Judging by the flow of the woman's speech, the one Morpheus had addressed so reverently, Ariel soon caught her name: Alice.
And judging by the way she spoke of covens, "It's my first time stepping foot in another's coven," she had said, Ariel's breath stilled. That could only mean one thing.
She's a witch.
Not just any guests stepping into the palace to take a look, but a powerful one, someone with her own coven, her own following. Witches never crossed into another's domain without cause. That kind of intrusion wasn't just rude, it was dangerous.
So why would Alice be here? Why would Morpheus receive her like royalty, and in secret?
A goal... a goal...
Her thoughts turned in circles, but the truth was sharp and simple: no two powerful people joined hands unless something lay at the center worth having.
Whatever this goal was, it had to benefit both of them and that was what frightened her most as Morpheus's goal was always centered around Arabella, her younger sister.
