“What.” the pink-haired woman looked up at her father in utter and complete disbelief.
The single word uttered was not a question but a statement, properly portrayed by the woman’s expressionless face and piercing ice blue eyes.
Even the man on the throne fought the urge to squirm under her relentless glare.
As he appeared to be grasping for words, gesturing with his hands and opening and closing his gaping mouth, the woman spoke again.
“I go to my room for ten minutes and you manage to provoke an alien race.
Not only that, no, that would never do because you are a man of excellence, and so you went and provoked what is quite possibly the most dangerous race in the history of the universes.”
“It will do you well to hold your tongue.” snapped her father, “We have been at war with them for decades, and now they wish to give us peace.
Many lives are wasted, both human and otherwise, on that battlefield, Luka.
You know as well as I of the husbands, wives, and children who come to us in poverty after the head of their family has been slaughtered. To pass up an opportunity like this would be insanity.”
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