Phaedra, under Cheth's control, is made to twirl a lock of her hair. She looks horrified and confused.
Cheth: Oh! Forgive me - these veins of mine tend to wander... But look! They've already left a few marks - what an honor for you! Seeing an enemy wear my bands is always a treat.
He leans closer to her, and she leans away.
Cheth: How about we find out whether they get to stay? Allow me to ask the first question of the evening. With luck, it'll be the only one we need.
Cheth releases Phaedra and conjures a vision before her eyes - a multitude of ruined warships with tattered sails, sinking below into his red light. The silhouettes of hundreds of soldiers fall with them down to the murky depths. Cheth rises amongst them, raising a single finger and flashing his teeth. Phaedra looks up as he speaks.
Cheth: At December's end, I watched your father's forces claim another decisive naval victory — but only after sending hundreds of soldiers down here to die. As future Queen-Admiral, I'm sure you know the exact number of troop casualties. But what about more... far-reaching damage? My question is this.
Phaedra looks up in horror, as a small girl with pigtails appears behind her. She carries a teddy bear and looks forlorn, but her eyes are red and her arms are emblazoned with Cheth's tattoos. He makes her speak through tears.
Cheth (little girl): How many of your nation's children lost a parent that day?