Flashback
“You treacherous woman! How could you permit such malignance to befall me? Have I stirred that much rancor in you? Or perhaps you are delusional as your wicked husband? Do you think I harbor any feelings for that man with no soul? How could you permit him to go back in his words…”
Agatha trailed off once she realized that the receptor of her heated rebuke was not listening, she was not even sure if Shannara had even heard her come into her chambers.
Shannara was standing over little Lancelot. He was barely a fortnight old with his miniature features. Shannara was humming a low melancholic tune. Agatha found herself being compelled to move near the two. She waddled over, her feet suddenly akin to rubber. Agatha spotted little Lancelot in his cot. The silver moon cast a brigh
