"No Arthur," she said, folded her arms across her chest, "absolutely not."
"She has to stay somewhere," the King replied evenly, "and you know Mother would struggle with her. She needs someone like you."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere," Morgana glowered, "I'm serious, Arthur, I don't have the time to guard a teenager with an attitude problem! She'll be off to Aura know where the moment I turn my back!" Her brother smiled at her.
"No she won't Ana," he replied, moving to pour himself a glass of wine, "have you met you?" He was infuriating, and a morning drinker. Morgana snatched the decanter from him and held it up in front of his face.
"You don't exactly sell parenting a teenager you know, I know how many of these damn things you go through a day."
"No you don't," Arthur responded patiently, taking the decanter back and setting it down on his desk. His glass remained empty. "They can surprise you, you know."
"I bet they don't a lot more often than they do." To her pleasure, he seemed to concede. Taking it as a victory, Morgana turned to leave.
"And what about Phoenix?" the king's quiet voice wondered from behind her. She paused, his words pulling up memories of her own foster mother, and sighed.
"Screw you, Arthur," she said grimly, stalking back to the desk and signing the document waiting for her on the table. Throwing the pen down in front of him Morgana made for the door. She paused in the entranceway and looked back at him with a small smile,
"well played." He said nothing, just bowed.

---

Morgana had been busy. She'd risen with the sun and gone for a run through the woods, returning to the village just in time to feed the chickens and water her horse. She'd brushed him, tidied the muck from his paddock and shelter and fed him an apple from the barrel by her back door. When she'd finished, she collected her basket of herbs and visited the old lady with rheumatism who lived two cottages over. She'd been subjected to one of the most disgusting cups of tea she'd ever been forced to drink, and been asked more questions that she had the patience for about her new houseguest. Finally extracting herself from the widow's clutches Morgana had sent Chip off to deliver a message to Mace at the Pantheon and spent an hour practicing her archery on the range she'd created for herself behind her cottage.

When Sapphire appeared in the kitchen Morgana had just finished her breakfast and was washing up the pots and pans. Chip had returned from his mission and was perched next to Kraar on the purpose-built rail on the wall behind her.
"Morning," Morgana replied, pouring out the soapy water and reaching for the dishcloth, "how did you sleep?" She didn't need to turn around to see the girl's cigarettes, Kraar took care of that for her, and she instantly recognised Mallos' foul little poison sticks.
"You can go outside," she told the girl firmly, "the ravens don't like them." She sighed. Be nice Ana, she reminded herself internally.

Morgana handed Sapphy a large wooden bucket with an iron handle.
"Would you mind getting some more water from the pump? If you just keep walking towards the next line of houses you'll fall over it." She smiled, "and I'll pull something out for your breakfast whilst you're gone. I don't have much in, but I can probably manage apple juice, bread and jam? That sound okay?"