The lack of a response unnerved her a bit. Why was she so bad at dealing with children? She hadn't ever had problems with her siblings — but they had all died a long time ago, and she had been a child herself, then. After that, she hadn't had much occasion to interact with anyone younger than her, really. She'd met Nova's step-daughter a few times, but those sort conversations had been just as awkward as this, until someone interrupted and rushed the girl back to the nursery.

What if Ophelia wasn't meant to be a mother? What if she lacked some sort of natural instinct that allowed women to know how to talk to small children? What if her body knew that, and that's why she hadn't become pregnant yet? Her own mother had had many children, but it had ultimately been her downfall. She never would have been committed, or killed herself, if she hadn't felt so strongly responsible for Octavian's well-being. Maybe that was part of the reason Ophelia wasn't sure she could be a good mother — maybe part of it was self-defense.

The boy thanked her, and Ophelia forced a smile she wasn't sure she felt. "You're welcome. I... I hope we can make you happy here, Nathaniel."