CRASH.
A delicate porcelain vase shattered against the marble hearth, sending white and gold shards flying like shrapnel across the plush silk carpet.
"I HATE HER!" Marien screamed, her voice breaking into a hoarse, jagged screech that echoed off the high ceilings.
She grabbed a velvet pillow from the chaise lounge and began to rip at it with her perfectly manicured nails, tearing the fabric until white goose feathers exploded into the air, swirling around the room like a mockery of a Northern blizzard. Her hair, which was usually a golden halo of perfection, was tangled and damp with sweat and tears. Her face was blotchy, her eyes bloodshot with a rage that bordered on the feral.
"She did this!" Marien shrieked, snatching a silver-backed hairbrush from her vanity and hurling it at the tall mirror.
