I stood rooted at the gates, watching my father's face transition from shock to indignation. The morning air was crisp, but the heat of my fury warmed me despite the chill. Behind me, Thomas and the other guards maintained a respectful distance, though I could sense their discomfort at witnessing this confrontation.
"You can't be serious, Alaric," my father said, his voice dropping to that placating tone I'd heard countless times throughout my childhood. "I came here in good faith."
"Good faith?" I laughed coldly. "Is that what you call it? Showing up unannounced after weeks of silence to demand our presence at your birthday celebration?"
Father's jaw tightened. "I didn't 'demand' anything. I extended an invitation—"
"To legitimize your mistress," I finished for him. "Let's not pretend this is about family reconciliation. You want Isabella and me there to make Verena's presence more acceptable to society."
