"My dad's more of a talker than a doer." He motioned toward his father. "If you couldn't tell already."

" Trust me, I could. "

"He couldn't do much without his army or his advisors." He began to absentmindedly create a sculpture out of glass.

" My mother does almost everything with consulting her advisors or using her army. It's quite funny, but dangerous. "

He nodded. "I wonder how well they are holding up in there."

" Probably not that well. "

Almon focused on the looking glass so he could see through it but not his father. His father had gone back to staring daggers at Briar and trash talking.

And she was equally doing the same thing.

Almon rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers again. *So we are here about the feud, what do you think about it.*

" I honestly think it's a bit stupid. "