It's because you're weak, Siena, a voice said in her head. You've made yourself weak.
Maybe it was true; maybe she had indeed made herself weak. And still she asked herself how they could do this to her. She was responsible for this. What was she doing hiding out here when important things were happening to her family; to her father's legacy which she apparently will not be a part of now?
Who was she kidding, hiding out here and complaining all the way from her exile fortress.
Siena fumed the whole day and the next, her mood only worsening as the days went by. Apparently, she would run out of ceramics and glass cutleries before she ran out of patience. Her ceramic plates and her glasses got the brunt of her anger.
On the third day after her discovery, Siena called her uncle.
Her voice
