"...stupid Zoemi – I will make him brush my hair until his arms will fall off...!"
Miriette was grumbling to herself staring at her spiky-haired reflection and occasionally glancing towards the wide opened window.
She really wanted to go check up on the black-haired boy, but she promised him that she will wait in her room – and the dark-haired girl would rather die than break the promise given to her beloved.
So she had to satisfy herself in listening in to the sounds coming from the outside – the sound of the whip's cracking through the air was unnerving, but at the same time, it was counting down to the time when this whole farce will be over and Zoemi would return to her side.
"...what if something went wrong...?"
Miriette flinched and looked towards the window with worry.
"...he said that he will be acting wounded, that probably will be exhausting..."
She murmured to herself glancing at her reflection and picking up a brush on her own.