Those words that had been so difficult for him to say, they must have meant much for his young heir, for Verdant's fist was clenched in a quivering fist, and he made his reply before he could work to level his voice. "Thank you, father! I shall win you those achievements, in my Lord's name."
The Idris Lord could only favour his son with a last quiet nod. He wished to say no more. He wanted a return of order. With Lord Blackthorn steaming a fury as hot as a smith's forge, though, that return of order seemed to be unlikely.
"Your daughter, Lord Blackthorn, she awaits your response," Lancelot said, on behalf of Queen Asabel.
"No," Lord Blackthorn said, furiously and stubbornly. "I've allowed you your games, but you go too far. You'll break your mother's heart."
