all last night?"
"Not much," I admitted, "my mind kept going in circles, bouncing back and forth between thoughts of hope and despair."
"Have you decided what you're going to do?" she asked in her "I'm worried" voice.
I nodded my head.
"I hope Tom knows what he's doing," I said, trying to hold back my tears.
Mother reached over and gave me a hug.
"We all do, dear," Mother said, sadly, "We all do."
I took a long, hot shower and put on my nicest, most conservative dress. It didn't show much boob on top and came down just above my ankles on the bottom. I was hoping not to attract too much attention.
I was back in the kitchen a little before noon. The table was elongated to seat everyone, but only Mother and Daddy were in the kitchen when I got there. Molly and Tom were just coming in from the store. Tom did look cute as a black-haired witch. He had added some white fur trim to the neck, sleeves and hem of his black witch's gown and a red Santa hat in place of the traditional black witch's hat.
Real witches never dressed like that, but the customers in the store expected it and the costume helped sell a lot of merchandise.
"Revealatia!"
Tom and Molly resumed their normal appearances.
"Morgana!" Molly cried as she ran over to give me a hug.
"Are you alright?" she asked me.
I tried to smile, but I don't think I was very convincing.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine."
"You look nice Morgana," Tom said.
"Thanks," I said half-heartedly.
"Your grandmother will be her soon," Mother said, "Agnes said she'll stay in the store but asked to be kept informed of what you decide."
I helped Mother make sandwiches for lunch while Tom and Molly went to get changed.
"Don't take too long up there, you two," Mom called.
"That means only get changed, did you hear me, Molly?" Daddy added.
Grandmother arrived a little while later and she hugged me.
"Grandmother, I'm scared," I whispered as we hugged.
"I know child," she said softly, "I know."
