"I left you alive," Queen Anette corrected, steel in her eyes as she finally met her daughter's indignant gaze. "Better to be powerless and miserable than a head on a pike, or god forbid, sold to a brothel."
Daphne's lips pressed into a thin line. Her mother wasn't wrong, but she wasn't entirely right either.
"Mother, if you knew I wasn't entirely powerless… then why didn't you say anything? Do anything? If you didn't want to tell me as a child, why didn't you tell me when I grew up?" Daphne demanded, the weight of all the insults and ill-treatment she endured as a youth rising to the surface.
Her voice became a plaintive cry for help, and tears formed in her eyes. She quickly scrubbed them away with her hands.
"Why did you let me continue living, believing I was useless?" Daphne continued, upset. It was a fate worse than death. "Why didn't you speak up for me? Why did you ignore me all these years?"
