Queen Elena couldn't wrap her head around her son's new profound relationship and closeness towards the bratty Adela. Just like the rest of her crew, she too had hidden plans of her own—and one was maybe to get rid of the brat. She had done nothing to offend her, but her presence alone, her manners, and the way she went about everything got on her nerves.
"What is the meaning of this, Edmon? Why would you barge into my room with this uncultured slave?" Queen Elena hissed, tossing a cloak over her transparent silk nightdress.
"Mother… I—" Edmon couldn't finish his words. They just wouldn't come out.
"And you—why are you with my son? Is it that the hunger has struck too deep into your skull, making you forget your manners?"
Adela's eyes narrowed. "I think we began on the wrong footing, and I am here to clear a few things," Adela said, seating herself on the white sofa in her shabby clothes.
