Three Kinds of Love - φιλία

Once she received the permission from Siren to enter, Aliana nudged the bedroom door open and slipped inside. The room was quiet yet smelled heavily of the new puppies, a bright and wonderful smell of which there was nothing quite like it. Siren looked significantly better, having healed almost entirely from the traumatic birth of her two children, and still as regal as ever. She noticed the lady rising to her paws, and she gently urged the tiny woman to rest while she had a moment free from her children. "Oh, you don't need to rise on my occasion, my lady," she reassured her queen, dipping her head in a respectful bow to the ruler of the island. "I have your supplement ready for you. How have you been feeling? Have the herbs been helping any?" That was Aliana: all business all the time. It was a trait one developed after a lifetime of indentured servitude. Slaves weren't meant for social calls, after all. They worked until they slept, and when they woke, the cycle repeated. Even though she had been freed, Ali was still struggling to break her mind out of its chains.

Making her way over to where Siren sat, though notably slower thanks to the swell of her belly and the general fatigue that plagued her body. Even though she was only a quarter of the way through her pregnancy, the puppies in her womb were growing at an astonishing rate. Clearly they were taking after their father in that regard, not to mention Ali didn't know exactly how many she had growing inside her. She gathered up a small bowl and filled it with water, then slipped the vial on the string off of her neck and removed the stopper with her teeth. She poured the supplement into the water and passed the bowl to Siren, allowing the lady to drink while she rested on her laurels, using one dainty paw to carefully support her rotund belly while she got comfortable.

"How have Albion and Scylla been? I'm sure you're grateful for the break." She had no doubt the children were well taken care of. Siren was made to be a mother. She was kind, loving, nurturing, patient, with the means to provide her offspring with everything in the world... An ideal parent. While she made small talk, Aliana gazed around the room, observing the way Siren and Dalila had furnished it. It felt warm, welcoming, homey. It was a stark contrast to hers, which felt more functional than fashionable. Perhaps another testament to her slave mindset. Or perhaps alluding to some deeper insecurity in her brain.

"Aliana"