Kendrick
The flickering glow of the fire cast dancing shadows along the walls of my study. My mother, Felicia, sat across from me, her sharp gaze unwavering. She had summoned me for a private conversation, her tone leaving no room for refusal. Though I rarely allowed anyone to question my choices, she was my mother—a woman whose wisdom had guided me long before I earned the title of the Blood Lord.
I leaned back in my chair, studying her carefully as she adjusted the folds of her elegant dress. “What is it, Mother?” I asked, though I already suspected the topic.
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she took a sip from the cup of tea she held, her eyes never leaving mine. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm but deliberate. “I need to understand something, Kendrick. Your marriag
