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Had she not been so busy wallowing some in her own self-pity, she would have wondered why she had been put in a place so close to other members. Her tantrums had been many since she had realized the exact extent of the damage that had been done to her, and no one could want to live with such a crazed, hysterical beast. These last days had been quieter. Perhaps it meant acceptance, but there was no way to her to find peace in this broken vessel. She had thrown the majority of nearby items in reach of her healthy arm anyway.
The Triarii had never paid attention to the quiet sound of his footsteps, but now they roared in her ears after the brief hum of an opening door. Ears swivelled to the sting of his voice. There were so many options—so many reactions she could choose. She had stated to oppose him, silently and subtly, since the very day he was crowned Aquila for the clan. But now there was a new sound to the masculine voice, so different to what she was accustomed to receive. It took her by surprise, but her facial expression did not stray from the monotone emptiness that echoed of her forced misery.
Closed lips visibly tensed, but she said nothing.
Your faith walks on broken glass
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