Caelan’s face remained expressionless. In one swift motion, he drew his sword and severed Alistair’s arm, splattering blood across the floor.
A few droplets landed on my face, mingling with my hair.
I gripped the chair beside me to keep my balance, my blood freezing in my veins.
He really did it. He severed the Regent’s arm as if it were nothing.
“Mother, shall I kill this beast for dishonoring you?”
Caelan smiled as if asking me about a trivial matter.
“What?”
I stared at him, stunned and confused.
Suddenly, he gripped my shoulders tightly, his eyes burning with intensity.
“I said I want to kill him. Ever since I was eight years old and saw him enter your chambers, I swore I would. I’ve waited seven long years. Isn’t that enough? Or… Mother, do you hesitate because you still care for him?”
Anger surged through me, hot and unrelenting. My fingers dug into the chair so hard I feared they’d break.
In those early years, alone with Caelan in the palace, I had faced countless schemes and threats. We had no one but each other.
Every decision I made was for him, to ensure his survival.
Even if it meant submitting to Alistair, all of it was for my son.