Ginna Reads

“Worse than the smugglers of the Falkyn guild were the damn king and queen. The recovered circlet in hand, I made my way toward the great hall only to collide with my disheveled mother and father emerging from one of the chambers. “What the hells are you doing?” Heat boiled in my face when my bleeding father spun around, still adjusting his damn belt. “You couldn’t wait a night, perhaps a day, before defiling the linens?” “Jonas, really. Emotions run high during a fight. It isn’t all that scandalous.” My mother had the decency to flush as she smoothed her hair. Daj patted my cheek. Hard. “I expected a quiet reprieve when you all were going to the South. You think I would let something as trivial as battles stop me from claiming that with my wife?” “I’m never looking at you again. You’re heathens. No regal blood in your veins.” “Thank you,” both said in the same breath. “Hopeless.” I shoved into the great hall. “Bleeding hopeless.”
― L.J. Andrews, The Mist Thief