Rose did her best to keep her expression neutral as she watched her mother. Her mother was seated on the bed with the covers over her legs, a coat made out of sheep wool on her shoulders and her back against the wall. She was barely holding herself up as she sat but stubbornly refused to lie on her back.
Things had been quiet in the house since her father's conversation about her going back to the castle at some point, but it was more because of her mother's deteriorating condition. Her illness was getting even worse. The older woman spoke little, ate even less, and only managed the faintest of smiles.
Rose was spending even more time by her mother's side, barely leaving her alone even for a moment, while her father spent less time outside. None of them spoke about her waning condition, but it was a dark cloud that hung over them.
