The Silver-Haired Beauty

"Very well," Atticus said easily, rolling his shoulders. "Sirona, you heard Princess Cordelia. We'll get straight to business then. Where's your uncle?" 

"Hopefully not in his cups," Cordelia grumbled quietly, but not quietly enough that Daphne couldn't hear her. In a louder voice, she continued, "He's in his office. I'll escort you there. Daphne, do you want to come along, or do you wish to rest in your rooms with your…" her voice trailed off as she considered Zephyr, a grown man with wings who was gawking at the painted ceiling like a child brought to a fish market, "friend?"

Good thing she caught herself in time. Cordelia had nearly let the word 'pet' slip from her lips. If it weren't for the practice she had over the last few times interacting with Daphne in person, she might've just spoken her mind and let everything loose.