Phaedra was trying to pretend like everything was the same, but nothing was the same anymore. Everything had changed for them, hadn’t it? Whatever feelings Phaedra had towards gifteds was irrelevant in the presence of her beloved niece.

The duchess popped a bite of food in her mouth and chewed, her large smiling fading as her beautiful gaze filled with tears.

“Oh Flor…” her voice wavered as she said it and she set her fork on her plate loudly. A server moved forward to assist her, but she raised her hand to stop his approach. Her other hand covered her lips as she recovered. “I am so sorry you were hurt.” Her gaze flickered over the burns and the singed hair. Florina had tried her best to clean up, but she was an unhappy mess.

“How…how do you feel?”

At that innocent question Phaedra abandoned her chair and rushed towards her niece, seeking to collapse on the ground beside Florina and grasp her knees. The servants took their cue to leave the room.

“No, dear girl. I weep,” and she did, “thinking of this burdensome secret you have had to carry alone. It isn’t your fault.” To be born gifted was a condition. Florina surely knew of Phaedra’s eldest son’s state. He would collapse into seizures at least once a week, salivating and urinating, utterly lacking control of himself. It wasn’t something he could help, and they did their best to keep it a secret…but it wasn’t one he carried alone. Phaedra was beside him, helping him every step of the way.

“Nothing bad will come of it, I swear it in my life.” She stared up at Florina, passion in her watery gaze, a promise she would see through.

Phaedra held Florina tightly and they cried together. She realized that she wasn’t only crying for her niece. The circumstance had opened the floodgates, but the tears shed also became for the state of the kingdom and for Phaedra personally. There was much suffering in this world, and she wept for that. Only once their sobbing ebbed would Phaedra sit back onto her heels, dashing the tears from her cheeks with dainty swipes.

“Let us recover.” She suggested, smiling with embarrassment. “I believe you will be gaining great status in our kingdom in the coming weeks. You must accept the role with all strength and humility.” She seemed proud saying it, but also wary. She knew that Augustus intended to set her as the head of the gifteds, a role that could possibly make her a target.

Phaedra would take Florina’s hands, if she allowed, and together they would rise to their feet once more. Should Flor be agreeable to it, they would reclaim their seats, ignoring the servants as they quietly reentered the room.

“I suspect something along the lines of assuring the accuracy of the census.” The gifted census, that is. Phaedra raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Whatever it is, listen well, niece: take every advantage of your position. Speak sweet words to the king and queen when you have the opportunity. That same with my own husband. Be a friend to all,” her eyes gained a sharpness as she angled her head slightly, “but an ally to none. If you set your anchor with any one of them then you may find yourself sinking. There may be a time when you must choose a team, but for now you would do well to remain aloof of the political squabbles and simply do your job well.” She had t started eating yet, intent on relaying the information as she was.

Phaedra, over-chewing a grape, listened to what her niece had to say and nodded, taking it in. Men. They could be pigs, couldn't they? When her mouth was clear she took a sip of the milk from her cup and said in a slightly hushed tone,

"I'll have a dagger made for you. One that can be hidden in your clothing. Additionally, how about we use your uncle's reputation to find you a private guard? A woman." One of her brows rose and she smiled, loving the idea herself.