I brace myself, waiting for the waves of sadness because ghoul-dad doesn’t want in on my life. But my feelings can be summed up in one word: meh. I’m strangely okay with this whole thing. I shrug.

Mom jiggles the pan with one hand. “Now I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“The other day when you went to hang out with Cissy, what’d you really do?”

I scan the room as if a good story will be written on the wallpaper. “Ah, nothing.” Could I be a worse liar?

Mom picks up an envelope from the counter. “Walker delivered a letter early this morning. From the Queen of the Thrax.”

Dang.

“What’s Walker doing playing mailman for the thrax?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Mom sprinkles spices into the pan. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

“Yup.”

“I see.” She turns down the burner. “The Queen of the Thrax is a diplomatic issue. Maybe I’ll give the Ryders a call; perhaps they’ll have some insight.” She shoots me a sly grin.

I’m so nailed. The last thing I want is her chatting with the Ryders and finding out about the three Lords I flattened, my yelling match in the Library, and who knows what else.

“Okay, I went to this demon hunter tournament with Cissy. The thrax are a bunch of quasi-phobic girl haters and I can’t wait until they crawl back under the rock they came from. That’s it.”

Mom sets my plate in front of me. The omelet sure smells yummy. “The Queen wants you to attend another tournament. This one celebrates winter and names the greatest warrior in Antrum.”

I stuff a bite of omelet into my mouth. “This tastes really good, Mom.” I swallow. “I don’t know why the thrax bother to celebrate the seasons in Purgatory. We have two of them: muddy and not-so-muddy.”

Mom slips into the chair across from mine. “That wasn’t an answer to my question.”

Dammit. She’s in awesome form today. “I’m not going.”

She lets out a low whistle. “You really hate the thrax, huh?”

“You got that right.” I chow down on more of my breakfast.

“Myla, it’s unprecedented for thrax to be in Purgatory at all, let alone interacting with quasis. Normally, they kill anyone with demon blood on sight.”

“So you’re taking the thrax side in this? You haven’t been through the play-by-play. That thrax Prince has been totally insulting.” I remember how he said I deserved to be thanked for saving the Earl, even though I’m a demon. Thanks for nothing, asshat. I tap the tabletop with my pointer finger. “And another thing. Even when you think he’s not being insulting, he ends up being insulting. I don’t care what his title is, he’s going to treat me with respect.”