He's back home, with my aunt. [And their butler, but Frederick is more than that, it's not really something she can put into words. A comforting presence in a different way to Lissa's smothering one; the one less likely to offer you words of comfort but will help you stand up again.] He has spoken of coming here, but... well, perhaps in summer.

[Even if it's rhetorical, she nods, finally lifting her hand from against the bark of the tree, fully turning to him now, both hands on the broom, leaning against it.] I always will. But it's a dull hurt, now. Perhaps not acceptance, yet... [Time mends a lot of wounds. Her mother was there to pick up the pieces when they lost her father. And for Olivia, she... it was an outcome that was slim, but possible. They had been prepared for it. Not that that made it any better, but letting go had already begun.]