Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“I want half of our packs, the Silverfang Pack’s heirlooms, and fifty million golden coins.”
A small twitch pulled at her lips as she told me, “That would make you richer than your uncles combined.”
“I’m not asking,” I said as I stood.
“Even if you never admit it, I’m the real daughter. Gwyneth is the illegitimate one my father brought home.”
My voice cracked, but I still spoke.
“If I’m going to bind my body and soul to a man who may never care for me, all to save this dying pack, then I will be paid … for every year you let me suffer.”
“You ungrateful little-”
“Ungrateful?”
I let out a small, shaky laugh.
“I grew up in the servants’ rooms, cleaning floors on my knees. As for Gwyneth? She was the one who showed up to every party. Don’t talk to me about gratitude.”
I turned toward the door but paused.
“One more thing,” I said, forcing the words out.
“Reassign Gareth to Gwyneth.”
“That warrior?” my grandmother asked. “The one you protected when your father tried to whip him? The one you refused to let be punished, even starving yourself for four days?”
She gave a short, amused laugh.
“I thought you were in love with him, even though he treated you like trash.”