Lady Mary
Mary didn’t like showing weakness, not with anyone– but at least Sybil understood to an extent, at least she knew her youngest sister wouldn’t lord this over her for weeks on end like Edith would. Arms stayed crossed over her chest as she continued staring out the window at Matthew’s receding form, and a heavy sigh left her lips. Only when she felt her sister’s hand at her shoulder did she blink and look away, shoulders drooping in defeat. “I feel as though much of it is my own fault– every time we talk about this… specific issue, I grow frustrated when I’m trying to get him to understand how important it is. And then it just… spirals.” Mary said, wondering if perhaps she should just drop the subject entirely with him– but she wasn’t one to let go of things so easily, not when a solution was so obvious to her.
It wasn’t until Mary drooped her shoulders that Sybil realized how much her eldest sister had carried through the years. Mary had made it seem so easy--- the way she took on a room full of people with poise and unparalleled collection. Not once did Sybil ever see her shoulders waiver until now, and the sight was more telling than any words could ever be. Listening with quiet concern, she kept her hand upon Mary’s shoulder, offering a soft squeeze in attempt at reassurance. “You’re passionate and firm in your beliefs,” Sybil answered. “Surely you can’t fault yourself for that. I wouldn’t--- and I suspect Matthew wouldn’t, either.” She paused, dropping her hand and tilting her head to meet her sister’s gaze. “Mary, whatever this argument is about--- it can’t spiral forever. If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you always find a way out of the storm.”
