Page 12 of The Crown’s Temptation

"I am here," Nox said carefully, "to gain what I need to give you the kingdom and freedom you want. That is why I am in Morrath. That is why I am in this room. That is why I have arranged dinner." She paused. "All of this is for you."

Aviaryn did not look convinced.

"Regaining my strength is best done in Briavar," Nox continued.

"No." Immediate. Absolute. "It is boring there and it smells like dead animals."

"It is intended to. The animals there are of a feeder variety, which means⁠—"

"It makes me vomit."

Nox stared at her. "And what is your alternative? Spend your mornings punishing people and your evenings wandering the tunnels of Umbrelai?"

"What is wrong with the tunnels of Umbrelai?"

"What is wrong," Nox said, with the measured patience of someone who had been having variations of this conversation for longer than she cared to calculate, "is that they lead to places unknown. Some call it a labyrinth. And your precious Umbrelai may seem loyal but there are creatures there you have not brought to heel. Who is to say one will not attack you if you get lost? There are rumors that those tunnels lead to other kingdoms entirely." She paused. “And you should wear shoes, Aviaryn. I do not like you walking around barefoot.”

Aviaryn looked at her with those eyes of hers, the ones that were too old and too calm and too certain for something that was technically her daughter. "I play down there," she said. "With myself, or with creatures that entertain me."

"You should play with a friend."

A pause. “A friend? I do not know what that is. Is it a companion of some sort?"

Nox closed her eyes briefly. "Yes."

When she opened them Aviaryn was watching her with something that was not quite warmth and not quite its absence, an ambiguous middle that Nox had never been able to map precisely.

"Be careful," Nox said. The words came out differently than she intended.

Aviaryn tilted her head.

"You will come to Briavar with me," Nox continued.

"Shame on you, mother, for thinking you can control me with your phrase." Aviaryn's voice was light. Unbothered. "My mind is stronger now, thanks to Axar." She looked at Nox directly. "Perhaps you should work on your own mind. Make yourself more pleasant so my father will want to be around you."

"Aviaryn—"

"I do not care." She said it gently, which was worse. "But if you try to compel my mind I will give you Nightmares for so many days that you will wish I had never been born."

"I already⁠—"

"That is enough, mother." Something in Aviaryn's voice shifted, barely, just enough. "I do not want you to say something you regret."

"I am a feeder," Nox said. "I do not have that luxury." A pause. "Nor do you."

Aviaryn looked at her. Then she looked at the human on the table. His heart was beating, his pulse was steady, his eyes vacant. The tips of his fingers were gray, the gray of a deathmage that had been prepared for this purpose rather than chosen for any quality of its own.

"His blood smells like a sewer," Aviaryn said. He probably used to clean them before he became this. She wrinkled her nose, then looked down at the plate of food in front of her. “And the tonight’s food has too many vegetables.”

She pushed the plate away. "I prefer starvation tonight."

And with that, she walked away.

Nox stood in the room with the prepared meal and the careful silence and the human that had cost her more consideration than it deserved, and she did not call after her.

She looked at Flagsar, who had reappeared in the doorway.

"Get rid of it," she said.