I had thought I knew the depths of my hatred. I had thought I understood what it meant to despise someone so completely that their very existence felt like a wound that would never heal. But as I stood in the dim candlelight of the Queen Mother’s private chambers, I realized how little I truly knew.
Luca was a monster. But his mother?
She was something worse.
She sat with perfect poise, draped in deep crimson robes, her fingers gliding over the rim of her wine glass. The glow of the fire flickered against her sharp features, casting shadows that made her look even more sinister.
“He is my son,” she mused, swirling the liquid. “But I was never meant to serve under anyone.”
My fingers curled into fists at my sides.
This woman… she was cold, calculating. I had expected her to be indiffe
