IV.
She was rarely allowed near her own child. It was heart-breaking; if she could only see her daughter she could be such a good mother.
She dreamed of cradling the baby to her breast. How she longed to suckle her and sing the lullabies of her own mother. She would rock her to sleep, and lay her in her beautiful cradle and watch over her before smothering her until her death rattle filled the silence of the nursery. If only her mother had been so good to her.
But her husband knew her dreams, and so she was kept away.