Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 542: Information That Would Save Issac’s Life

Chapter 542: Information That Would Save Issac’s Life

An urgent knock rasped on Oma’s door, interrupting the quiet rhythm of her afternoon. With a resigned sigh, she set aside her embroidery and pushed herself up from her comfortable chair. The persistent pattern of knocking was all too familiar, and Oma could already guess the identity of the visitor—it could only be her daughter, Kayla. She had sent her on a simple errand, and Kayla should have returned by now.

Frowning at the impatience displayed by the repeated knocks, Oma called out towards the door, "I’m coming!" Her voice carried through the room, echoing off the walls, and she was relieved when the knocking finally ceased. Oma couldn’t help but shake her head at the lack of patience displayed by the younger generation.

With brisk steps, Oma crossed the room and pulled the door open, fully prepared to deliver a scolding to her daughter. However, her words caught in her throat as she found herself face to face with another unexpected visitor standing at the entrance—Anya.

Oma’s eyes widened, blinking once, then twice, as if unable to believe Anya was standing right in front of her. Then, a surge of anger overtook her, raw and unsaturated. The rage showed on her face, and the best way to express it would be to slam the door in Anya’s face. How dare she return here?!

Before Oma could carry out her anger, Anya swiftly reached out and caught the door before it shut. Confusion clouded her mind as to why Oma was furious with her, but recalling her last unsuccessful visit, she could only speculate that Maxi must have poisoned Oma’s mind with lies, manipulating her with ease. Oma was too soft and kind and it wouldn’t be too hard for that bitch to have her wrapped around her finger. She really hated Maxi!

"What do you think you’re doing?" Oma’s voice sliced through the air, icy and sharp, reminiscent of Aldric’s harsh winter winds. She cast a disdainful glance at Anya’s attempt to hold the door open, her anger palpable. If Oma could, she would have shattered those hands into pieces.

Anya trembled, feeling the intense hatred emanating from Oma’s eyes, her brows furrowed in confusion. She couldn’t comprehend what Maxi could have possibly said to turn Oma, who had cherished her since childhood, against her with such animosity.

Anya’s sharp mind quickly assessed the situation. She understood that Oma’s impatience would not tolerate questions about her sudden change in demeanor. Any inquiry might be perceived as disrespect. Anya knew she had to be direct. This was her opportunity to reveal the truth to Oma and potentially save Issac before it was too late.

"I need to tell you something," Anya urged, her tone urgent.

But Oma responded nonchalantly, "Not interested."

Anya’s eyes widened in shock. This was unprecedented. Oma had always been willing to listen to her before. Anya had believed everything was okay, but clearly, that was not the case anymore. Oma’s sudden animosity felt like a stab to the gut. Oma wasn’t her biological mother, but she had embraced that role in her life. So why was Oma treating her like this? How could she choose a stranger over her?

Anya refused to give up. Swallowing her pride, she took a step forward and pleaded with Oma. "Please."

Oma remained with her arms tightly wrapped around her chest, her stance unwavering as she stood in the entrance, her demeanor fierce. But when Anya begged her with desperation, Oma relented just a little. "Make it short," she said gruffly.

With a sigh of relief, Anya watched as Oma finally yielded, stepping aside to allow her entry into the house she knew like the back of her hand. She had been coming here since she was in diapers with Issac. It wasn’t just a feeling; it was her second home, until it wasn’t anymore. All thanks to Maxi.

In the living room, Anya found herself lost in admiration of the subtle changes made to the place since her last visit when Oma’s voice abruptly snapped her out of her reverie.

"I didn’t realize you came here to mope around, Anya. I don’t have time to waste. If you have something to say, speak now," Oma’s tone was so harsh that Anya recoiled in fear.

This was a side of Oma she had never witnessed before. The usually sweet and easygoing Fae had transformed into a cold, austere figure that Anya struggled to recognize. As she reflected on it, she realized that the icy demeanor wasn’t just directed at her, but towards her entire family.

Anya’s father remained unaffected by the tension, dismissing it as mere female squabbles. However, the rift between Oma and her mother was apparent to everyone in their Fae circles. It was a shock to many, considering their families had been friends for centuries.

Unfortunately, Anya’s mother couldn’t bring herself to approach Oma and inquire about the discord. Her pride prevented her from taking the initiative to reconcile. She would rather let the strife continue indefinitely than be the one to "stoop so low" as to seek reconciliation.

"Oma, I —" Anya began, only to be swiftly cut off by Oma’s stern voice.

"It’s Mrs. Whitlock from now on," Oma declared, her tone firm and uncompromising.

Anya blinked in disbelief, struggling to comprehend Oma’s sudden demand. "What?" she stammered, taken aback by the unexpected request.

"You heard me right, miss Anya, and I don’t like to repeat myself twice," Oma retorted, her gaze piercing and unyielding.

Anya’s initial shock gave way to incredulity as she scoffed in disbelief, a hysterical chuckle escaping her lips. "This is utterly ridiculous, Oma —" she protested, only to be swiftly corrected by Oma’s sharp interjection.

"Mrs. Whitlock," Oma emphasized, her tone laced with such intensity that it wiped the smile from Anya’s face, leaving her sobered by the seriousness of Oma’s demand.

"If you want to talk to me, you would address me with due respect, unless of course, you want to get the hell out of here," Oma challenged, her eyes blazing with determination.

Anya’s mouth twitched with frustration, but she quickly composed herself, realizing that Issac’s mother was not one to be trifled with.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Whitlock, I’m Anya," she introduced herself, injecting a hint of snark into her tone. If Oma noticed, she gave no indication, her expression remaining stoic and unreadable.

Anya pressed on, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "And I have vital information that would save your son from the danger he’s currently in," she revealed, her eyes meeting Oma’s with a glimmer of hope.

For the first time since Anya’s arrival, Oma looked at her with intrigue rather than disdain, her curiosity piqued by Anya’s words. Anya couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the shift in Oma’s demeanor. Perhaps there was hope yet.