Liv was bracing to be yelled at as everyone gathered around to... comfort her? Wait, what?

They weren't mad at her for speaking in a language they didn't understand, that wasn't commonly accepted in this country? And then for so shamefully losing all composure? Had she still been in Lusitania, interacting with other nobles of this caliber, her father would have had her publicly dismissed from dinner and then locked her in her room for a week with no company. There was a reason Lusitanian noblewomen were typically only taught Latin and Greek, that reason being so that they couldn't go and royally mess up in social situations that involved important people- cause important people always spoke English, when doing important things.

She still couldn't bear to look up at the others, listening silently as the various words of encouragement settled around her head. Niklas told her to believe in her own ability and intelligence, of course. What little she'd seen of him indicated that he'd be an eternal optimist who would offer eternally optimistic advice. It was a nice idea, of course, but not one she could ever live up to, not really. But the words did bring some comfort.

Fareeha's words nearly made Liv burst into giggles- she could just see the feisty princess dancing up to some gruff military type and punching him hard in the gut. Of course, the visual was somewhat helped by the fact that the tallest military person Liv had ever met would have, in his raised dress boots, matched a bare-footed Fareeha for height - yes, most Lusitanians were really that short. At the comment about punching Niklas, the girl couldn't help it, and folded over herself in quiet, strangled giggles. 

All of her etiquette instructors would have had a fit- the lesson had been drilled into her head so many times. "Ladies never strike, and they sure as Fate don't strike first or they may as well book an appointment with Mercury." A confused eight-year-old Liv had once asked, "what about self-defense?" And she'd been given a death glare and told that if she shut her mouth and didn't stray from her husband, she'd never need to defend herself cause he would defend her, instead! She'd nearly asked how they expected her future husband, who was at that point barely able to shuffle along using a cane, to be able to defend himself, let alone her- but then she wisely took the hint about shutting up and bit her tongue and said nothing.

After a few moments of that, she straightened up at a gentle touch on her shoulder and under her chin, to peer into the warm eyes of Mai- wait, actually warm? If there was one thing Liv had noticed about the princess it was that her expressions very rarely reached her eyes, though at least right now they seemed sincere enough. She blushed brightly- or at least as brightly as an anemic girl can blush- at the compliment on her eye color, and mumbled her thanks in (thankfully) the right language. At the story the older girl told Liv couldn't help but giggle a bit more. Of course, only because she empathized. Since Liv was seven or eight she'd been made to try to wear heels, and absurdly high ones, at that, despite the longstanding traditions of flat footwear. Before every gathering there would be a congregation of maids marching into her room with a pair of strappy stilettos- and they would be quickly sent back out by Liv threatening to call her doctor, who at least had the sense to realize that anemia equals constant dizziness and being off-balance and dizziness, and being off-balance and dizzy in tall already-unbalanced shoes would be a recipe for disaster. Of course, then she had to put up with being a full eight inches shorter than even the smallest of the other noble girls her age. 

Liv squinted for a moment, finally managing to focus her eyes on the object that Mai was holding up for her to inspect. A tube of mascara. The girl reached up and ran her finger along her lower eyelashes, wincing at the black runoff as she examined the finger. Of course, now her makeup was smeared too. She murmured, "Thank you very much, Mai." and leaned a bit closer, unfocusing her eyes so that she wouldn't spastically blink as the older girl applied the mascara.

Vaguely, Liv wondered what they must think of her- though she supposed that no matter how she sliced it, they must see her as weak. She wondered what the files about her said- she assumed there had to be files as it seemed as though everyone knew everyone else's life history, except for her. She cursed her parent's insistence that she not have access to the internet, on the grounds that it might spoil her traditional upbringing. She supposed they were right, though for the moment she was left feeling like even more of an outsider due to her ignorance.

In any case, she wondered what her files said. More than likely they would include a bit about her lack of public appearance- maybe, if they were detailed, the accompanying bout of muteness and lack of piano playing - that lasted for three years. If they didn't take into account her culture, and she was sure they wouldn't, it would seem as though she really was a useless crybaby. They wouldn't see that her people equate silence with strength. That while she was grieving she was expected to make a scene and act out, and her sudden acquiescence to the absolute control demanded of someone of her station was taken as a sign of maturity and growth, not of weakness, part of what factored into the decision to send her to Aciras in the first place- which in turn, once it was finalized and the arrangement was made, sparked the return of her voice, her passion for piano, and all of her other small "rebellious" traits. 

The girl realized that she had become lost in thought, though thankfully just for a moment. She let go of her locket that she'd been subconsciously holding and glanced up at Mai, who was putting the mascara away, and then more shyly at Niklas and Fareeha who were still kneeling beside her. "Thank you all for the kind words... and I am sorry for my, well, outburst. In Lusitania people are somewhat less forgiving than they are here and I was convinced that I must have offended someone."