Maybe his mother's words were meant to be cutting, scathing, but Wrath knew who he was all along. He was the monster that even the King, who held his reins so tightly it choked him, feared. A rabid beast that was molded to bite any and all hands near him that meant him harm. His own brothers feared him until they realized he actually had a heart underneath the rage and torment. It was so buried and brutalized that he didn't even recognize it. Wrath only found it once Celeste decided that he was enough for her– saw him as someone other than the mighty sword of Hell, and then he lost her. Wrath listened patiently as his mother spoke, subject to possibly the most conversation he had ever had with someone outside of the time Envy found out about Celeste. Talking wasn't his strong suit, and patience was even less than that, but if there was one thing he owed... it was that and more to his mother. "If there was one thing that he was good at, it was sewing enough discord within the brothers that we never looked where we should have. I never looked where I should have. I know now that I let you down just as I did everyone else for letting him reign so long," the newly crowned King sighed, his hand moving to grasp his nape lightly. Wrath didn't need to bother explaining that even if he did have some recollection, if he banded together with the twins and managed to find where his mother and sister were held, they probably wouldn't have gotten very far. It's why it took so long for them to overthrow their father in the first place– it was a cosmic alignment that even he couldn't deny. Witches, various demons, and the Princes all had to work together– something he didn't have centuries ago. His dark gaze lifted to Seraphina once again, shaking his head. "You didn't start out as a monster; you were made, but that doesn't mean that's all you are. I don't want to push you out of our lives. You deserve to come home, you and Hope, back to where you belong, but that won't work if we're at each other's throats." Wrath paused for a beat, his gaze never leaving her as he studied her. He knew malicious, he knew venom. His mother was just... hurt. Lashing out after centuries of the worst Hell, he saw himself in her after Celeste had died. His brothers thought he was upset over losing his kingdom when he was suffering from something way worse. He cleared his throat before speaking again softly, "I don't want to be him; I don't want to be a tyrant. Despite my namesake and how you may think it will be easy for me to slip into his likeness, I'm trying not to be. I won't vilify you for feeling the way you do, but if you do decide to come home, I'll give you everything you've lost. I'll make sure you're never forgotten again. It's the least I can do."