Ford frowned. The man said his name as if it should mean something to them. It certainly didn't to him.
"I don't remember you," Mia tilted her head. "Should I?"
Denholm's eyes narrowed. "You don't know my name, not at all?"
Mia thought and shook her head slowly. "Should I?"
The man's grip visibly tightened on the knife.
"No one ever mentioned me? Not your aunt, nor your uncle? Princess Sapphira? Nobody talked about me??" He said through gritted teeth.
"Should they have?" Mia bit her lip nervously and shrugged. "I'm sorry."
"I WAS ENGAGED TO THE PRINCESS," Denholm raged suddenly, striding towards the woman and lifting a hand to strike her with the back of it, "I WAS A HAIR'S BREADTH AWAY FROM RULING THE WORLD WITH MY FATHER!"
