"I like the matriarchy," Ilde opines, and somewhere in her world Ælfræd develops a rage-headache about his last scion trailing around behind witch queens like the fae haven't long since learned to keep their bedamned distance, what are you doing, child. "It's how things are with the enclave, now."

Which has been a learning curve, mainly for the men affiliated; she took to the notion that they should suck it up like a duck to water.

"And Mitchell tried to backpedal after I told him he was being shitty, but I don't know. Maybe he just says things." Stupid things.