The growing frustration pressed like a weight inside Ariel's heart, and she rubbed her chest as though to soothe the restless ache. A heavy sigh escaped her lips when her thoughts circled back to Morpheus, and she dragged her hand over her forehead as if she could erase the image of his smile that intruded again, unbidden and unwanted.
"I don't love him," she muttered, her voice thick with tension, "and I do pity him, but that doesn't mean I'll allow him to continue what he's been doing. Someone has to stop him— and if it's you, Bella, then I'll give you my fullest support."
Arabella, catching the turmoil shadowing her sister's eyes, felt a tug of sympathy stir within her. That complex storm of pain, anger, and pity written on Ariel's face softened her heart, and she reached for her sister's hand, squeezing it gently as the two walked together toward Ariel's chambers.
"Why do you feel that he can't distinguish emotions?" Arabella asked quietly.
