Makaria blushed when he kissed her hand and then tried to think of a good answer to what he'd asked.
"Mostly I looked after them," she said, taking another sip of her wine because he was. "Listened to their war stories." Mostly Makaria's experiences in her life had been of being on the outside and looking in. The heroes (along with her family) were the only people she associated with, and it had been lonely sometimes. Sometimes they would talk in hushed tones about women, but the conversations always stopped when Makaria entered the room.
But she knew, very well, that she was on that island to stop what had happened to Persephone from happening to her.
"To heroes," she agreed, and then took another drink to avoid the bad luck. "I bet you've known all of them."