"The same crown you have rejected and abandoned," she said, in the tone she had been using on me since I was four years old. "You do not choose whenever it suits you to remember you are the prince and merely owning that title doesn't mean you deserve it. You have done nothing for your race, other than bury your tool in everything with a skirt and waste away in goblets of wine. I will have no more of your insolence."
Ignoring the anger swelling in my chest, I gave her an amused smile. "And here I thought burying 'my tool' in whatever woman you chose was my most important duty as a prince."
Her lips pulled thin, and the temperature in the room plummeted. "The Red Moon is in eight weeks."
Of course. It always came down to this.
"I'm aware of when the Red Moon is."
"Then you are aware that the priestess has confirmed the alignment. The conditions are--"
