Severely re-edited!
Inna woke in her bed, silken sheets tucked around her and pillows placed generously behind her aching head. She turned with a small moan to see her mother sitting beside her, under dimmed light. She smiled, but worry was unmistakable.
"My God, Inna! Are-are you alright, oh my goodness," She gasped, smoothing down her daughter's hair with a lacquered hand. "Was it the wine, dear? Oh my goodness, what happened?"
"I-I don't know, I..." She trailed off, and felt heat rushing to her cheeks, cold sweat breaking across her skin.
"What is it, darling?"
"The w-wine, yes. I'm sorry, I never drink and-"
"No, no! Don't apologize, I understand, really," Ingrid assured her, "I'm just glad that you're okay. Do you hurt? To faint on that marble, well..." Inna nodded and gave a small smile.
"I'm alright, really. I hope that I didn't ruin your party."
"Don't even think it, Inna. We all understand. I'm sure they weren't passing around bottles at the convent."
Inna didn't blame her mother for not understanding how deeply her words had wounded.
"But I do think that you should go to your appointment tomorrow. I won't make you, Inna." She took her small hand and held it tightly, protectively. "I'm simply worried. Life here is...very new to you. It'll take some time to adjust and take it all in. Maybe some day soon, you'll...tell me why you left Saint Appian's."
Because of him.
Inna looked away, holding back a scream.
Because of him, because of the man with pins in his head, because of the box-
"I'm very tired, I-I need to sleep," She whispered, and the hand left her.
"Alright, darling. Okay. You rest."
And a moment later, she wept alone.