"Mrs. Montrose, you have an amazing daughter." The Baroness smiles, poised, polished, weaponized.
"Thea is very smart, accurate, and brave. I applaud you for your success as a mother. You must be proud, as you should."
She gives Leila a slight bow, all elegance and fake grace.
Then she turns to Theo, lets out a gentle, sympathetic sigh.
"It is very unfortunate, what happened to you, my dear Young Thea."
Her head tilts, voice soft with a sharpened edge.
"Would you enlighten us, these old-fashioned women, on how your generation thinks?"
A pause.
"Please… tell us why you ran away, child?"
Leila pales.
The only question she's terrified to ask, yet has been dying to ask, is suddenly spoken aloud by a stranger.
In public.
Directed at her daughter.
Her daughter who has never, not once, spoken her mind like this at home, let alone in a battlefield of vipers like this.
Theo's performance at the press conference doesn't count in Leila's mind. Arthur was there.
