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i think she's caught between who she is and who she wants to be.
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Hermione gazed out from the narrow window of her bedchamber, contemplating the perilous drop that lay below. The thought of attempting to escape was a grim one, fraught with the likelihood of death or, at best, severe injury, leaving her nothing more than a pitiable wretch crying for help. As the days dragged on, the four walls of her chamber seemed to close in tighter, stifling her. Belva and Prisha had departed with her extended stay, leaving only Thalia and Mary to keep her company in her confinement.
True to his word, Robb had stationed five men outside her door, their vigilance unyielding night and day. Since she refused to break bread with "The Arse Lord of Winterfell," her meals were brought to her chamber only to be taken away uneaten. "You're not eating, Lady Hermione," Mary observed, her gaze heavy with unspoken concern. The two girls had managed to coax Hermione outside, a rare outing permitted only because Rickon and Leo had grown restless from her confinement. The day was bright and fair, with the sun shining warmly despite the chill in the breeze. Yet, the presence of the five hulking guards cast a shadow over every attempt at normalcy. Whether she wished to stroll the grounds or fetch a book from the library, they followed. Even in her most private moments—while bathing or using the chamber pot—she was never truly alone.
"Don't wander too far," Hermione called to Leo, who was reaching out towards the butterflies fluttering around him. "Have you heard from your sister, Mary? Winifred?"
"Yes, m'lady. I write to her almost daily. She's well," Mary replied, her tone hinting at the unspoken reality that Hermione already knew. Though she had scarcely spoken of her departure, the whole castle had overheard her and Robb's heated exchange atop the gate. Hermione's refusal to eat, driven by her anger, had only made her gaunt frame more evident.
"Well, let us hope you see her soon," Hermione said, her hollow eyes lingering on the two boys ahead.
Thalia's expression grew stern, her lips thinning into a disapproving line. "Hermione, you must eat!"
"Thalia—"
"No," Thalia cut her off, reaching past Mary to grasp Hermione's arm. "Mary might hold her tongue, but I will not. You need to set aside your quarrel with Robb. Both of you are too old to be acting like children."
