She hadn't specified which brother, and Victor didn't know which to assume. It wasn't as though anything needed to be done — unless she had been planning to go back to her parents' home, but she'd already said she had no intention of doing that. His death was hardly their responsibility; it was barely even hers. She was probably looking for comfort, then, and it was understandable (if a little disappointing) that she would think to seek it out in her natal family rather than in him. Particularly when the very sight of him was a reminder of everything she was grieving.

"I assume word will get around soon enough," he allowed with a frown. "It was a rather... public spectacle."

By design, of course. Victor had chosen the staging ground for his 'death,' though now that he and Christabel were alone he did wish he could have spared her the ordeal of having to be there when everyone else saw the corpse for the first time; of having so many witnesses to her grief.

---

  

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Fabulous set by Lady!

The silence left her momentarily alone with her thoughts. She couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought that her husband was dead, and that what should have been the time of her life when she was learning to negotiate her life as a married woman, to find her place in this new family. She would now be finding her way as a widow. It was too much, and the thought made her exhausted.

She took a deep breath, trying to push away the feelings of grief and confusion. She knew she needed to be strong, for herself and for her family - both Daphnel and Dempsey. But it was hard to know where to start. She looked around the room, at the somber translucent faces of her husband, and felt a sense of responsibility wash over her. This was her home now, and she needed to make sure that everyone was taken care of.

She reached to take his hand again, but stopped herself, already getting used to the impulse. 'Come on, lets go down together and start to face this' she said trying to manage a smile, but it was tight and fraught.

  

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I am my mother's savage daughter, The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones

I am my mother's savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice
MJ made glory