Styx brought her hand up to her forehead. Complications sprung up by the second, and her daughter was not on her side. It was not a pleasant reality, that. It made Styx angry. It made her... something else. She'd never been good with it. Her hand came away from her forehead.
She listened to Bia, silent as ice, and when she was done with her tirade, she stared at the step she was standing on. Things were moving far too quickly. There was something Styx could say. Something that she could say to make this better. But Bia.... Bia couldn't hear it. Not through the anger, and not through the disdain Styx easily parsed from her daughter's tone and demeanor. It was hopeless to try. And Styx had fought too many battles recently to wish to be embroiled in another one.
"Akheron doesn't make the whole of your family. Neither does Moros. Neither does Phlegethon. And even Akheron now understands that what he'd tried to do was not what he should have done. Akheron loves you, Bia. I know he does. He won't try to hurt you or hurt me again. Only just today, he apologized for the things he'd done to me.
"I won't tell you who to love. And you already know who to put first. But Bia, unless you want me to help you, I don't have anything else to say."
She paused, not quite willing to leave her daughter in anger. Not quite willing to leave her daughter unless her daughter wanted her to stay. And not quite willing to leave her daughter even if she said she wanted Styx to go -- because sometimes children needed their mother even when they didn't know it. She tried. For Bia, she tried. Tried to keep the anger away from what she was doing, what she was saying.
Because family really was paramount. It always had been. It always would be.