She raised her glass, giving Beatrix a nod. "Happy birthday." Then, a small, soft smile tugging at her lips, she offered her gift; a truth. "I'm proud of you."
╼ ༺ :|| Caught mid sip, Beatrix hadn’t anticipated her old mentor freely making declarations. A breath’s hitch inducing a flustered fit of coughs, waving away concern others may have directed in her direction. Ruined grace from a silly complement she’d heard daily from others... although it not so ludicrous coming from Edith.
Acknowledgement ever sought, appreciation for the dedication and loyalty, the mastery even during a time when a simple soldier was learning the ways of military life. Praise never fell on deaf ears whilst among the most esteemed royal, and the right words were were always on her tongue readying gratitude. Enduring days and nights of Edith’s strict regimen and successfully overcoming every obstacle her mentor placed before her had not even earned those special words. And now Beatrix fought back the bubbling pride swelling within her chest.
Another sip hiding a muddled reply behind the need to clear her throat until finally she could smile, a faint redness still flush against her cheek. There was much to say, but all she could muster immediately in the growing number of eyes was simple.
“Thank you.”