It was, Blythe thought but did not say, little to no consolation at all. Surely even if her aunt's words were true, there was someone who at least wished to try, who was more deserving (and better-suited) to the role than Blythe herself?

She could tell, though, by the look upon her aunt's face that there was little reasoning with the woman. Instead, she cast her own gaze once more to her hands, an excuse brewing in the back of her mind but failing to come to fruition.