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“You're as boring as one of them now. Like a mortal pretending to be Folk. Why don't you just go back to their world, brother?" Wendell's eyes narrowed. "You, on the other hand, have only grown more like the old queen. Or, rather, a poor copy--- plenty of spite and jealousy, but lacking her imagination." The girl's face went white. "The true queen will have you quartered and hung from the battlements, along with those stupid mortals you care so much for." "Your opinion of mortals is so low," Wendell said. "Yet one of them was your mother's undoing. How does it feel to be proven a fool?" "My mother is not dead," she spat, and for a moment I thought she was going to lunge at him. "She cares too much about the realm to--- to---" "To die?" Wendell gave a quiet laugh. "If only there were protection in that! Alas. Our father cared a great deal for the realm, too. But then, you were too young--- I doubt you remember him much. Well, let us go and see what our mother's malice has wrought upon our beloved realm, and then we shall see if there is anything in you but her worst qualities.” — Heather Fawcett