She set her flute aside as the music continued and got more intricate. “Yeah, this isn’t working for you. You need some kind of concussion healer.”
“It’s my power,” she explained as the music went on in the background. “Sound manipulation.”
“They have no self control!” She stood and paced the room. “Mom and Dad don’t even know. Seeing him in prison—or worse—will destroy them.” She pressed her fists to her closed eyes. “And I’m stuck here playing some stupid game! I don’t even want to be queen!”