His apology softens the cold, frigid lines of her smile, if only a little. Hotaru is older, more forgiving, than she had once been. If he is aware of his own grandiosity and posturing, she will allow him to gracefully recover from it. "No need for apologies. It's understandable for all of us to be on edge in our own way." Just as her sharp tongue and dancing manipulations were her way of shielding herself and her family, his terseness and thirst for information were his. Different sides, same coin. "I'm sorry to hear you've been troubled," she says softly, if only because he has not proven himself a threat and in that way is deserving of her sympathy. "But I assure you, there's no pressure to make me feel welcomed. I have quite a way of insinuating myself stubbornly into whatever place I find myself in." A self-deprecating, but amused look is aimed his way at that. He likely could tell just from speaking to her a few short moments after all.
His apology is met with a tight, but appreciative nod. Her throat works at a hard swallow, and she turns her gaze away from him. "Thank you," she says stiffly, though no less grateful for his condolences. Retaining her regality, her composure, is something she has practiced for many years. The memories of her lost children, her murdered friends and family, will not break her visage so easily. It is almost a sad thing.
Though he assures firmly that he is of no threat, Hotaru still keeps her gaze upon him, silent and judgmental for a few long moments. "Words are merely sounds, not vows," she points out quietly. But she knows Kiada is safe with Amalia and Deimos, that the pair will stop this interloper if he decides to cause trouble. And Rexanna? She is more than capable of taking care of herself, especially with Bastien at her side. So she relents, reluctant but in need of whatever Loren can tell her about a cure. "Her name is Kiada. My niece, that is. And my sister Rexanna. All are from Helovia. Are you aware of any kind of cure or respite aside from these roses?" Because that is what matters to her more.
His apology is met with a tight, but appreciative nod. Her throat works at a hard swallow, and she turns her gaze away from him. "Thank you," she says stiffly, though no less grateful for his condolences. Retaining her regality, her composure, is something she has practiced for many years. The memories of her lost children, her murdered friends and family, will not break her visage so easily. It is almost a sad thing.
Though he assures firmly that he is of no threat, Hotaru still keeps her gaze upon him, silent and judgmental for a few long moments. "Words are merely sounds, not vows," she points out quietly. But she knows Kiada is safe with Amalia and Deimos, that the pair will stop this interloper if he decides to cause trouble. And Rexanna? She is more than capable of taking care of herself, especially with Bastien at her side. So she relents, reluctant but in need of whatever Loren can tell her about a cure. "Her name is Kiada. My niece, that is. And my sister Rexanna. All are from Helovia. Are you aware of any kind of cure or respite aside from these roses?" Because that is what matters to her more.
the horror you have seen is not who you are
