She sat with perfect posture, chin high, hands resting delicately on her teacup like a queen carved from frost and fury. Watching her, I couldn’t help but wonder—how could a woman so stern, so terrifying, have a daughter we were expected to court, love, and one day call mate?
And worse—how could that daughter be anything like her?
Louise Arktisk didn’t glance up as she spoke, her voice calm but razor-edged.
“You will take charge of securing your estate from any further attacks,” she commanded, voice echoing through the room like a judgment passed. “While I remain here, I will ensure it returns to an acceptable state. You will not enter again until I deem you fit. Do not beg. Do not knock. Do not test me.”
Her fingers tapped the rim of her porcelain cup.
“You will also learn something
