Kaniel let out a slow, measured breath of absolute boredom as his mother stared at him for so long he thought her eyes would burst, and she stood, no doubt ready to rain down whatever insults Queen Cunt thought would hurt him. The fact was, he stopped being hurt by them a long time ago. Always less than his siblings, always the weaker assassin. The fact was, he simply didn't care about proving himself anymore to a mother who never bothered to look. He could feel the eyes of the quaint little diner on the two of them, barely containing the urge to roll his eyes at his mother's display and incessant need to touch him in order to get her point across. "Had you killed me, it would have saved me the trouble of being your son. You would have done me a favor instead of punishing me like you're so insistent on doing with your endless prattle," Kane said coolly as he moved his gaze back to Sabina. Slowly, he stood to his full height. "However, if you wish for me to apologize for insolence," the assassin said quietly, gently taking his mother's hand in his before closing his hand around hers crushingly, "you came to the wrong fucking child." Kaniel summoned his dagger and, in one movement, lopped off the hand he had been holding from her wrist– like a hot knife gliding through butter. Nothing ever felt as exhilarating as dismembering someone who had bothered him or his Prince– and this... this was a long time coming. He flipped his mother's hand around in his, holding the bloodied nub before rearing back and slapping Sabina hard across the face with her own hand. "Now that... that felt therapeutic." Using the shock written on his mother's face, he shoved her severed hand into her mouth like a makeshift gag. "They call me the Butcher because I take great joy in cutting my enemies into little tiny pieces and feeding them to hellhounds." He plunged his dagger into her abdomen, slowly dragging it upwards; slicing through cartilage, sinew, and bone with expert precision– her blood flowing in rivulets over both of them. "You're not even worth feeding worms," he hissed as he cut through her sternum and reached her collarbone, then retracted his knife. "I hope you relive this moment every day for your worthless afterlife and remember that it was the runt that finally got tired of your bullshit." One slice and a crimson line bloomed on Sabina's throat, blood spraying from the wound as he sliced through her neck, her head barely hanging on by shreds of skin. One push of his finger, and she toppled to the ground with a loud crash. Kaniel took one deep inhale, settling back into his seat. He looked around the massacre of red that now stained the area around him and smiled; taking the cup he had placed to the side, he drank what remained, the faint taste of iron greeting his tongue. Finally. Peace and quiet.