"You think that's my fault?" she bites, flinching at the sharp snap of the jewelry box lid. It's more defense than anything, natural, instinctive. She's young, never trained, not at all prepared to have taken up the crown she now wears.

....Excuses, really, but she feels justified enough in them, even with the guilt crushing her for it. He has a point, but...

"At least I'm trying." For all she knew, he had avoided all of it for ages.

She turns her face away, flushed and irritated and furious and heartbroken with the overall situation and sits on the edge of the bed- their bed, regardless of wherever he decides to sleep.