Chapter 329: Grandfather

If there was a girl inside Odette once who loved a boy, I saw a glimmer of her the moment Ivan Dumont emerged from Gram to face the Council. He stood tall and proud, regal even, a king among us, at least in his own estimation.

"Ivan." Odette's voice cracked, his name a croak from her lips. As she reached out toward him, her disguise slipped a little, enough the horrid, withered, and evil old crone behind the slim veneer of beauty she barely maintained showed through.

Ivan sneered at her. "Odette," he said. "What have you become?"

She flinched, cried out. "My love," she whispered.

"Love." He laughed openly, harshly. "I never loved you. You promised me power. That was all I cared about." His beautiful face twisted in hate. "Now look at you."

Odette's howl of agony almost made me feel sorry for her.

Almost.

Now it was her turn to bury her face in her hands and weep while Ivan surveyed the crowd with his same look of superiority. I think I would have learned to despise my grandfathe