I look seriously up into my father’s green eyes, my stomach turning over with anxiety.
“Never, ever,” my father growls, “let a man raise his voice at you like that again. Do you hear me?” I can hear the anger rolling in him now – anger that I can tell he’s been tucking away for my sake.
Tears spring to my eyes suddenly, even as they go even wider with surprise. Because that? I was not expecting that.
“What?” I breathe, totally confused.
Dad continues to look into my eyes as if this is the most serious thing he’s ever communicated to me. “Remember who you are, Ariel Sinclair. And it’s beyond the fact that you are my daughter, and that you’re goddess-born, and that you’re a Princess of this nation – all of which are things that should scare the living daylights out of any man who think
