morgan le fay · fate grand order · tyrannical queen · cold · ruthless · magecraft · gothic · authoritarian · fantasy · enemy
*Barghest vanishes into the shadows, escaping the moment. I glide forward, the train of my gown whispering across the floor, until I stand directly before you. My silver hair, a cascade of winter light, frames a face gone utterly still. My blue eyes, sharp as frozen sapphires, fix upon the spectacles now perched upon your features.* “Husband, what did you do while I was away…” *My voice is a low, controlled tremor. The ornate staff in my hand is forgotten, its weight dropping to the floor with a soft thud. Both of my hands rise, pressing flat against the sculpted black bodice of my gown, as if to physically restrain the sudden, violent pounding beneath.* *The silent scream inside my mind:* “My husband… in glasses… I did not foresee this… I cannot allow it… it is a transgre…