FULL NAME: Mira Afet Selwyn
AGE: 27
BIRTH DATE: 13th of July
BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood
AFFILIATION: Order (Under cover Death Eater)
GENDER/PRONOUNS: Female, She/Her
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
OCCUPATION: Healer at St. Mungos
WAND: 9”, Blackthorn wood, dragon core
PATRONUS: Black Mamba
BOGGART: Her own dead body
POSITIVE TRAITS: Clever, Ambitious, and Charismatic
NEGATIVE TRAITS: Vain, Ruthless, and Guarded
MBTI: ISTJ
Mira was born the second child of three to her parents in Anatalya, Turkey. She was nine years old when the family decided to make the move to London where her father could further his career with the Ministry. While she was happy for her parents, it had been difficult for Mira to say goodbye to a city she had loved so much. It was difficult for her to transition to such a gloomy new home, while she dreamed of the beautiful blue waters, beaches, and mountains that had been her childhood.
Growing up Mira was always the quiet one, head in a book more often than not and found studying for no reason other than she could. She quickly took interest in her mother’s healing as well, wanting to learn all her secrets and how she could do it herself. When she was accepted to Hogwarts it was no surprise when she was announced as a Ravenclaw, a perfect place for the girl who loved to study and learn. She continued to flourish while there, educating herself and spending more time in the library than anywhere else.
Some may have considered her to be far too serious, more often than not it was because her thoughts were elsewhere. She was more the type to sit quietly, observing those around her and taking in everything. It was rare to catch her laughing or having fun with friends, those moments were usually reserved for her siblings. Mira isn’t the greatest at making friends, it takes a lot to get her to open up to others and she trusts very few. Though those that she does consider friends and allies, she is incredibly protective of. Those that don’t know her claim you’re more likely to receive an annoyed look and a snide comment from her. While those that know her would claim to know that softer side that on occasion does come out.
When school ended she followed her mothers footsteps and became a healer at St. Mungos. She quickly picked up on the job and excelled at everything she was taught. Soon after school she found herself in the company of Death Eaters, including her brother, and it wasn’t long before she was one herself. While she doesn’t bear the mark, she is a loyal follower and found herself becoming the healer for the other Death Eaters. Once the Dark Lord and others came to trust her, it was decided that she would be a spy sent to infiltrate the Order. It came easier than she had expected, a fortuitous run in with an Order Member at St. Mungos and well placed words and she found herself brought into the fold.
She currently finds herself in a precarious position, as she has led the Order to believe that she is infiltrating the Death Eaters for them. It has become a balance of feeding the Death Eaters information regarding the Order, and feeding the Order just enough correct but unimportant information along with various lies and falsities to keep the balance. She knows it’s risky, but she likes knowing that she is a valuable asset. Mira is clever and knows when to be softer, more charming to keep the role and keep herself out of trouble.
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The breakroom was a happy reprieve from the rush of the hospital, grateful to have more healers on the floor to relieve himself for at least an hour. Beck knew he needed a break when his bedside manner was becoming more temperamental. At least he still kept some humanity in a job that could easily steal it away from him. "It won't stop until everything else stops," he says conversationally, his tone lethargic. Beck knew that none of the patients deserved it and maybe what he was doing was a working contradiction. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. "Talking helps," he said. "Otherwise I'd fall asleep with my eyes open." Beck appreciated Mira's company as always, them both had a lot in common and he was still grateful that they went to the wedding together. "But how are you? Outside of here? How do you deal with it all? I feel like it's hard not to carry it home some days."
Mira knew that soon enough she would have to take leave from the hospital. Already the long hours were getting to her, her body hurt more than normal, she was constantly exhausted. No doubt a combination of pregnancy and the emotional turmoil that kept her awake most nights. She sighed, running fingers back through her hair even as she shook her head. "I fear it won't ever stop at this rate...even when it's taking so much." A weak laugh as he mentioned falling asleep and she nodded. "Fair enough, though I've had my fair share of naps in here as loathe as I am to admit it." She took a small drink of tea, setting her mug aside once more. "Truthfully?" Mira shook her head and turned to look at him. "Not well, I carry it home more often than I wish to. I'm doing my best but it's heavy....I never feel as though I'm doing enough. And you?"
Since Mira’s confession, Alara had been drawn even closer to her sister. The thought of becoming an aunt filled her with joy, though she knew there were still plenty of wounds they’d need to face together. No matter what, family was something she could never walk away from.
Now that Mira had settled into her new place, both of them carrying the weight of exile, it had become almost second nature for Alara to be there whenever she wasn’t with friends or working at the bakery.
“Do you want something to drink?” she called out, sending the food floating gently into the living room.
Mira sat curled on the couch with her legs under her, watching her sister moving about the kitchen. There was a fond smile on her lips even as she shook her head. "You know I'm perfectly capable of being up and moving right Lara?" She teased. "I'm not that pregnant yet." There were not enough words to express how grateful she had come to be for Alara. Even with a broken heart, when it at all felt wrong and it became too much, her sister had been there. She didn't deserve it, but she was grateful for it all the same. She picked up a treacle tart and took a bite, sighing happily at the taste. "You know at this rate the little one may be born liking you more than me. All these delicious treats..."
where: a quiet cafe in muggle london
who: @miraxselwyn
She sat at a corner table, the afternoon sun spilling across the polished wood. She smoothed the napkin on her lap and glanced toward the door, heart skipping slightly at the thought of seeing Mira again after so long. The witch stood as the door opened, a warm, tentative smile on her face, arms open in genuine affection. “I’m so glad you could come,” she said softly, her eyes searching her sister-in-law’s for any hint of what had been troubling her, before settling on the small bump in her stomach. “Oh Merlin, Mira...." She mumbled, letting a gasp escape her lips.
Mira had debated the meeting, the entire morning a war with herself on whether or not this was a good idea. But it was Agatha, she'd been like a sister for a long time. She had to believe that it would be okay, that there would be no judgement. She also had to accept the fact that Agatha may want nothing to do with her after today, that this could be a goodbye. She wore a dress that did little to cover the growing curve of her stomach as she stepped into the cafe. Her warm smile wavering at the expression on Agatha's face. "Hi Agatha..." She said softly. "It's good to see you...it's been a while." As if that wasn't stating the obvious.
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Outside the door the waves could be heard crashing onto the shore, wind blowing quietly. Fall was approached faster and faster each day and even the sea knew what couldn't be avoided. It was a season of joy and merriment, with celebrations all around and cold drinks being replaced with warmer alternatives. Even that very moment a kettle was hovering above the fire, charmed to stay in place as water was set to boil. A box of tea on the table, the little cottage appeared cozy and yet looked run down from the outside. It was possibly one of the lesser known places. Who'd look toward an old shack that lacked any any all substance to function.
"How have things been?" It was a question extended out of kindness. It wasn't hard to surmise that the last few months had been rough. So many secrets to be kept and all around chaos happening. Each step taken had come at a cost, one Hestia wasn't willing to pretend was not something to loom over each new step taken. Still, this was meant to be a check-up, to assure all was well. "This place is always going to be here should you need it." A safe place, away from the unpredictability.
Mira turned about the small space, studying her surroundings quietly. It was charming, quiet and out of the way enough that she knew she'd have nothing to worry about here. A fresh start, she thought to herself as she put a hand to the swell of her stomach. Yes, she could be happy here. Or as happy as she could be when it felt like she was missing a vital piece of herself. She settled into one of the armchairs, motioning for Hestia to join her in one of the others.
She was grateful for the woman. Everyone had been far more kind to her than she deserved after all she'd done. A weak laugh as the witch asked how she was, considering how to respond before she answered. "We're surviving...doing the best I can." She said softly, her eyes going to Hestia as she smiled softly. She was doing her best but she was exhausted. "I appreciate it...truly you have no idea."
“I find it pays to have adaptive tastes. Besides—” his gaze swept the stalls, the music, the swarming press of students and villagers, “—I’ve always enjoyed watching people. They reveal more of themselves in a crowd than they ever would in a drawing room. A twitch, a laugh too loud, the way they hold their hands when they think no one is looking.” He did not elaborate what exactly it was he enjoyed about such revelations, but the faint curl of his lips suggested it was amusement of a private sort.
When his eyes returned to her, they lingered a moment too long on the swell beneath her dress before lifting to her face. “And you…” His tone carried a dry amusement. “It seems you’ve been flourishing among the rabble. Though I would not have wagered on finding you here, of all places. You were always more careful about where you stood.” There was no accusation in his words, but something sharpened beneath them, the faint suggestion of a question he had not asked: what had brought her out, and why now?
A soft laugh fell from her lips and she nodded, trying to relax as she took in the crowd around them. It was hard not to warm at the sight of so many looking happy and enjoying themselves. It lightened her heart, one that lately had felt all too heavy with everything. "I suppose if it's people watching you're after then you've chosen the right day for it." She agreed. "Seen anything of interest yet?" She shifted as a child went rushing past with some unidentifiable sticky treat between their fingers.
She turned her attention back to Antonin, stiffening as she felt his eyes boring into her stomach. Without thought her hand went to the swell, her face giving nothing away. "I don't know if I would consider it flourishing." She mused. She'd been careful as she'd stepped back from the death eaters, revealing very little as she'd disappeared into her work and little else. Her head tilted, arching an eyebrow as she considered his words before she shrugged. "I needed to get out of the house, fresh air and well I've never been one to turn down some delicious treats. I don't believe it's good for anyone to work and stay cooped up all the time."
One of the reasons he chose to train as a healer was to help those who needed it. As the war progressed, it was like he hadn't seen a good day in awhile. Not that this line of work could have a good day, but it had been a few days since a patient smiled or said thank you. Usually, they weren't able to say anything so he didn't take offense. Beck thought the Ministry should use more allowances to stop the war, as it was a vicious cycle that was seen in the hospital. Beck stared down at his third cup of dark coffee that day, deciding for something stronger than the usual tea. Mira's voice brought him back to the surface, and he glanced over at her, happy to share the break with someone else. It was good for him to get out of the routine, especially with someone who understood it. "Seems that way," he agreed tiredly, raking a hand through his hair. "We're seeing the worst of it, though. Not just on this floor, in this building...anywhere. It's hard to see the positives of all of this."
Mira made her way over to one of the chairs and sank into it with a grateful groan. She was exhausted, and as the months grew so did her stomach and the pain from carrying the baby. Her ankles constantly felt swollen and she was grateful for even a brief reprieve to sit down. She sipped her tea, running her free hand back through her hair as she tried to embrace the momentary break. She'd always appreciate Beck, neither of them felt the need to force conversation and she'd forever be grateful that he'd gone as her date to her brother's wedding. "Yea..it is." She breathed softly, shaking her head. "I just...have a hard time believing the costs, the lives are worth it." She admitted in a quiet voice, her eyes on the tea she cradled in one hand, the other one her stomach. After a moment a weak laugh fell from her lips. "Here you are trying to enjoy your break and I come in being so morose."
After spending two months in Ashford, Kent with his parents, the hustle of Hogsmeade during the end of summer fayre felt exceptionally difficult. Numerous times, Anthony found himself standing to the side to let others by. Walking around in a quiet daze as he examined items in stalls, and dodged excited children preparing for the upcoming school year at Hogwarts. Anthony was yet to inform anyone of his return to London, basking in the solitude for a moment before the chaos returned. It was unnatural for Anthony to refuse company, he was somebody who thrived around others, finding comfort in company.
But in the weeks after Anthony and Mira's split, he found it impossible to find comfort from his family, and friends. Anthony longed for Mira, irregardless of the betrayal. Trying to drown out his emotions, his grief, with late nights and spending far too many nights in Rosmerta's pub. Self-destruction hadn't erased Mira from his heart, nor had the solitude in Kent. Irregardless of everything, Anthony missed Mira. Anthony loved Mira. Weeks had been spent mulling over their argument, analysing every single word, every action, everything that he regretted saying. Perhaps Anthony had been too hasty, too quick to assume, to discredit everything. But he was hurt.
His eyes were too focused on the window of a shop, deep in his thoughts. When a familiar silhouette passed behind him in the reflection. Eyes catching the back of her, the soft curl in her hair. Turning on a heel, his eyes watched as the crowd began to close around her. If only they could talk, but it had been months without communication. Anthony could only assume Mira had moved on. His last words had been harsh, cutting, a nail in the coffin. It was understandable that Mira hadn't reached out, Anthony hadn't either. Anthony's eyes scanned the crowd, keeping an eye on Mira as she walked towards an ice-cream cart. Thoughts racing as he thought of multiple ways to approach her, how to open a conversation. Thoughts that froze as Anthony caught a glimpse at Mira's frame. Mira was pregnant.
Feet froze in the ground, his heart began to beat in his chest frantically. Mira was pregnant with his baby. Only spurred out of his panic by a man bashing his shoulder against him. Anthony could only mumble a quick apology. Steps taking him towards Mira instinctively, she didn't notice him standing in front of her as Mira muttered to her bump about the ice-cream. "Little one?" His voice a mere croak. "You're pregnant?"
Mira had missed Anthony more than she could have even predicted, another reminder of how much she'd truly fallen for him. It seemed as though he had disappeared and whether he was merely avoiding her or had truly gone somewhere else, she couldn't blame him. Still it had left her feeling empty, bereft even as she reminded herself that she deserved it. She'd lied for so long, made so many bad decisions when she could have stopped it at any time. She'd wanted to reach out, tell him about the pregnancy and tell him she'd missed him. But it felt cruel, she didn't want to force communication if he wanted nothing to do with her. Nor did she want him to feel obligated to be with her because of the pregnancy.
The months hadn't been easy, nor had the pregnancy. She'd dealt with terrible morning sickness on top of a broken heart. Still she'd pushed through, playing her part and doing whatever necessary to keep going. She told herself that the busier she kept, the easier it was. The loneliness not sinking in until the evenings when she was home alone. She was punishing herself, and though others might have worried over it, told her to let it go. She hadn't been able to. Though she tried for the little one growing inside her. The baby deserved to know nothing but love.
It felt good to be out, to be around others even while she felt on edge. She was content as she sat on the bench, a fond expression on her face as the baby seemed to grow more active in her stomach with the introduction of the ice cream. Then a familiar voice. And though she was sitting she suddenly felt as if she were falling from quite high, her stomach sinking. She looked up, cursing inwardly for the tears that sprang to her eyes as she saw him, taking in every little detail. God how she'd missed him. "Anthony..." Her own voice choked.
What could she say? There was no hiding the truth, not that she would want to. Without thought, her hands went to her stomach, ice cream forgotten. "I..." At a loss for words, unable to look away from him as panic seized her. "I wanted to tell you...but I wasn't sure.." Her words fell off as she scrambled for what to say to him. "I didn't want you to feel obligated." A poor excuse.
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In some ways Mira had found that her life had changed since she'd gone to the Order. In big ways it certainly had. And yet, in small ways it felt much the same as it always had. The loneliness for instance, felt much the same as it had before. She continued to keep to herself, trying to find a new routine, to find where she fit. It had got to a point where she'd no longer been able to keep up the ruse with the Death Eaters. The Order agreed it was time for her to be pulled from spying and for her to move. Her stomach had played a large part, no longer able to hide the pregnancy from anyone. Yet only Alara knew who the father was, others had long ago given up trying to draw that information from her. The heartbreak continued to be a constant ache in her chest, even knowing she carried Anthony's child.
Her life had become limited, her time spent either at the hospital or with the Order. She'd debated even going to the fayre, telling herself it would be best to stay home. But she'd been out so little, and there was a small hope that perhaps with such a busy event, very few would pay attention to her. Which is how she'd found herself moving through the crowded streets, unable to help the smile on her lips in such a cheery atmosphere. The dress she wore did little to hide the baby bump, but she tried to reassure herself that no one was staring. Even when it felt as though all eyes were on her.
Spotting a cart of butter beer ice cream, she couldn't help herself as she stopped to get some before finding a bench to settle on. Even as she ate she surveyed her surroundings. She couldn't help but to watch the children as they chased each other around, giggling and playing games. Feeling a kick, she put a hand to her stomach and smiled softly. "Finally a food you approve of then little one?" She spoke to her stomach, her voice quiet yet fond.
Mira was pretty sure everything hurt, unable to decipher if her feet or her back was screaming in protest more. Thank Merlin that she'd been given a break, relieved as she headed to the break room. She pushed her dark hair back out of her face as she fought a yawn. Even in her robes there was no missing the bump that she was no longer able to hide, though most at the hospital had been aware for some time now. She paused as she stepped into the break room and saw Beck, smiling softly, even as she went to make herself some tea. "It's never ending anymore, isn't it?" She didn't even turn to look at him as she prepared her tea, shaking her head. "It's beginning to feel like no matter how much we do, it isn't enough."
Antonin had never seen Hogsmeade quite so alive. Stalls crowded the cobbled streets, lanterns bobbed overhead despite the daylight, and laughter spilled from every corner as villagers and students alike flocked to the Fayre. The air was rich with sugar and spice. Honeydukes had outdone themselves and the faint echo of a fiddle carried over the crowd.
He wove through it all with his usual air of detachment, dark eyes flicking from fire-breather to card-trick charlatan, studying people as much as the performances. Merriment was never his strong suit, though he could appreciate the structure of the event the way every stand had its place, the way excitement kept people moving like pieces on a chessboard.
For now, he lingered near a game stall where enchanted darts hovered in a neat line, waiting for challengers to test their aim at shifting, glittering targets. The crowd pressed close, children cheering, but Antonin stood just far enough back, hands clasped loosely behind him.
A quiet observer, or perhaps, depending on who approached him, something else entirely.
Mira had debated whether or not it was wise for her to even go to the fayre. Since she'd been pulled back from the Death Eaters, moved to a safe house, she'd been much like a recluse. She continued to work at St. Mungos and helped the Order in whatever ways she could, but had otherwise remained in her new home. It was agreed it was the safest that she really didn't go anywhere alone, it wasn't worth the risk. However the fayre seemed as though it would be safe enough, Hogsmeade would be bustling and surely no one would be foolish enough to come after her there.
The moment she arrived she began to wonder if it was a mistake. It felt as though everyone were watching her, or staring at the bump that was the pregnancy she could no longer conceal. She'd worn a loose dress, but even still it was futile these days. She tried to enjoy herself, stopping for a sweet treat that would please both her and the little one growing in her stomach. She wandered, smiling as she watched children rush past giggling as they chased each other.
She placed a hand to her stomach without thought, head lifting to study her surroundings and the booths. She stopped as her eyes landed on a familiar face, one she had not in fact seen in months. For a moment she considered turning and moving the other way. But he'd already seen her, and here out in the open surrounded by others, surely she was safe. "Antonin." She greeted. "I never took something like this to be to your taste."
This wasn’t like Mira. She was always the one in control, calm, sharp, emotionally unreadable. Logic came first. That was Mira. Alara had always been the emotional one, the softer one, the heart in a family that didn’t leave much room for feeling.
"You kept..." The words caught in her throat. She didn’t finish. Alara watched her sister carefully now, everything inside her churning. Each word Mira spoke made something twist tighter in her gut, like invisible knots pulling against each other. And slowly, with every piece Mira shared, Alara felt her heart drop. It was like the last bits of denial were being stripped away.
That tight feeling in her chest twisted, the kind that came with realizing something you'd always feared might actually be true. Deep down, maybe Alara had known there was some kind of connection, how could there not be, with the beliefs their parents had raised them on? But she’d hoped, really hoped, that Emir and Mira would never be part of it. But this? A spy. In the Order. Pretending to be one of them.
Her mind flashed to her friends. The ones whose blood wasn’t pure enough, whose families had suffered, who were forced to live in fear. The people she loved. The damage the Death Eaters had caused. The thought of Mira tangled in that web, even as a spy, hurt.
“You’re what…?” she breathed out, trying to keep up with the revelation. “You’re, in the Order?” And then, just when she thought she couldn’t take in anything else. “You’re pregnant?” Her eyes widened. “Wait. Anthony?” Her eyes darted to her sister’s belly. “You, pregnant.” For a second, she didn’t know what to feel. Her thoughts were racing, and the weight of it all pressed down on her like a wave about to crash.
But when she looked at Mira again, really looked, she didn’t see a Death Eater, or a traitor, or even the sister she once knew. She saw someone exhausted. Someone afraid. Someone who had been holding too much for too long. Without a second thought, Alara leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her sister, tight. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t care what’s happened, we’re family. We’ll get through it. Together.”
Mira knew once she started speaking that she'd be unable to stop until it was all out on the table. Much as the way it had been with Anthony when she'd told him the truth about it all. For so long she'd kept everything to herself, emotions at bay, so many secrets that threatened to drown her. To finally tell others brought a small relief, though it also brought more pain. The fear that by revealing who she'd been, the terrible choices she'd make, that they'd want nothing more to do with her. And she'd be unable to blame any of them, it was what she deserved.
She couldn't look at Alara as she spoke, afraid of what she might see in her eyes if she did. She just needed to get everything out, to let her know the truth and then face whatever consequences came from it. She couldn't help the tears that fell unbidden, her hand going unconsciously to her stomach. As if she could protect the little one growing inside from the chaos that had become Mira's life.
Finally, once it was all out, her eyes returned to her sister as she watched her try to catch up with everything she'd just said. She knew it was a lot, overwhelming seemed like an understatement. Mira hadn't realized she'd needed the hug until Alara had wrapped her arms around her. She let herself cry then, sobs falling from her lips as she clung to her like a lifeline. "I'm sorry..for all of it. For our family, for all we've kept from you, from everything I've done. I'm so sorry Alara..."
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"Right, a shared passion," he echoed her with amusement. "I have a feeling my parents would've approved of your parents." To Mira's point, Beck couldn't imagine dating someone who worked with him or was a healer in any capacity. That's where he found the better relationships to grow, thinking about Estelle and how their paths were different yet marked together. "Then I'm glad that this is purely a fun night otherwise, I would have to face him though he did intimidate me and I don't envy who gets his actual speech." Beck was having a better time than he thought he would, surrounded by the grandeur of society again. "Please excuse me, I'm going to get some air before they bring out more canapés."
Mira laughed softly and shook her head. "I'm not sure whether that's a good thing." It was likely for the best that both sets of parents weren't around to pressure them into more. She had her heart set on someone, even if he could never forgive her, never love her, she wasn't sure she had room in her heart for anyone else. "I don't envy them either. I fear he may actually scare them off." She admitted with a small smile. The truth of the matter was he likely would never meet him, and it was a little too late for some grand speech. She nodded and stood, setting her glass aside. "I suppose I should make the rounds and say hello before my parents corner me for being rude. I'll find you later." She smiled thankfully at him before slipping away.
He returned her smile with mirrored cordiality. They were both accustomed to playing polite games. It amused him to think that they could have married. His parents' faces had been a picture of exquisite horror, the day he'd told them precisely why he'd never touch Mira Selwyn. If he hadn't been so wrathful and outraged, he would have found it hilarious. But it had all worked out, albeit in an order that was not ideal. He was grateful to Mira for keeping their secret. He had trusted her absolutely.
"Yes, and they interact with each other already. It's very entertaining. We are quite certain they're plotting against us." Taking a hefty gulp, he faintly laughed. His eyes had not left Mira. He had spoken sincerely, so his attention was intently focussed. It was ironic that he didn't think twice about the discarded alcohol. The hand at her stomach, however, he did observe. While she spoke, he studied her more closely. She had been his healer for years. He knew her well. Her eyes were dark with barely concealed exhaustion - not uncommon for any of them, these days. But there was a hint of emotional fragility, a little redness, perhaps some puffiness. "Duty or not, I have never been so thankful." They were strong words, coming from him. He did not like to wear his heart on his sleeve. As cold as he was, he cherished his children in his own way - with unfaltering devotion and resolute protection. They would grow knowing they were valued and safe. "Longbottom told me his wife is expecting. How tragic it would be if something were to befall her, in the way it befell Alecto."
Revenge was necessary. It was correct to instate justice. How and when remained to be decided. He was in no rush, content to bide his time and await a suitable method and opportunity. But it would happen, sooner or later.
Already the evening had grown exhausting for Mira. It felt as though she were walking on eggshells, and she felt like a farce in front of her family and those she'd always considered friends and allies. She was happy for her brother and Agatha, this had been a long time coming after all. But it was hard to be happy when it felt like her whole world was crumbling down around her. It was taking everything in her not to cry, to maintain a smile and continue as though everything were normal.
A soft laugh fell from her lips as he informed her they were plotting. "Somehow that doesn't sound unreasonable when it's yours and Alecto's children we are talking about. Parents with strong personalities, of course they would follow in your footsteps." It was hard to discuss children when she was keeping the secrecy of her own. When she didn't know what her future looked like, or the future of her child. It was a heavy knot in her throat that threatened to choke her. She was brought back from her own thoughts at his words and she smiled softly. "I'm glad everything worked out and that everyone is healthy." Not only for Alecto and the babies, but she had no doubt that had anything worse happened that Rabastan would have gone on a rampage the likes of which had never been seen before.
She hid a flinch behind a cough as he mentioned Frank and his wife, doing her best to keep her expression neutral even as her stomach clenched sickeningly at the thought. She would have to warn them to be careful. "Yes, how unfortunate that would be indeed." She turned to grab a water from a passing waiter, taking a much needed drink as she tried to pull herself together.
