Blackfeather Woods lord of the flies

Those ice blocks shattered on the floor of his mind and reverberated in his skull at length; cracking and echoing over and over. 'Mother said so'. Once he had nonchalantly accepted what their mother was to them — little more than begrudging warmth and food in their infancy and nothing since — but it was an insult now and it rankled him to hear his sister defend her in any way and to know that the two of them spoke and shared a personal conversation.

"It does not feel wrong to me." He answered and there was cold distance in his tone. The warmth, the concern and the curiosity that once characterized his speech and his expression had dissipated. "It feels wrong to call her our mother. It feels right for Cicero to be our father." Euron clenched his jaw, biting down on his anger and an onslaught of other indistinct and bothersome feelings. Cicero had been there for them, had wanted to be there for them. Potema had been forced. Cicero paid them attention, and taught them, and was good. Potema had left as soon as she could; she was all that was wrong.

He winced. The ache in his head was persisting and each throb was more severe than the last. It burdened him with a sudden exhaustion. Euron disengaged despite his want to correct Maegi and make her stop thinking such foolishness. He took a step back and slowly shook his head, and in doing so, staggered and nearly fell before he gathered himself and cast his sister a sullen look. He opened his mouth as if to make one last argument... but changed his mind.

Sighing, Euron turned away, murmuring, "I love you," as he made to leave.