172 Hrod's Weakness

Tyr strode up the steps that led to the large double doors that adorned his family estate. The servants were lined up and greeted him with deep bows. I was after dinner and the lights from their home illuminated the surrounding darkness.

An older butler, Ernst, followed behind him. The man had a few white hairs at his temples and had supposedly moved with his family when they left Phocée. Tyr wondered if his mother would eventually give the butler an elixir of youth for his faithful services or not. Hrod seemed to tolerate Ernst and Ernst seemed to tolerate his mother's temperament.

The butler's pale green eyes gazed at his master's back. He wished Lord Valois would use an airship instead of traversing the Outer-Reaches. As of now, they still did not have an heir that would carry on the Valois name and he knew the elder Lady Valois was agitated by that.

Ernst's voice sounded as if his throat was tight and the monotonous sound barely escaped through a sealed box, "My Lord, it is late and Lady Valois has already retired to her room. Would you like anything to eat?"

Tyr did not bother replying. Instead, he continued on to his mother's bedroom. The damage from Skadi's attack years before had all been fixed. The house seemed frozen in time, except for the new artwork that donned the walls. Even the carpet that had been stained red from blood was recreated so the walk to the bedroom would be the same as before.

He stood, staring at his mother's door. Green gems that created ivy leaves decorated the golden handle, and he placed his hand on the cold metal. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Hrod's actions during the war infuriated him.

The deep breath did not work, so he tried it five more times. Each time he slowly exhaled. When he closed his eyes, he tried to envision relaxing by the fire with Macha. This was one of his favorite things to do and always thought about it whenever he was angry.

Macha continually advised him to reign in his temper and had him practice these breathing exercises. When his rage was tempered, his dark brown lashes parted, revealing his vibrant green eyes. He pushed open the heavy wooden doors, ready to face the harpy of a woman who claimed to be his mother.

Hrod sat at her dresser, applying her night creams to her face. She admired her beauty before closing her eyes to enjoy the relaxing smell of the lotions. While Hymir was alive, he loved applying these cosmetics for her while telling her how beautiful she was.

The door to her bedroom slammed against her wall and her eyes shot open, spotting her son's displeased reflection in the mirror. Her eyebrows came together with disapproval. In all his life, Tyr never entered her chambers without knocking.

"Excuse me, is that how you enter a room? Were the servants daft? Did they not inform you that I am getting ready for bed?"

She eyed a young girl, annoyed at how good help was so difficult to find. In life, Hrod felt as if she was surrounded by idiots and no one ever understood her annoyance.

"You're getting ready for bed? Your conscience is so clean that you can sleep peacefully?" he let out sarcastically.

He strode further into the room and his temper rose again. Just seeing her face annoyed him. At that moment, he realized that she did not even welcome him back from the war.

His voice was harsh and forceful, "We will talk right now. Also, I'm healthy and well, thank you for asking."

Hearing her child speak to her so defiantly brought her to her feet. She turned to the young servant that waited quietly in the room, "Get out."

After the girl closed the door, she raised her finger at her son, "Listen to me, I am your mother and you must obey me. Now go to your bedroom. I shall deal with your outburst tomorrow."

Tyr crossed the colorful silk rug with long strides. He then flopped down in a chair that stood by the fireplace and put an ankle over his knee. There was no doubt in his mind that his lazy movements would upset her.

He tapped his fingers on the armrest, "I MUST obey you. I must… What an interesting word. If you are my mother and desire that privilege, then perhaps you should start acting like one." His green eyes locked with hers, "While I was gone you had Ullr visiting Macha every day. Yet, I specifically remember telling you that I do not want him around anymore." While his posture was lazy, his voice rang with danger.

Hrod turned her back on her son. She waved a hand in the air, "Really Tyr, stop being so childish. Unless you do not trust her... After all, Ullr only offered to assist her, I did not force anyone to do anything."

"Mother, you mean to make me into a cuckold. I will not have it," his voice warned. "You're aware that I own the estates. I can fire all the servants and force you to do everything on your own." His eyes frosted over. This was not an empty threat, and he meant to do it if he had to.

This caused Hrod to spin around to face him. The long skirt of her silk nightgown swished along the floor. Her son never joked or exaggerated things.

"I'm your mother! I was nice to that woman for three years like you told me to be." Her body shook with anger, "How could you even threaten me like this? You are not even married to that beggar how could you be a cuckold?"

Her nose wrinkled with disgust. Her son did not even appreciate her efforts of keeping the family pure. "You should be thanking me. I was the only one thinking of our family's future, while you wandered around and left to play in that stupid little war."

Their arguing was raising Tyr's temper. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself.

The vein in his forehead began to show, "Either you come to your senses or you can go live with Krystof and Luna when they marry. I will not have you trying to thwart me behind my back."

He spent hours thinking about what his mother loved. The only thing she ever paid attention to was their family estate. She hated leaving it and took great joy in decorating it.

Hrod's green eyes grew wide at the sudden realization that he meant to kick her out of the house. This was her home. She had lived in it for hundreds of years.

Looking into the fire, Hrod choked out, "You are an ungrateful wretch. How could you?"

This was the one thing she would never give up. It was the life and home she built with Hymir. For her son to be so cruel as to threaten to take it away from her, broke her heart.

The broken sound in her voice let Tyr know he won. His heart began to settle, and he was glad that he controlled his temper this time. For once in his life, he did not have to stop talking with her for decades. While it was not a perfect victory, at least they would keep communicating.

His voice was low and unmoving, it held no love for the woman who claimed to be his mother. "Come back with me and apologize to Macha. Your antics caused her to be uncomfortable for years. It also inconvenienced Freyr, you should be ashamed of yourself."

When her son asked her to ask Macha for forgiveness, her eye twitched. "Me, apologize to her? I'm a Valois! Why should I apologize for anything?" Shaking her head, she added, "I don't know how you got her to become a Swat, but that is still far beneath our station. Don't think she is even close to being on par with us."

While the Swat household did not make the official announcement yet, her friends had heard the rumors circulating about how the mediocre family was adopting the strange woman.

The words coming out of his mother's mouth were so pompous that Tyr slammed his hand on the chair's armrest, "Listen to yourself. You're so pretentious. Do you honestly think a name makes a person? If you spent any time in Marseille, you would realize an individual is not just a name. People can rise above where they were born in life."

He got up and paced the room, trying to keep the disappointment he had for his mother subdued, "Do you forget what Uncle Njord said? He believed in always improving. The years pass by, yet you're locked in this house, refusing to change your ways."

He pointed out the window, "Wake up! The world is changing, but you remain stuck in the past."

After Tyr mentioned her brother, Njord, Hrod frowned. Her elder brother had been a dreamer and so radical. The way Tyr acted often reminded her of Njord. The children nowadays all seemed to have the same open-minded outlook on life as her brother.

She believed dreams were for idiots. Both of her brothers died, and she was the only one left. She still remained because she had been the practical one and not some idealist dreamer. The world was ruled by two things: money and power.

His mother made no comment. His eyes grew cold and his voice lowered, "Either you leave with me tomorrow to apologize to Macha, or you leave this house and we do not talk until you apologize to Macha." This was unnegotiable to him. "Also, if I EVER hear of you plotting something like this again, you will receive half the amount of living expenses you receive now. It will continue to be halved for every transgression thereafter."

When he said those words, he knew his mother would leave with him. She had no other choice if she wanted to stay in their family's house. Luna and Krystof would gladly accept her, but their future home would be nowhere as nice as this one. It also lacked all of the memories and sentimental value that this home had.

Hrod trembled. The thought of apologizing to a person beneath her was ridiculous. She did not know where she went wrong raising her child, but she wished she had obedient children like Ullr. He never caused Thor any problems and understood his duties well. After reflection, she could only assume it was because they did not beat their children.

She raised her nose into the air and turned her back on Tyr. "You may leave now. I shall go with you to Marseille whenever you decide to leave." She rolled her eyes and sarcastically added, "I'm quite sure Macha will be ecstatic to see me. She always is..."