Belle pursed her lips, an imitation of her mother that anyone would notice if the two of them weren't locked into a battle of wills. "Of course Mother," she conceded, though had no intentions of doing such. Her tutor had always praised her handwriting and changing the grip would only impact her flow. It all seemed so strangely superficial that Belvina didn't even know how to argue against it. Creating with one's hands had to be better than having callouses because of it.

She didn't know what else to say on the matter if her mother was going to be insistent. Perhaps she ought to have a discussion with her piano instructor directly to see if she could find someone to teach her the harp instead of going through her mother. Honestly, it shouldn't be that big of a deal. Still, she needed her mother's permission. "Will I be able to learn the harp?" She finally asked, needed to know if it was possible or if she should temper her expectations (after huffing and puffing about it, of course).