Ophelia's voice, soft as ever, startled Anne. She nearly dropped the bowl herself as she jumped. When she realized it was just Ophelia, she sighed in relief. Just being in this house put her on edge. She smiled and bowed her head in greeting, then turned her attention back to the child. "He was hungry," she explained. "I hope you don't mind that I gave him his breakfast. I didn't want to disturb you, and it didn't look like he was willing to wait." She looked at Milo, carefree, poking at a mostly-solid piece of fruit in his hand. As Ophelia came over, Anne stepped away, letting the mother care for her child in a way Anne never could.
She stood there, awkward. She had finished the letter, the letter Ophelia couldn't read. Was now a good time? As good as any, she thought to herself. "Oh, Ophelia," she started, moving to the table and picking up the parchment. "A man came by today to deliver this. Do forgive me for reading it without you, but it had the king's signature, and I feared something might have been wrong with your husband..." She motioned the letter towards her but, seeing her hands full with Milo, she awkwardly moved it back to the table. "Right," she murmured. "Well... Ophelia, your husband has gone missing."
Anne waited for the reaction. For the pause, the panic, whatever Ophelia would give her to work with. Then, she continued. "He hadn't returned to camp, and according to this, they suspect he's lost in the mountains somewhere. I'm unsure if you've ever been to those mountains, the ones up north, but I've heard people talk. There are ferocious animals out there, godless creatures, they'll attack anything that comes near them. Ophelia--you don't think?"
And just like that, the seed of doubt was planted. If Anne could convince Ophelia that Rolf was out there, defenseless, then maybe it would just be a little bit more to convince her to leave this place. Anne set the letter down and looked into Ophelia's eyes. She wore a look of concern, one she wore too often. "I don't think they have intentions of sending a search party," she said quietly. "But your husband, he is a strong man, isn't he? He's got to be out here. Perhaps... Perhaps we could rescue him, if no one else will." She looked to her bag, to the sword now partially pouring out of it. Sure Ophelia wasn't great with a sword, but Anne just needed her to believe she could defend herself, at least. She turned back to Ophelia. "Forgive me. This is your husband. You know him better than anyone. I just... I cannot stand to sit here idly if there's a chance he may die in our inaction."