She looked at him with disgust on her features and hissed, "This is no way I am taking over for you. Nothing you can do to make me change my mind."

Storms broiled about his feet, the air itself seemed drawn to him. Yet she was unmoved. She placed two purple-dyed hands on her hips and glared. "Until today, I didn't have a father. I had rumours, told by those who speculated on who my father was. I had insult, told by those who were certain they knew who he was. And I had my mother's silence and sadness, whenever she looked up to the sky in a storm. Your sky. So don't come here and tell me I'm taking over for you!" She huffed. "I put in eight good years apprenticing to be a weaver. Now that I'm twenty-three and about to be married, you want me to take over for you?"

Lightning flashed across his eyes, but his lips were placid as a stormless sea. "Yes."

"I have two words for you. Two words!" She shoved her hand up in his face with a fist made and turned around. "Go away. Go find some other illegitimate child of yours to bother."