Demontae was Marks' spoiled rotten heir, molded into Herbshire's untouchable king—no rules, no fear, no brakes. There wasn't a line he wouldn't cross.
Even after learning Lirael's identity, he brushed her off like a flea. The mighty Veyras? What could they possibly do to his family's empire?
So when Marks tried warning him, Demontae tuned it out. Pathetic. Since when did his father cower before some pampered princess? Like talking to a dead fish.
That's why he'd rounded up these thugs to ambush Eldric and Lirael now.
Blissfully ignorant of the Veyras' reach, Demontae feared neither Lirael nor the hurricane her family could unleash. Hell, he'd even considered eliminating her permanently. Her threats now? Amusing.
Leaning in, he sneered, "Know your place, sweetheart. This is Herbshire,
