Getting spoiled in a woman dominating world

The room was quiet and that kind of silence pressed against Florence's chest.

The air smelled faintly of incense and old wood polish.

She stood with her hands folded in front of 'her' and her posture is composed but her heartbeat quickened.

Across from her, on a high-backed chair adorned with gilt carvings of roses and hawks, a woman was sitting whom Florence had spent her entire life both fearing and resenting...

Her Mother, the Grand Matriarch.

Her presence filled the room more than the chair ever could.

The sharp lines of her features, the poise of her body, and the merciless authority in her gaze from her prime days are still there.

Her hair is streaked with silver-grey, but it did nothing to soften her.

When her voice finally came, it was low and edged with disdain.

"What…"

Florence's body flinched ever so slightly and she lowered her gaze to the floor.

A daughter again, standing in judgment.

The years of her own rule, her victories, her hard-earned respect… all of it seemed to crumble to dust under her mother's eyes.

The older woman leaned forward just slightly, her grey-blue eyes narrowing slightly.

"Eira is in a relationship… with a man?"

The word 'man' left her lips like it was poison.

Florence's throat tightened.

She had rehearsed this moment a hundred times, imagined how she would defend her daughter, but the reality of her mother's scorn robbed her of breath.

Before Florence could answer, Henriette Bleaufort's lips curled into something between a sneer and a laugh "And above all of that… it is 'that' man?"

Florence lifted her head slightly, "Yes, Mother. It is true. Eira… she loves him."

The matriarch's hand tightened on the armrest of her chair and the veins of her hand stood out like cords.

"Love?"

"You speak to me of love when this is a matter of bloodline, of power, of legacy? Have you gone so soft, Florence, that you will let sentiment chain our House?"

Florence's lips trembled, but she did not look away.

For years, she had swallowed her protests, endured her mother's cold lectures, and tried to balance being a dutiful daughter and the woman she wanted to be.

But now, it isn't just about her... it is about Eira.

"Eira deserves to choose for herself. She has chosen him. And… he is not just any man, Mother. You know this."

Henriette's eyes narrowed further "All the more reason! That boy should not exist. A man wielding ether? It defies the very order of our world. It is an abomination, a danger that every Great House should see crushed before it takes root. And you-"

Her voice sharpened as she raised an accusing finger toward Florence.

"You would let him bed your daughter? You would let him stain our bloodline?"

Florence's chest ached at the venom in the words.

She remembered Eira's smile when she speaks about Brandon.

She thought of the quiet kindness in Brandon himself, so different from the arrogant scions of the Houses who strutted through banquets with ether shimmering at their fingertips.

Florence lowered her hands and "Whether you accept it or not, he is part of Eira's life now. I will not take that from her..."

The matriarch leaned back in her chair and let out a slow, chilling laugh.

"So this is what my daughter has become… defiant. Soft. A mother who lets her child run wild with a monster."

Monster? Florence's gaze trembled as she heard her mother calling Brandon a monster.

Her eyes narrowed further "You already took Kiera from me."

"You molded her into your image and made her into the weapon you always wanted. I stood aside then. I was silent… because I thought perhaps that was her path to strength."

"But Eira is mine. She is still mine."

Florence took a step closer to the grand chair, the sharp click of her heels echoing in the chamber.

"Don't you dare interfere in her life. I will not allow it."

The matriarch's eyes narrowed dangerously, and smiled mockingly "You speak as though you have the power to deny me, child."

"Did you forget who raised you? Who forged this family? Kiera stands as proof of my wisdom, my will. She is strong. She is everything you were too weak to be."

Florence's heart clenched at the mention of Kiera.

A flicker of sorrow passed her face as the memories flooded back.

Kiera's small hands clutching hers as a young girl with her laughter in the gardens and the way her eyes dimmed the older she grew under her grandmother's grooming.

Florence tried to shield her, but in the end, the matriarch's iron hand claimed her elder daughter.

She would not let it happen again.

"You call me weak, Mother… but weakness is not letting your children love."

"Weakness is raising them to fear you more than they feel anything else. You shaped Kiera into a blade, yes... but you stole her joy, her innocence."

"Do you intend to steal Eira as well? To cut her open and hollow her out until nothing but your doctrine remains?"

The Grand Matriarch laughed again, her laughter echoing through the vaulted room "Spare me your sentimental drivel, Florence."

"Love, innocence, joy... what do they buy? Nothing. Only strength endures. Only power keeps our name etched among the Five Great Houses."

"That is the truth I taught you, the truth you refused to grasp. You were always too tender and too afraid to wield the knife. And now your daughter clings to a man... a man who should not exist. A man who will unravel everything we built."

Florence took another step forward, "No. What unravels this family is you."

She raised her voice "I will not let your hand touch Eira's life. I will not see another daughter turned into a tool, stripped of her heart, her soul."

"You may command this House, you may cow the others into obedience, but you will not take her from me. Not Eira. Not this time."

For the first time in many years, the Grand Matriarch did not immediately answer.

Her expression was still cold, but a flicker passed through her eyes. Was it surprise? Amusement? Rage?

Her fingers tapped against the armrest of her chair, "We shall see, Florence. We shall see if your defiance holds… when Kiera herself stands against you."

Florence's chest tightened, but she did not break her stare and gritted in anger.

"... We will see."