Seol refuses to allow the tears to fall. Like a pendulum she switches between guilt and frustration. The bitterness is similar, be it sorrow or fury. She is left gnawing at a growing emptiness, thinking, if this was what she expected to gain through all the lies and deceit.
"Haven't you got what you wanted - mamanim?"
He made it sound as if she had trapped him, her lies forming a vice that he could no longer free himself of. The entitled brat playing her ultimate card. Seol shakes her head to get rid of that particular thought, it's acidic to think of herself in such a manner.
Princess residence within the imperial palace is desolate. No one has expected her to turn up before the winter is through. Seol drags herself through the unadorned passageways, her mind elsewhere, her conscience heavy. She is glad that no retinue waits at the doors, ready to do as she beckons. It's easier this way.
