“No,” she answered and raised her other hand. Both hands wiped her daughter's cheeks clean of any tears and smoothed her hair back away from her face. “It doesn't upset me.” Styx tried to smile, but she was so sad. It pained her a great deal to have to relive so much of it now with Nike. “It does make it difficult to look at your face and not see his, though.” Her voice was quieter and she stroked through her daughter's hair again.
“I loved your father very much. To a point that I feel hollow without him.” Styx started to withdraw her hands. “He did not want this and we argued about it up until the end.” The end. The bitter end. The part of the war when Styx turned completely away from Pallas and betrayed him, ensuring the end of her husband's life. The point where he was stripped of flesh and turned into a title to be assimilated by the bastard daughter of Zeus.
Styx sighed deeply. “But, had I taken any other course... had I taken the side your father wanted us to, there is a chance that you four would be without both of us now.” Or worse still. But she would not speak those words.