As Franklin—my stepson—looked at me, there was fear in his eyes, the kind reserved only for monsters. Was I a monster? Perhaps I was. But if I was one, I was my monster. No one could control me; no one could own me. Too bad for him. Too bad for all of them.
I sat on my throne—the symbol of my future as emperor—and studied him as he stood beneath me. My daughters, Iuya and Shuri, lingered by his side. They tried to comfort him, to act as his pillars, yet their trembling hands betrayed them. They were afraid. They weren't truly my daughters. I wasn't their mother. I was someone who had transmigrated into this body—a stranger given a second chance at life.
They were pathetic.
Cowards.
Mave and Kaylah weren't too brave either. They were hiding behind their lover as if he could protect them.
