"YOU BASTARD!" Vera's voice shattered the silence. "YOU DARE ACCUSE ME OF SUCH VILE THINGS?!"
She was shaking now, truly shaking.
"I am a mother!" she screamed. "I AM A MOTHER!"
The words echoed off the vaulted ceiling and returned to her empty.
"And how can you all believe what he is saying when he is utterly capable of killing his own father?!" Vera's head swiveled, seeking any face that would meet her eyes, any ally who would nod. She found none. "He just cannot wait to get rid of him and sit on the throne himself! He just cannot wait to get rid of me and my childr—"
"Mother."
A young man's voice carried.
"Please stop."
Reginald, the Second Prince, rose from his seat. His movements were stiff, spending every ounce of his courage just to stand. He positioned himself between his mother and his eldest brother, his back to Damon, his face turned toward Vera.
"This is unseemly of you." His voice wavered, but he did not look away from her. "This is Father's funeral."
