Taryn tsked as she sipped her tea. This morning's breakfast was a sorry excuse. She still felt hungry even though breakfast had been served later. But it was nothing but a poor excuse of eggs and pottage. How unfortunate, she had been craving some soup once she woke up this morning.
Taryn sipped more of her tea. She was enraged. This day had finally come even though she tried her absolute best to prevent this event from taking place.
Now the day had finally come when that wretch, that brat, that idiot would get married before her own foolish Iker who would not come to his senses quick enough.
There was only so much she could do when her own son wished to hinder himself believing he was doing so for the sake of peace in the family.
To hell with peace—That was what Taryn thought. She wanted her son to be the one to sit on the throne. After all she had suffered and all the torment she had endured under her husband, the only perfect recompense would be to see her own son become king.
