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Listening to Beatrix's words, Mia waited with bated breath for dislike to harden within her, for bitterness to precipitate into hard pebbles. Was that not the way jealousy emulsified? But contrarily, she felt misgivings dissolve. Beatrix declaring herself as the least trustworthy person solidified her impression of candour, of frank truths both gentle and scathing. Mia might not yet believe she would take a bullet for another, but she hadn't proven herself a liar yet. With a thoughtful look across the table, Mia felt the corner of her lips turn up in consideration. [color=6ecff6]"I think I might like you."[/color]

But then Mia watched as words flew across the table, accentuating tension and discomfort around the table. And then Beatrix spoke of love eternal and love lost, of monsters and villains, and Mia felt her perception of the woman shift wildly. As she left the cafe, Mia leaned down next to Solenne's ear, concern furrowing at her brow. Beatrix had mentioned a rogue, and even if Mia did not know what it meant or had her doubts of the safety of such a mission, she knew enough to link that Solenne had been approached for help with the rogue, and suspended her curiosity to ask, [color=6ecff6]"Should you go after her?"[/color]

And then Dan asked for a cake, and Mia nodded, smile slipping back in place. The man did so love his fairy tales, and his optimism could be rivalled by no other. She did not think she would ever bear to frown at him, not when the illusion had been so abruptly shattered. [color=6ecff6]"Of course."[/color] Leaving briefly to pack it away, she returned to place the plastic bag weighed down by the boxed cake in Dan's hand. [color=6ecff6]"Twenty eighty, Dan,"[/color] she said, feeling the flippancy of such a mundane phrase undercutting the day's happenings.