"Father, we need to talk."
Selene tightened her jaw and strode across her father's study, struggling to hold back her anger. The smell of parchment and ink filled the air, but she was too furious to notice.
Lord Aldric sat behind his large oak desk and looked at her calmly. He didn't seem surprised; in fact, he appeared slightly amused, which only made her anger grow even stronger.
"I take it things didn't go as planned?" he mused, setting down his quill.
Selene exhaled sharply. "No. They most certainly did not."
Aldric leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together. "Care to explain?"
Selene paced the room, her silk gown flowing behind her like a storm. "That woman—Evelina—is growing bolder by the day." She whirled to face him. "She openly defied me today, and Damian let her."
Lord Aldric's brows lifted slightly. "Ah. And that bothers you?"
Selene's fists curled. "You know why it does."
