The Dark Lord considered the years that passed since His ill-begotten son was murdered by the faithless to be of little importance. It was not only His son that He mourned, but the child’s mother. Burnt at the stake when that mortal king – John – had ruled over her motherland. Her hair as red as the flames that had eaten her alive. He had never had interest in love. Such a fleeting emotion, so useless and weak. But He had grown attached to the mother of His son.