“Oh, we all know why,” Philip mimicked, sneering expressly at Miranda. His arms were folded, his foot tapping restlessly, his whole body a coil held back from being sprung. We, she said, like she was even one of them. Here she was, speaking like she knew best, knew everything; she was their father’s little pet even now.
“You poor, poor things,” he continued, his gaze sliding from Mira to Robin to roll his eyes at them both in turn. “How could you ever disappoint daddy like that?” His tone was mocking, but in all honesty he couldn’t fathom the answer. Mira had always been special, and Robin had always been boring. The perfect pawns to begin with. They had expected better, had they? But if they had learned anything from this, it was that their father was a madman, so standing around parsing his reasons was a grand old waste of time.
“You poor, poor things,” he continued, his gaze sliding from Mira to Robin to roll his eyes at them both in turn. “How could you ever disappoint daddy like that?” His tone was mocking, but in all honesty he couldn’t fathom the answer. Mira had always been special, and Robin had always been boring. The perfect pawns to begin with. They had expected better, had they? But if they had learned anything from this, it was that their father was a madman, so standing around parsing his reasons was a grand old waste of time.
