Arken clenched the armrest of his throne. Even he could tell that the items before him were of far higher quality than anything currently available in Eryx.
At the same time, he had no desire to act chummy with his father, so it was much easier to accept if their relationship remained strictly business.
"Very well. I'll agree to your terms," he said at last. "But aside from this, I also want you to teach me more advanced magic."
"Deal," Asher agreed.
"Secondly—after I'm done helping you, promise me this," Arken eyes turned colder "Never show your face to me again. Just looking at you makes me sick."
"Arken!" Lizana raised her voice.
"No, Mother. That's my condition." His gaze didn't waver. "You have to choose—him or me?"
She hesitated—proof that even after being left behind, her love for Asher still ran deep. Arken knew this all too well. It was why his mother had never remarried.
