Words are spoken, seep into her mind. Kick off all kinds of thoughts - before Traudel follows Ferdinand's example to get up. Wine glass in hand, held at the stem. Carefully clinking glasses with him. "To the fallen. For a brighter future." Smelling the Riesling once, before taking a small sip as well. Her tone reflecting the personal importance of those two short sentences. As he sits down again, so does Traudel. "Your words are most welcome and i thank you for them. It is true, ja. Großadmiral von Thielau has entrusted me with this assignment - i did not expect it to happen. An honor and privilege, which i now try to fulfill to the best of my abilities." That faint and polite smile returning.
"Memories of home are as precious as they are vital. Knowing where our roots lie, i mean. Even just a few moments a day keep said memory alive. I understand..."Softly nodding once, Traudel folds her hands. "Something that is ailing ... needs to either be put down or cured if possible. This process can be an arduous one, not always is success guaranteed. The strong tend to make it through it way more often than those who are already weak. It is only natural..." Eyes wander down to her own hands for a few moments, dwelling on folded fingers - which slowly but surely turn into two clenched fists. Leather creaking. "Too many voices, all believing they have a say in the matter. Hubris and petty-mindedness aplenty. Thinking they could do better than who is to rightfully rule and lead. Weakening the very thing they wish to strengthen, babbling and bickering about their respective goals. Achieving nothing worthwile. Sickeningly sweet irony..." With a sharp inhale her hands relax abruptly, so does her posture. Provided insight into a potentially delicate topic as brief as it was deep. "Both our great trees suffer from parasites. It will take various kinds of treatments to properly combat these ailments as well as their sources. And combatted they will be. For our Houses are strong, even while they are bled and choked by the poisoned dregs of society that have settled around their bases."
Bright blue eyes lock with his. "Let us talk medicine, Herr Maréchal. Medicine and history."
