Crom stood and smoothed his waistcoat with his palm, then he turned and reached for his sword, which was tucked safely away in his scabbard. “Good day, Mother.”
There was silence until he reached the door, then her voice called out to him, engaging and lyrical, sweetening the warning in her words. “Do not think to overrule me, Crom. You will not enjoy the effects of losing to me.”
Closing the door, Crom pressed his back against the carved wood. It was not going to be easy, but he would do it. He would overthrow his mother, and in the end, he and his faithful men would possess a virtue, and thereby form a new Seelie Court.
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