My mother was a strict person. She was a thoroughly trained Noble and the epitome of the perfect Noblewoman. I could hardly recall a moment of her compassion, until she was on her deathbed.
"...Arielle, I have not been a good mother to you," Mother said.
She had been struck by an incurable illness at the time and was made to be bedridden for what would be the rest of her life. The bed that she had slept in also inevitably became her coffin.
"Please, Mother has been nothing but good to me."
She touched my cheek with her frail hands.
"That is not true. I know you very well, Arielle. My dear Arielle...I had thought that giving you some tough love would give you room to grow. You did grow...at what cost?"
It was the first time I had ever heard of her speak to me so much before.
"Mother?
