Of course, she was. Psyche was, just in general, cute as a button. She sighed and relaxed against the pillows as she ran her fingers over his, liking the feel of his masculine digits.
"Do you think she'll have wings?" Psyche, herself, didn't have actual wings she carried every day, no matter what the artists liked to think. But she could shape shift into a butterfly if she wanted, but she didn't think that would transfer over to her daughter.