USSR pt2

It seems like moments after I climbed through my window and into my bed, when the sun rose and my mother burst into my room. She yanked the blanket off me, proclaimed me a sleepyhead and blew out again.
I slid out of bed and shuffled over to my wardrobe, where my mother has graciously laid out clothing - brown trousers and a light cotton shirt.
My father's seat at our table was empty, probably having a 'working' breakfast with his Bishops, going over the nights losses and victories. The other empty seat my eyes avoided on instinct, focusing instead on my small bowl of porridge. Mother tried to alleviate the brown gooeyness by throwing in a few berries, but it was dreadful. I ate it anyway, because heaven know if there would be lunch.
"You'll be working with the Connelly's this morning. They're needing a bit of help with the planting what with Arthur out of sorts(This was Mother's way of saying 'recovering from near fatal injuries') then I want you to come back here at midday and we'll start on the dishes for Belle's trousseau."
"Alright, Mother." I took the empty bowl to the sink and cleaned it. "I'll see you later.' I went to the door, my tongue heavy with all the things I wanted to say, but wouldn't. I wanted to tell her about last night, about the serenity of the Night Garden, about the way the Felix girl, River, had approached me, the way that we had spoken all night. But then I would have to explain that I had been sneaking out every night for the past 6 months, how I had allowed the enemy close enough to touch, how I could even bare to look at her after what happened. So I kept my lips sealed as I opened the door, the rusty hinges near giving way to undue duress.
"Oh, and Prudence? The Bishops are coming for breakfast on Friday, so we'll have to make some tea cakes."
With what? The dirt from the path with grass for colour? I resisted the urge to comment and smiled.
"Of course, Mother. May you walk with her in your heart."
"And you, daughter."