Asterias knew that he had anger. He had blessed by it. His father had promised him that it got better. He would be able to find a mechanism to cope; he would find reasons to control it. Apparently, his mother had been the reason Magnus had allowed himself to become leashed. He had controlled his rage into a weapon, sharpening it.
Like father like son, Asterias was doing the same.
"Is the Princess here?" He asked as he walked through the double doors with ease. The usual staff greeted him. They were used to his presence walking through the doors. His steps achingly familiar as Sylvia's eyes lit up.
