Holding her hands behind her back, the Princess looked down at the floor at the sharp words. Idun tried her hardest to keep an annoyed scowl off her face, and sound as contrite as possible when she spoke. Even if the Queen’s words felt unfair, that tone of voice could still make her stomach flip and her heart pound.

   "Yes, Mother, sorry, Mother,“ she replied softly, wondering just when she would get to spend quality time with her father again–it had been so long, and her sister and brother no longer cared to spend time with her. She was too young for her, and too old for him. And with her little brother came the issue of him not wanting to play with girls anyway.

   Turning on her heel, she tried to decide what to do with herself, alone. She could do some more stitching, but she did that all the time. A book may hold her attention for a little while, but her lessons that morning had practically melted her brain. Her bedroom would be boring. Perhaps she could go sketching in the hills. It wasn’t like anyone would miss her.