the Erlking reached for the clasp at Serilda’s throat. As soon as it was undone, she gasped and stepped away, holding the velvet cloak over one arm while she grasped at the fabric of her old, beloved riding cloak with her other hand. “You will not be needing that any longer,” said the Erlking. “My queen need not wear something so tattered and worn.” She swallowed and looked down at the gray wool. Her father had bought it for her in Mondbrück years ago, and it had been a constant companion. Warm enough in the winter, while still comfortable for much of the fall and spring. Yes, it was tattered.
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This rat bastard really said "relinquish all ties to your former life and stay with me, your next birthday will be better (persumably after the baby is born and Perchta is back, meaning stay with me even after i supposedly have no use for you anymore)" and i was never okay again
