An Undetermined Amount of Years Ago...
Isielle sniffed, wiping her face with her sleeve as she dodged pedestrians and carts through the streets of Underhill. Her mother's words still rang in her ears, and her cheek burned hot from an unexpected slap.
Her mother had never hit her before.
The Winter Court does not tolerate complete neglect of duty, Isielle! It's passion before duty, not passion instead of duty. You're the heir of this house, and it's time for you to behave as such. Queen Mab and the rest of the court--myself included--have been overly tolerant of you. Bring your chaos into rein.
To be honest, she didn't quite remember what she'd muttered in response to that. The shock of actually being slapped across the face had knocked the memory right out of her.
And then she'd run. Straight out the front door of the manor, into the streets that she'd never wandered alone.
Out. I just need out. Just for a while. Isielle sniffed again, eyeing the approaching gate out of Underhill. She just had no idea how to actually accomplish getting out.