There came a breath of air through Rhysand's nose as he adjusted to her question. When he answered he was truthful, if not a little short. "My father was a man of very strong opinions, very different from myself. We did not agree on many things, including the methods to being a lord." He told her then tilt his head in the other direction as if to tick off a new topic.
"My mother was strong and beautiful, body and soul. She was Illyrian, whereas my father was High Fae. My mother was passionate about saving her people from the atrocities that their traditions caused. She died by the hands of someone I called a friend. As did my little sister. My father later came to a similar fate when we sought revenge."
Rhsyand spoke so coolly, casually, as if it didn't bother him at all. Yet within he felt his stomach in knots, his heart beat a tick faster with anger. He never let it go--but neither had Tamlin for the things Rhys had done to his family in return. Now, both were alone, the only living males to the family.