Antigone shook her head like she could shake up the world, like it'd all settle in a pattern she understood when the shaking stopped. "No," she said to Asterion and "Yes," she said to Bia and then "I don't know... Yes, she and Ares are..."
Asterion had bought them drinks and Antigone didn't care what it was, she groped for the glass and knocked it back. The Scotch hit hard, but it was a fresh pain, and a purifying one, successfully burning off thoughts of her hand and her muse.
For the moment.
Face still recovering from the alcohol, Antigone looked up at Bia, at the confusion on hers. She grimaced an apology. "I need to go and talk to her, I think," she said, then "Thank you," to Asterion. "But I'll be... fine."