One of the Jewels of the Empire was awakened by Mòrag Ledair when she was six years old and grieving for her deceased father. Brighid was unfamiliar with children, but she took to learning about her role as an Imperial Blade like a sponge to water. It of course extended into caring for her Driver who was heir to the Empire seeing as how there were no sons in the family.

It was unfortunate, however, that the young girl did not entirely understand that Brighid had none of her memories from when she was her father's Blade. There were only two people who were around and capable of telling her more of herself and of Lady Mòrag, independent from the tales written in her journal. One of them was her Lady's regent and very busy. Certainly not someone who Brighid would want to bother with such frivolities. While the other Jewel of the Empire, Aegaeon, was often busy as per his Driver's station, he was not nearly so far out of Brighid's reach.

"You often took care of Lady Mòrag in His Majesty's stead," Aegaeon explained patiently to her when she spoke to him, his hands held professionally behind his back. When Brighid had knocked on his room's door and he'd permitted her to enter, he'd been examining a sizable collection of dolls that were a truly horrifying sight to behold. It was unfortunate that they seemed to be the only things decorating his sparse room. The flag adorned with the Ardanian crest simply did not count since it was expected of the both of them. Being Blades, the two of them could not dream, but Brighid was quite familiar with the concept of nightmares after Lady Mòrag had woken numerous times during the night from them. She understood the principle of them, and imagined that Aegaeon's disturbing hobby would no doubt worsen them.

"Since she does not have a mother, and nursemaids are distant, it's not difficult to understand her distress," Aegaeon continued, either ignoring or simply not noticing Brighid's odd looks toward his shelves, and tilted his head to the side a bit. "I'm sure you've alreaedy read about some of your experiences together in your journal. I don't doubt they would be able to tell you much more than I can. You spent more time with her than I did while you were the late Majesty's Blade."

Brighid frowned, holding her hand to her chin in thought and pushing his dolls to the back of her mind. "Perhaps. That said, I'm not entirely certain how much stock I'm able to put into my past self's discernment. I'm simply looking for a second opinion." She dropped her hands delicately at her side. "She speaks of you often," she continued, "I understand that you are busy, but I think that your familiar presence would be a comfort. I can't imagine being cut off from everything familiar is good for her wellbeing."

Aegaeon blanched at that, to her disappointment. "I can't say I'm particularly skilled at caring for children, I'm sorry to say. Both His Majesty and myself were present at her father's funeral and I'm afraid I only seemed to make things worse," he admitted. His stoic attitude dropped for a moment as he appeared sheepish, even visible through his colorless eyes and otherwise blank face. "You were always better with children even before my awakening. Even if I was good with children during one of my lifetimes, I only have official reports to read about myself rather than something as personal as a diary. My child-rearing abilities aren't something historians consider important enough to document."

Brighid searched for bitterness in his words, but there was none. She had only been awakened a week ago, but felt no small amount of patriotism for Mor Ardain. The fact that the other national Blade was just as content with his lot in life as she was was reassuring, and she felt a sense of kinship with him. She could count on him being loyal to the end. Not like there was any doubt to begin with, Brighid told herself. My journal has described Aegaeon time and time again and he is as reliable as they come.

"I see," she said smoothly. "Still, you know more about my Driver than I do at the moment. Surely you have something that you can suggest I can do to make her feel more at ease."

He looked thoughtful. "I know she loved training with you and her father, but I believe that it was more she was excited to spend time with her father." Aegaeon was quiet for a while in seemingly deep contemplation. "She quite enjoys music. And most Ardanian dishes."

Brighid's brows furrowed. "I didn't know that she would be one to enjoy such things."

"She can't taste most food, I find," Aegaeon said. "I've made her numerous dishes and she can't tell the difference between most of them."

"Is that so?" Brighid held her hand over her chin thoughtfully. "It could be that she is simply too young to tell you the difference."

Aegaeon's lips were thin. "Considering that she gave a thoughtful criticism of an orchestra's performance several months ago, I doubt it." He shook his head. "After several hours spent in the library, I learned that humans' sense of taste can be damaged by spicy foods. I fear that is what has happened with Lady Mòrag."

"Hours?"

"I was concerned for her wellbeing. Additionally, I was not as busy as I am now at the time and thought that research would keep my mind as sharp as my blade. It wouldn't do to let one dull for the sake of the other."

Brighid hm'd. He's sometimes overzealous. That may be something to remember later, she noted. "Perhaps I should try some other methods of speaking with her," she said, curtsying primly. "Thank you for your time, Aegaeon."