Raven didn't know what it was like, to actually want one's father to be proud. Really, she just wanted him to not hurt her friends...to actually want her, for her. Not for what she could do, what she would do--according to prophecy.

"I'm somewhat older than your maid, just...weak blood for drink, but not all that sickly otherwise." Which was odd, considering how pale she was. "And it's what I recall reading of you. So far it matches when I've talked with you." Raven fidgeted a bit with the edge of her cloak, still hiding within it and her cowl's shadow. "I do enjoy talking with you, and I rarely enjoy socializing."