“You look well, child. I have missed your mischief.” His tone and words startle me; they are filled with care and tenderness, like he's trying to charm me. After having me assaulted and kidn*pped, he seriously thinks I will immediately forgive him because of his pretense of concern and familiarity?
“I wish I could say the same to you Grandfather, but I don’t think this situation calls for social etiquette, do you?” There is the tiniest hint of a quiver in my voice, that negates my attempt at confidence. He smiles in response, it doesn’t reach his eyes. They are so like my fathers, and yet so cold.
“I would have invited you here myself, but you would not have come, thus such…measures... were deemed necessary.” His hand moves to indicate the guards, my injuries, and my feet sitting in a bu
