She recognized me.
A fey lord, trapped in the world and going slowly insane as her powered ebbed from her, as the elemental chaos took her apart bit by bit, as she faded from existence, recognized me.
Father must have done a real number on her.
That she recognized me specifically is interesting in and of itself. Did father show her an image of me? Did they scry into our home, see me from that great distance? Did she travel with him, wait outside in the Witchwood as he visited us? Or did she merely—as if it were a mere thing—feel the kinship between my father and I, the shared blood and drive and will?
But what intrigues and frightens me most is that she held on to the memory of me, or of Father and I, even as the rest of her was torn away. After Father took her apart she managed to keep or regain that, the seed of a revenge she shall never have.
Did she deserve it?
Did father find her a vile creature, a mad lord to be dealt with, and took whatever means were necessary to hurt her? Or did he get so much out of the deal that he wronged her, sundered her from her power and took it for his own? That both things happened is sure, but why they happened and in what order is important; is my father still to be saved, or is he someone to fear?