BASTIAN
“Don't even think about touching a hair on their heads, or your head will roll first,” my mother tells the blonde woman through gritted teeth.
The blonde laughs with a mocking expression as she watches my mother stand up in front of August, Iris, and the rest of the group of warriors that arrived with them.
“The king is the one who makes the decision, not the queen mother,” the blonde responds, and my mother looks at her with such fury that she seems to be about to make good on her threat and rip off her head.
"Bastian?" My mother whispers, with a worried look on her face, and I feel like dropping my facade and executing the blonde here and now, but I have to hold on a little longer, at least until I know what her plans are, and how she intends to attack Elina.
“Just keep them
