Mirabella sat as still as a statue in the small room that was tucked into the right side of the Infirmary. It was quiet in this area, much more quieter than the entranceway had been. She had come in hours ago, trailing quickly along with the demigods who had carried Sam into the building. He hadn't moved a muscle nor made a sound since the attack.

Mira herself hadn't said a word either, excluding when she told their healers that she was perfectly fine and to leave her alone. She had a few cuts on her palms, at least one on her face if the throbbing was any indication. Her arm was sore from where she had fallen, but she oddly enough couldn't care less about the pain. A fact that was truly disturbing. Mira usually objected to the most minimal amount of pain and was usually quite vocal about it. She couldn't be bothered with it now though, not while she sat silently still and watched the dark-haired boy before her as he remained unconscious.

Sam. Sam Darnay. The boy who she had used so that she could fulfill a promise to a world that she had thought he'd never understand. Apparently, she mused dryly to herself, he might have understood more than she could have ever dreamed. He was a demigod. It didn't stop there though, he was a Roman. Her apparent enemy, which truly was just fitting. He was also a child of Jupiter. One of the big three, a title that carried much more weight than hers ever could. There was no contesting the fact that he was, and always would be, better than her. He had always been kind and open. Utterly charming to everyone, there wasn't a person who walked this earth who would dislike him. He had never once made her feel like she was just a pretty face, that she was capable of any of the dark things that made their home in her heart. Mira pulled her knees to her chest, her chin resting on them as she watched him.

She sent up a silent prayer to her mother, commanding that he be fine. It was the very least the deity could do. She had set Mira upon a path with no rosy outcome. She knew the burden of having Aphrodite's godly blood running through her veins. Her mother owed her at least this. Her eyes remained on him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. A muffled sound spoke nearby, though she saw no one. She only caught the words 'He should be up by now' and Mira stood, quietly shutting the door.

He would be fine. She demanded it. Mirabella quietly moved to his bedside, her hand softly moving some of his dark hair off of his forehead. "Please, please wake up Sam." Her voice was soft, pleading, and though it hadn't worked before, she pushed charmspeak into her words. It never worked well when her intended target disliked her and Gods knew that he had every right to hate her, but it still hurt to know. To see the evidence as crystal clear as day.