I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Chapter 893: You are insane

She stood as well, more slowly than he had, and the difference in their movements only sharpened the imbalance in the room. He was tense with anger and fear. She was composed within her fury and that made her even more dangerous.

“I know what kind of boy he was before he left,” she said. “And I know that even now, after all this sudden power and control, something restless still sits in him.”

“You will not speak of my son that way.”

“I will speak of him exactly as the truth allows,” the Queen Mother replied. “You want to refuse me with the language of fatherhood and duty. Then you should have raised a son whose name could not be used as a blade.”

The Duke took one step forward, then stopped himself. His voice came out lower, strained to the edge of breaking.

“Whatever he was, he is not that man now.”

“That remains to be proven,” she said. “And even if it were true, it would not erase what already exists in memory and report.”

Outside the doorway, Julian’s mind was racing.

He had always known that Kraven’s old reputation could be used as a liability. It was one of the first things he mapped after taking the body.

But hearing it used here, in this room, by the Queen Mother herself, changed the scale of the danger. This was no longer internal family rot. It was political ammunition in the hands of a woman who already held one treason over the Duke’s head.

Inside the room, the Duke’s composure continued to fray.

“Who told you?” he demanded. “Was it Liam? One of the capital’s informants? A servant sold out of this house?”

The Queen Mother smiled faintly.

“You are asking the wrong question. The useful question is not who told me. It is why I waited until now to let you know that I already possessed the story.”

The Duke stared at her.

“You waited.”

“Of course I waited,” she said. “Information used too early is wasted. Information used at the right table becomes power. Tonight you refused me. That made this the right table.”

“You would threaten my son over a refusal.”

“I am reminding you that refusal has consequences,” she answered. “You seem to have forgotten that part of our history.”

The Duke’s breathing had grown harder to control. “If any of this reaches the King—”

“Then you should pray it reaches him through me and not through uglier mouths,” the Queen Mother said. “I can at least lessen the damage but there are enough who would simply want you to burn.”

She walked a few steps along the side of the table, then stopped with her back partly turned toward him.

“You should also stop underestimating how closely blood follows pattern. You wanted what was forbidden and called it passion. Your son wanted what was forbidden and called it obsession. From where I stand, Astran men appear remarkably consistent.”

“That is enough.”

“Is it?” She looked back over her shoulder. “

The Duke’s voice roughened. “He is still my son.”

“Yes,” the Queen Mother said. “And that is precisely why he matters. A stranger’s shame is entertainment. A son’s shame is inheritance.”

Julian felt the line strike deeper than the rest.

Inheritance.

That was the true edge of what she was doing. She was not merely insulting Kraven. She was binding the father’s old treason and the son’s old scandal into one continuous argument: that House Astran was corrupt in its blood.

The Duke seemed to understand it too.

How could he not?

No matter how much justice and loyalty he preached, he knew exactly how bad the situation was.

This was not an ambush from an outside enemy.

It was the consequence of his own actions.

He had built a respectable life over the ruins of an old crime, and now the woman from that crime was standing in his house, holding both the past and his son’s reputation in her hands.

So maybe that was why, for a moment, he looked like a man with nothing left to do.

In truth, he could still do one thing.

He could agree.

The thought alone made his stomach turn. If he crossed that boundary again, the same situation could return later in uglier forms. One concession often invited the next. He had ruled long enough to know how blackmail worked.

His mind felt briefly overloaded, caught between anger, shame, and helplessness.

But he was still a clever man.

After decades as Duke of Astran, he knew when to push and when a hard line would only make the damage worse. Silence would not protect him here. Defying might destroy the house overnight.

What remained was surrender.

With a reluctant sigh, he asked,

“What do you want?”

The Queen Mother turned to face him fully.

A shrewd smile touched her mouth.

“Previously,” she said, and paused on purpose, watching him flinch, “I wanted nothing more than for you to court my bed again.”

The Duke’s shoulders stiffened.

She let the silence stretch just long enough to enjoy it, then continued.

“Now I want more. I want the father and the son.”

The words landed with brutal clarity.

The Duke stared at her as if he had misheard. Color drained from his face, then returned in a rush of anger and disbelief.

“You want… both of us?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “That is my price. If you refuse, I will let everyone know what you did when the old king still lived. And while I am at it, I will make certain the capital remembers every filthy story attached to your son’s name.”

“You are insane.”

“No,” the Queen Mother replied. “I am exact. You refused me as a man. So now you will answer me as a father and a criminal at the same time.”

The Duke’s hands curled into fists. “I will not drag my son into your bed.”

“Then the court will drag your house into the mud,” she said. “Choose.”

The room felt smaller under the weight of that choice.

The Duke took one hard breath, then another.