Pavel chews on a mouthful of scone, as Phaedra continues to wax poetic.

Phaedra (offscreen): The world would be so different if she were still here...

Pavel takes another bite, looking up above the bookcase.

Pavel: Are you related to Shoshana?

Phaedra looks up toward the nook where the small statue of Shoshana sits. She stands serenely, holding a single hand up, and resting the other on her trident. 

Pavel: You look a lot like her. Like... a LOT a lot like her.

Phaedra looks back to Pavel, who suddenly stops chewing.

He raises his hands awkwardly, and speaks with scone bits still in his mouth.

Pavel: Oh gods, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say... I...

Phaedra waves his worry away, smiling.

Phaedra: No, it's fine! I get that a lot.

She dangles three fingers in front of her face, simulating her bangs.

Phaedra: I just style my hair like hers... The ol' upside-down trident.

She takes one of the strands of her hair, curling it around her finger. She looks off to one side, thoughtful.

Phaedra: I'm not related to her. No mortal is. But it'd have been an honor.