C156 The Tableware Broke.

She hung her head low, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. The intensity of her grip suggested that her nails might have dug into her palms. Her hair, hanging down, shielded her face so completely that her expression was obscured. It was unclear whether she had been persuaded or remained defiant.

Violet Hunt suspected it was the latter, but it hardly mattered now.

Without dwelling on it