Trying not to let her attention follow Gia’s hand too intently (because it was one thing to watch a lady’s face and another entirely to risk accusations involving her neckline), Daphina drew invisible circles on a corner of the table. “Some also have no soul and send their servants out to purchase a selection of gifts so that they may choose which they believe suits me better,” she pointed out with a degree of humour. “I’ve always considered that more of a gift to them than myself.” Such men, she imagined, would replace the entirety of their wife’s wardrobe with clothes that had passed their approval -- had possibly been chosen by them -- and likely micromanaged everything down to her bath salts. “Your phoenix can be bought from no merchant.” How did others think that nothing? A lack of permanence did not make it lesser, surely. Would it not be the other way around?
Daphina’s chins rested on the back on her her fingers, that elbow upon the table while the other hand continued to doodle invisible squiggles and swirls on the wood. It bothered her that she had just now realised it was far easier to watch Gia while seated like this. “If you enjoy making things then I shall never refuse; it would be rude of me.” The glint in her eye rather ruined the image of a lady who was actually concerned about her manners, but since she could not see her own eyes and that was not her main concern, it did not feature in Daphina’s thoughts. “I believe I would.” She gave a faintly amused smile and raised her chin from her fingers to touch an earring. “You did prove sand to be worth more than pearls.” Well it was true. Somewhere in her mind she swung a kick at the not-so-quiet voice that told her what her parents thought of such sentimentality, but they were not around for their opinions to be counted. Nor was she full sure their opinions truly did count in this.