I'm a Trust Fund Baby You Can Trust Me.

[I didn’t know if Luke would bring Kit along, but either works, really.]

The owl, when it had arrived, was a blast from the past if ever there was one.

Phaedra couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to an Avery but if she did, it wouldn’t have been the one whose curious request had drawn her out today. Katherine and Lucas- an odd combination, though why she couldn’t tell. Perhaps because it had always been Mesut who seemed charged with the care of their sickly sister, while Luke was off doing… Well, she didn’t know what. Not this, at any rate.

But it didn’t seem to her that she had much choice in the matter. The Averys had been friends of her parents, and even Maxine had respected them, which for the French witch was saying much. She couldn’t have refused Luke’s invitation even if she’d wanted to. But she hadn’t particularly wanted to. His was a familiar face she hadn’t actually been actively avoiding, perhaps because as far as she’d been able to gauge, he was just as much the outsider as she now was.

Strangely, applying that description to herself wasn’t nearly as bitter as she’d have expected it to be just a few weeks ago. It seemed isolation, like all other unpleasant things, was surprisingly easy to grow into when there was no viable alternative.

But this was no social call, the letter was clear enough about that. The sobriety of the situation meant it felt more like attending a funeral than a rendezvous with an old acquaintance- which she supposed was apt, if Katherine’s health was in that bad of a state.

That was callous, even for her.

The scathing internal commentary was in part due to her uncomfortable certainty as to why she’d been contacted in the first place. The missive hadn’t explicitly said as much, but there wasn’t much else people looked to Phaedra for help with. Ever the perfect picture of a prim society lady, she’d only ever had one talent that didn’t relate to standing around looking pretty- and she doubted the Averys were after her for that.

Which was why she’d chosen the neutral ground of Eli’s to conduct this meeting over their family manor. She was decent (and curious) enough to hear them out, but it would be easier to refuse away from their home turf. Because the instinct was still to push away what felt like an uncomfortably close reminder of the last time she’d lent her talents to healing.

But that still didn’t account for why she’d agreed to this in the first place, and why already she was trying to recall what little she did know about Katherine’s condition.

Usually she made sure to be fashionably late, but it looked like she’d be the one waiting this time. Though she didn’t like it, it didn’t do much to alter her mood. So many of those small changes had occurred recently that she faced this minuscule one with dissatisfied resignation, simply flagging down a waiter and ordering a drink. Ensconced at a corner table with a copy of the Prophet to occupy her time, she had a good enough vantage point that when footsteps finally approached, there was no excuse for the way she took her time folding the paper, setting it to the side and looking up, a smooth greeting on her lips.

“Good afternoon. I must say this is an entirely unexpected pleasure. I was beginning to think the hour might never arrive.”

It had, of course. Arrived and passed. But if she meant it to express anything other than anticipation, her tone certainly didn't reflect that. She smiled pleasantly.

"Please, have a seat. I've taken the liberty of ordering drinks, though I trust our business is more than just brunch. You're amenable to Gillywater, I hope?"