Proserpine lay on a bed, staring angrily at a cave ceiling.
"Why in the name of Tartarus did I not listen to my mother? Now look where I am."
She stood and walked to the large wall mirror next to the closet. She glared at her reflection; long, swaying, deep brown hair, emerald eyes, a slight tan, full, pink lips, long, lush eyelashes, and faint eyebrows. Proserpine peeked into the closet. Dresses, all varying colors, all filmy, but she was not going to touch a single one.
Pluto, king of the Underworld, had brought her here. He had provided her with a very comfortable bed, many beautiful dresses, and a dresser full of makeup, shoes, and jewelry. But she still considered herself a prisoner.
A plate of sugar cookies lay on the dresser. She refused to touch them. Proserpine wasn't going to eat until she was aboveground. But she was famished. She ignored her squelching stomach and sat back down on the bed.
She remembered the first time she had disobeyed her mother. Her mother had told her not to eat the bread straight out of the fire. But she had anyways. She burned her hands, tongue, and mouth. She ran crying to her mother, who just sighed, and asked if she had learned her lesson.
Proserpine thought she meant the lesson of not eating something as soon as it was done cooking. But now she thought that she meant 'had she learned the lesson of disobeying her mother'. Apparently, she hadn't, since she was sitting on a bed, in a cave, in the Underworld.
She sighed "If I ever- no, not if, when, WHEN I get out of this, I am never going to disobey my mother again."
She stood. She might as well explore while she was here. It would give her something to do. And a chance to figure out how to escape.