She had spent many reasonable seasons being choosy of the people in her company. She didn’t bond too much with her sisters, although she did not keep herself mysterious for them. Cerberus had been her first choice as her mother’s legacy daughter. The only one out of all of her children and the most like her out of those same children. That she had not given birth to a daughter herself meant she would likely find another to cover her, possibly she might turn to her half brother to make the choice for her.

But today she could forget the creation of her own legacy and instead she could simply respond to the call. A call from a man her mother had not spent overmuch time with. Romulus had been reportedly strong - even stronger than Apollo or Tyr, in her mother’s eye. Lysimache and Koiranos had been her favorite children, as well. She had no qualms about the favortism and she had spent the most time raising the youngest two of her brood.

Lysimache had, herself, very little to do with her father - but still, it wasn't surprising that she yearned for some kind of connection. "Father. It has been three years. I hope--" the platitudes about hoping for health or wellness stops in its tracks. His leg was wrong. Wrong, though not precisely more than swollen. She had seen the earlier sign of it in her mother before. It was not snapped and puncturing skin - but the swelling told her that the hairline fracture was still keeping him from any real kind of speed or movement.

Her ice blue eyes, so like her mothers, look up into his. "I am no healer...." Her voice, though, said that she knew what he’d likely come for. The same thing her mother had asked of her. Release from War, it was what her name meant. It was something she had been commanded by her mother for the sake of mercy… had he too come to think this of her for the sake of her name?