A sheen of tears fuzzed up Zipfarah's eyes as she stared at her daughter sporting a winning smirk on her lips.
Did she have to do this? Zipfarah thought, wondering how they had come to this point-where she would kill her successor.
"I didn't lie, Leonarya. You are my successor. You are the oldest."
Leonarya shook her head with a sad laugh. "If Tempest was still alive, would I have being your successor, mother?"
Zipfarah didn't bother answering, didn't bother lying. Tempest would have been the successor, and they both knew it.
Zipfarah wasn't sure how to feel about that. Yes, she was still angry that Leonarya had killed Tempest, but she had never thought it worth her own head. How could she lose two of her daughters over a human male?
