Heaped upon her cushions, holding back sobbing torrents of rage and shame, the Princess silently watched her mother get dressed.
Mother finished preening her every minutia in the mirror and returned her gaze once more to the Princess. The Matriarch was still visibly angry, but not as terrible as before. Had Mother not spoken then, Princess would have suspected herself altogether forgotten.
"Will you be good?" asked Mother, rhetorically. She had no faith in communication at this point, but she underestimated just how well the Princess really did understand- how intensely her resentment and shame still lingered.
Mother hurriedly left.
It was still early morning.
Princess had all day to amuse herself in that woman's house.