The scene is set in a small box room in the darkest depths of Camelot Castle. The room isn't lit and the area all around the room is damp with mold and there is a profound smell of musk. The room is surrounded by thick metal bars, like a dungeon cell. You can barely make out a thing apart from in the far right corner near a tiny window a woman is staring through the smalls gaps and onto the courtyard above. She looks disheveled and un kept. The woman is talking to herself quietly.
Living should be simple just like breathing natural, unconditioned. For me living was never simple, exactly unlike breathing, unnatural, conditioned. You see that's what I have been all my life. Conditioned to believe that their way is right that the way I think is wrong, but what if what I think isn't wrong in the slightest? They try to get rid of me, dispose me like some rubbish in a skip. They say I'm mentally unstable, that they keep me here for my and everyone else's best wishes. These white walls are painfully bright, empty like my soul. You see I don't feel anything anymore. I'm numb like fingers that have been outside in the cold for too long, except unlike fingers I don't get the sharp pains when I get into the warmth as I never get into the warmth. What warmth do I have? No one loves me, nobody in this world loves me, and they would rather have me dead or locked up in here. If the problem isn't in sight it isn't there right? I guess I'm their problem. Lock me in a room, in this room, with the cold bricks of Camelots walls nothing but a a pile of straw to call a bed and to keep me company and they think I will keep quiet about their dirty little secret. The kingdom isn't all it is portrayed to be. I promise you that. Arthur is not this precious ruler who can't do no wrong. I'm living proof of that. So while your all outside in the fresh air and sunlight I'm locked in this room where I have been for years, praying one day I will get out, praying that one day I will be able to tell everybody the truth. You all look up to Arthur, think highly of him do you not? You think so highly of a man who would lock up a woman who is like a sister to him. Like I said I guess I'm a problem he would he would like to eradicate. I know in the past I have done some terrible things I admit that, I never shy away from what I have done. He, he however likes to hide his dirty little secrets. Brush them under the carpet and pretend as if they were never there. He's never been able to brush me under the carpet though. When it's me he always coming back for more, while his wife sleeps in the bed they share upstairs he comes down here and visits me. She of course, the wife, is oblivious to this, 'My precious little Arthur wouldn't do anything like that to me, you see unlike you Morgana he loves me.' I can almost hear her voice mocking me. Well if he loves you so much why does he always come crawling back to me? I bet you are all laughing at me. "Let the witch rot!" All of you laughing at me! But who will be laughing in the end? Who will be the one who has everything while the other has lost it all? As far as I'm concerned you all are nothing to me, all I need is him. And that is what I will have. Him.
A guard bangs on the metal bars jangling a key in front of him, mocking her.
"Ready for you bath ma'am?" he says with a smirk, mocking her former status. The woman slowly glides towards the bars. Even though she looks a mess she has always had natural elegance.
"Lead the way kind sir."