She stood as well, more slowly than he had, and the difference in their movements only sharpened the imbalance in the room. He was tense with anger and fear. She was composed within her fury and that made her even more dangerous.
"I know what kind of boy he was before he left," she said. "And I know that even now, after all this sudden power and control, something restless still sits in him."
"You will not speak of my son that way."
"I will speak of him exactly as the truth allows," the Queen Mother replied. "You want to refuse me with the language of fatherhood and duty. Then you should have raised a son whose name could not be used as a blade."
The Duke took one step forward, then stopped himself. His voice came out lower, strained to the edge of breaking.
"Whatever he was, he is not that man now."
"That remains to be proven," she said. "And even if it were true, it would not erase what already exists in memory and report."
Outside the doorway, Julian's mind was racing.
