Sawtooth Spire i'm ephemera, see my 'use by' date

Wylla was, in fact, awake, albeit well-versed at remaining perfectly still with her eyes shut and her breath hardly stirring. How could she not be? Mahler had seen himself out to assist in whelping his contracted bastards, leaving her to tend to two children and an orphan, all of whom were likely to be upset by his conspicuous absence. If she could halt her breath and pretend to be wholly and truly dead, she would've, if only to spare herself the trouble of a tantrum-throwing threesome.
Mama! peeped Phaedra, nearly breaking Wylla's carefully crafted illusion when her eyelids twitched in response. Mama! her daughter insisted, accompanied by the sensation of eyes boring directly into her skull. Knowing that there was no peace to be had now even in pretending, and determined not to let her frustration and anger about the present Sagtannet situation known to her cubs, Wylla slowly cracked one eye open, peered blearily at her talkative child, and muttered, what?