"Do you really think a mother's love is that petty? Your mother isn't even a religious woman, silly girl." Amelia said between soft giggles, the corners of her lips curving into a tender smile.
"I promise she won't even notice your current form while she's showering you with affection.
Mireya remained motionless, her blood-red eyes slowly shifting toward Ethan.
"Mother is right…" Ethan said, his voice calm and steady. "If Ysara were really going to reject you for becoming a death knight—and she won't—no amount of preparation in the world would fix that."
Ethan stood up, took a sip of the green fairy's wine, and walked over to Mireya, sealing her lips with a sweet, brief kiss.
She still hadn't responded. Her blood-red eyes trembled, their crimson glow seeming almost liquid.
It was comical, really.
She had been one of the greatest geniuses of her generation, a swordswoman no less talented than her own mother.
