"God help all of the governesses when that happens," Ophelia muses, though considering the age in which they live currently, she doubts that sort of profession remains. "Or nannies or whatever they're called these days."
She ought to be bitter that Flavia kept this from her; kept this secret the way she's held onto Harriet's appearance her whole life. But Ophelia finds herself too drained by the day, especially happening upon this painting. She might save her ire for another occasion, but for the moment, she settles for honesty, instead.
"I don't really have any ground to stand on, do I? With all of the stuff I've kept from you over the years," she says, her tone neutral. Part of her wishes she could be angry in this moment; the rest of her is basking in the brief peace they've found between them.
no subject
She ought to be bitter that Flavia kept this from her; kept this secret the way she's held onto Harriet's appearance her whole life. But Ophelia finds herself too drained by the day, especially happening upon this painting. She might save her ire for another occasion, but for the moment, she settles for honesty, instead.
"I don't really have any ground to stand on, do I? With all of the stuff I've kept from you over the years," she says, her tone neutral. Part of her wishes she could be angry in this moment; the rest of her is basking in the brief peace they've found between them.