“No time. We can figure out the name thing after we kill your father then. His severed head can sit and watch me kick your ass so he gets a front row seat to the moment when his precious Heir is forced to bow at long last and the final shred of hope for his empire dies. It’ll be romantic.” “Fuck I love it when you talk like a psychopath,” I said. “I do it a whole lot more since I met you,” she replied.
