Chapter 119: Why Would They Care About A Servant Like Me?
For a moment, Morgana didn’t move.
Then, very slowly, she unfolded herself and turned.
When she saw Rowan, her entire face transformed.
Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened.
And then, with a voice that carried both surprise and overwhelming relief, she spoke:
"Rowan? Rowan, is that you?"
"Yes," Rowan whispered fiercely. "Yes, it’s me. Don’t worry. Don’t make noise. I’m not supposed to be here, but I had to....I needed to see you."
She moved to the bars of the cell.
Morgana rushed to the other side, and for a long moment, they simply looked at each other through the iron bars that separated them.
Then Morgana reached out, and Rowan grasped her hand through the bars.
"I heard what happened," Rowan said, her voice shaking. "I heard that they arrested you. That they found a necklace. That you’re being held for theft."
"I didn’t do it," Morgana said immediately, her voice urgent and desperate. "Rowan, I swear to you, I didn’t steal that necklace. I’ve never even seen it before. Someone put it there. Someone set me up."
"I know," Rowan said, squeezing her friend’s hand. "I know you didn’t do it. I know you, Morgana. I know you’re not a thief."
Her voice broke slightly. "It was Isolde. That noble bitch. I know it was her. That peacock carries herself like she’s the queen of the entire palace, and she’s got all the other noble daughters following her around like a flock of sheep. She did this. She had to have."
Morgana laughed...a broken, desperate sound that contained both tears and a hint of something that might have been relief at being believed.
"How did you get down here?" she asked, looking around as if expecting guards to appear at any moment.
"I brought your food," Rowan said, holding up the tray. "I told the guard I was replacing the regular delivery. He was suspicious, but he didn’t stop me."
She paused, and then the dam broke inside her.
Tears began to stream down her face.
"Oh, Morgana," she said, her voice breaking. "I’ve been so scared. When I heard what they were saying, when I realized what had happened, I just... I couldn’t just sit in the kitchen and pretend everything was fine. I had to see you. I had to make sure you were alive. I had to...."
Morgana pulled Rowan’s hand closer through the bars, and they both held on to each other as if the contact could bridge the impossible distance between them.
"I’m okay," Morgana said, though they both knew it was a lie. She was in a dungeon, accused of a crime she didn’t commit, facing the very real possibility of execution.
"I’m okay," she repeated, and this time there was more conviction in her voice, as if by saying it, she could make it true.
They stood like that for several minutes, just holding hands, just being present for each other.
Finally, Rowan’s tears began to subside.
She let go of Morgana’s hand long enough to pull out the bread and ham she had stuffed into her apron pocket.
"Eat this," she commanded, pressing the food through the bars. "Eat it and stay strong. Do you hear me? Stay strong."
"Rowan...." Morgana began.
"I mean it," Rowan said fiercely. "I won’t let you die. Do you understand me? I don’t care what I have to do. I don’t care if I have to go tell the kings myself, but I won’t watch you die. Not on my watch. Not while I can do something about it."
Morgana’s eyes filled with tears at the absolute ferocity of Rowan’s loyalty.
"Why would they care?" Morgana asked quietly. "The kings, I mean. Why would they care about a servant like me? Why would they believe me over the noble daughters?"
But before Rowan could answer, a voice echoed through the dungeons.
"You need to leave," the guard called from deeper in the darkness. "Now. You’ve delivered the food. Go."
Rowan squeezed Morgana’s hand one more time.
"Tomorrow," she said urgently. "I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise. And Morgana...don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. Someone will help you. Someone has to."
She wiped her tears quickly and picked up the now-empty tray.
"I love you," she said to Morgana. "You’re my best friend, and I believe in you, and I swear on my life I’ll find a way to help you get out of here."
"I love you too," Morgana whispered.
And then Rowan turned and walked away, back toward the guard, back toward the stairs leading out of the dungeons.
She didn’t look back, though every fiber of her being wanted to.
***
After Rowan’s footsteps had faded, after the sound of her ascending the stairs had disappeared entirely, Morgana sank down onto the cold stone floor of her cell.
She held the bread Rowan had given her in her trembling hands.
And she cried.
Not the silent tears of despair that had characterized her first night in the dungeons, but deep, gut-wrenching sobs that shook her entire body.
Rowan believed in her.
Rowan believed she was innocent.
Rowan was willing to fight for her, to risk getting in trouble herself, just to make sure she wasn’t alone.
It was the most beautiful and the most terrifying thing Morgana had experienced since her arrest.
Because Rowan’s loyalty, as precious as it was, also meant that her friend was in danger now too.
Morgana broke the bread into smaller pieces and ate it slowly, chewing each bite carefully, trying to gather strength.
Her mind moved to the kings.
Rowan thinks the kings would help. Rowan had seemed to believe that there was something between her and the kings that might compel them to act.
But Morgana shook her head at the thought.
What could possibly be between the kings and an ordinary servant like her?
The kings were powerful. They were distant. They were concerned with matters of state and politics and the governance of entire kingdoms.
She was nothing. A servant girl who had somehow gotten herself framed for a crime she didn’t commit.
Why would they care about her?
Why would they believe her over multiple noble daughters with standing and status and connections?
The answer was obvious.
They wouldn’t.
They couldn’t.
She was alone in this.
Utterly, completely alone.