THE MOTHER OF THE WEAK ONE
"Where have you been? Why didn't you come back to the execution hall with the guards!" As if the slap wasn't enough, she yelled at him.
Dryan chuckled at her words before he took his hands away from his cheeks, and walked closer to her, closing the gap between them.
"Aren't you the one who instructed me to run away? How would you feel if your son suddenly became the laughing stock?" She wasn't allowed to say anything before he continued, "the crown prince couldn't handle Dasya, and had no choice other than to hide at the back of his mother and guards. How does it sound?"
Aro, who couldn't bear to buckle up the anger in her, raised her hand to slap sense into him, but got her hand hanging.
Finding it unbelievable that her son could stop her hand midway, she raised her gaze to stare at the hand holding hers firmly.
"How dare you hold me, you loser!"