Gagging, she took the foul-tasting cloth from her mouth, and dropped it to the floor. Her fumbling hands told her there was no way to open the door from the inside. She stamped her foot and called out in a shrill little voice that the woman would be sorry for daring to lay hands on her in such a manner, but no one replied. She hammered on the rough inside of the door with her hands until her wrists ached, and she slumped to the stone floor, angry at herself for the sobs that she was choking back. Princesses did not cry. Nurse had been very strict about that. Excess emotion was unbecoming in young ladies, and unforgivable in royalty. What nurse would think about her behaviour this morning didn't bear thinking about. She gave a whimper. Her stomach hurt and her head felt funny. She wished she had some food. She'd give anything to have her breakfast in front of her right now. Even cold porridge seemed appealing, although given the way she was feeling now, her manners might not be all that nurse would wish of a princess.