Yiren's cheeks colored, her slender fingers curling into shaking fists. "Moooom… what are you saying?" she sputtered, trying—unsuccessfully—to muster an outraged expression. It came across more flustered than furious. She had wanted time to get to know Xuefeng herself before he learned why he was brought here, and now her mother had shattered that hope in a single sentence.
The Queen merely tilted her head, softening her gaze. "Yiren, I understand your feelings, but he needs to know the truth—why we've kept this custom alive for thousands of years. As a future Queen, you mustn't think only of yourself. You carry the fate of our entire race." Gently, she reached out to pat her daughter's head.
Yiren slapped her mother's hand away, tears threatening to pool in her golden eyes. "Oh, so I'm just supposed to do this for the good of the clan," she flung back, her voice trembling. "Then I'll be filled with the same sadness you've had for all these years? Is that it?"
