Freya was quite glad that Zevulun had offered to escort her and Baldr to the border of the Inlet. Not that she wasn't capable herself; no, she could make this journey with her eyes closed, she was sure. But the company was always welcome - she would never say no to some time spent with a new friend. The former queen was expecting nothing more than a pleasant stroll. So when Zevulun spoke, his voice dropping suggestively, she was caught a bit... off-guard.

Something akin to embarrassment flushed across Freya's skin in a subtle warmth, blue eyes meeting one another as she leveled her gaze at him. She was not oblivious to the way he postured himself, the arch of his neck or the pep in his gait. She had seen it before in the crossing, and the bald-faced woman would be hard pressed to say it wasn't a sight to admire.

"Well, it didn't seem relevant to our situation at the time." She retorted smoothly, the corners of her lips quirking up into a hint of a smirk. There was a gentle gleam in her eyes as she peered over at her pale companion. Besides, it wasn't like that was information she just offered freely - not like anyone would care, anyways. It had been many years since her reign over Tinuvel had ended, and the inhabitants of the Islands had likely forgotten her name by now.

Freya glanced over her shoulder to make sure Baldr was sticking close by, before turning her attention back to Zevulun again. If she had known, all those months ago, that he was a resident of her beloved island, perhaps things would have turned out differently for them - for her son. Baldr would have been lucky to have a father like Zevulun, who was clearly kind-hearted and dedicated to his family. It pained Freya to know her son would grow up without a father, all because of her poor choices. She had always valued family, and although she knew she had a family in the Forest, a part of her had hoped to give Baldr the life his siblings had had. Alas, it was too late to wonder about that now, and there was no use dwelling on "what ifs?"