In Wales, the energy coming from Nianzang's room had set off alarms in the security office. Diyiren didn't need a messenger to tell him. He could hear the alarms and he could sense the energy. He measured his pace going to his son's room. He didn't knock, though he usually did.
Nianzang twirled around, hid something behind his back. Then he started gathering up letters, hiding them under his bed.
"Really?" Diyiren stepped forward, snatched the letter that was in his hand. "How old are you?"
We were betrothed. I had no choice in the agreement. Women were commodities back then and as far as your father was concerned, I was his property. He was more than a little disgruntled that I didn't automatically obey him.
The sting of tears hadn't reached Diyiren's eyes in hundreds of years. In his son's room, he had no escape.
Lock it inside. If they know they can hurt you, they'll torture you until you beg. And then they'll laugh.
Diyiren discarded the letter to the bedside table, batted his eyes, gave himself a few minutes to clear the clutter in his brain.
"This is a good thing." He stepped toward the door, continued, "Don't ask her to come visit, to move back here. She won't. Let her come to you. Don't tell her I found out about this. But if she asks for a meeting, I will help you. I want you to know your mother."
YOU ARE READING
The Lamb and the Gray Battle
FantasyEvie has spent the last 575 years on the North American continent, now called America, the Pure and Clean. She smiles, volunteers and makes cakes and pastries for her neighbors, hiding away her demon blood. She wants nothing to do with her estranged...
