"It's not fair!" Lysandra shrieked, tearing at her hair as she paced across her mother's quarters.
"Life," Merla said sagely, "rarely is."
"You'd think that destroying everything Doom had would be enough to satisfy those bastards." the princess snarled. "But noooo… it doesn't matter to them that people born after the war ended are starving to death in the streets. It doesn't matter to them that thanks to their bombs we can't grow our own crops anymore. It doesn't matter to them that most of the population is too young to work, by their own laws!" She picked up a goblet and threw it across the room. It shattered against the wall, the crystal sparkling like ice as it fell.
Merla watched all this calmly. She knew her daughter would feel better after venting her frustration.
"Why do I have to be punished for something I didn't do?" the girl asked, her voice low and filled with tears she refused to shed.