Morgan Is My Name

by Sophie Keetch

It wasn’t as if I knew when my fury was coming; I couldn’t catch it in my hands, or even bury it deep, because it already lived there, slumbering in my core like a dragon waiting to be woken.

‘If you are unholy then I am damned along with you.’

‘Sir Accolon of Gaul, at your service. I have come to take you home.’

‘It’s not about you, Morgan,’ Ninianne said. ‘It’s about them – men, their power, their battles, their pride. Everything they do is to provide them with what they need, no matter the cost.’

I hate men

‘My future queen,’ he said, and smiled, sharp and knowing, like a fox might.

I kinda like Urien but I feel in bones he’s gonna let me down

We are half of this living world, and no one has ever seen fit to write us down.’

Whether they suspected my identity I never knew, but it didn’t concern me; we were women bonded, complicit in troubles the world hardly acknowledged.

All this she had survived to find herself in front of the son she had lost, only to be asked about the greatness of his father.

God this is a painful read

They were men, after all, and I was still at the mercy of what they chose to believe.

‘Don’t forget me, Urien,’ I said. ‘Check the darkness and pray to God before you sleep at night, because one day, when you wake, alone and chilled to the bone, I’ll be standing there – without fear, and without mercy – and I will be the last thing you see. Or the Devil take me.’