Eryn pushed through the iron gate and stormed inside the garden. The beauty of the secluded scape did nothing to soothe her anger. Everyone kept talking about how wonderful Mum was, and complete strangers agreed with him.
But they didn’t know her mother. They couldn’t possibly understand what it felt like to lose her.
She pulled at the formal braids she’d been forced to wear and threw her coronet to the ground. She loathed that piece of elven-made silver and all it represented. Especially now. Mum was dead. She left Eryn all alone. No one else would ever understand her, not like Mum did.
Everyone just tolerated her. They had to, because of her father. Bad enough being a half-blood, but with her outbursts…
Eryn knew what her tutors and nannies said about her behind closed doors. She was the freak of the kingdom.
The weight of her mother’s necklace against her throat choked her. Eryn ripped the pendant from her neck and glared at the eight-sided disc. Her reflection stared back; strands of pearls woven into her dark messy hair and pale, pointy ears. She touched the tip and ran a finger along the edge. She wasn’t an elf; not really. Her ears were the only sign that she had any elvish blood at all. Her brother had inherited their mother’s abilities and edere light. Rosse could talk to trees and animals. All Eryn could do was…that thing.
She might as well be all human. She wasn’t anything like her mother.