Pavel looks into the room, where Phaedra sits slumped against the door, arms crossed, pouting.
She speaks to no one.
Phaedra: I hope you're entertained by all of this.
A voice comes from nowhere.
Cheth: Oh, VERY.
She continues, unmoving. The rest of the room remains empty.
Phaedra: So... this boy was a fluffy little acolyte in disguise, meant to torture me? It's creative. I'll give you that much.
Cheth: A proud as it'd make me, he's no acolyte of mine. But he still managed to break down a few of your walls, didn't he? I've learned some WONDERFUL things about you today, Philemon <3
Phaedra gets to her feet. Her clothes begin to shift around her, out of her casual wear and into the same formal dress as before. She pulls her hair out of its ponytail with a tug, and looks angrily out into space.
Phaedra: THAT'S ENOUGH! I will not be embarrassed like this on my own ship. You dare curse me twice over?! First to half-death, now to be... what? Your BABYSITTER?
