Arya looked at Tyra strangely. Something was wrong. Tyra wasn't the kind of person to talk back to her.
"You are the queen. With so many people at your disposal. But who is right here with you? It's me." Tyra said it as though it were something she was supposed to be proud of.
"I kneeled outside for two hours, crying and pleading to see my dear mother. I... wanted to see how you were coping here with my own eyes." The condescending tone she had used sent the queen over the edge, and her blood boiled.
"HOW DARE YOU—"
The queen was about to land another slap across Tyra's face again, but she was taken by surprise when Tyra grabbed her hand, and the next thing she felt was a harsh slap on her face that had her shouting in pain and sending her falling to the floor in shock.
The queen sat on the floor in disbelief and looked up at Tyra as she felt her burning cheek with her hand.
She had just been slapped.
