Cailina didn't let go of her mother's shoulder. Her nails slowly pierced the delicate skin of her mother.
She ignored the painful expression of her mother as she locked gazes with her, she needed to know who was that impostor.
Mocking her father's face with a dreadful body could not be excused of death.
Silence responded to her question as her mother trembled in fear. There was no longer a sign of nobility and refinement on her mother's action. She appeared to be more of a frightened common lady.
If her mother has still the fire of the Duchess of Grandis, she would have long gone slapped Cailina for being too forward. But no, her mother was lessened to this kind of woman who wailed her late husband's name all night.
A heave of sigh and Cailina stepped back. It was no use to force her mother to say anything. It was as if she was talking to a child. How much damage could one person have to let themselves degrade into a mentality of a young one?
