Samantha had to admit, the last person that she expected to see when she opened her door had been the white-haired man who had visited her at the burlesque. And yet, despite that, she couldn't deny that she was happy to see him. She stepped aside, allowing him to move around her and into the apartment. "Make yourself at home," The faerie spoke pleasantly, clearly pleased to have a bit of company for the afternoon. Though she'd been looking forward to having the afternoon to herself, she was more than willing to entertain for a bit. She moved easily, making no hesitation as she moved to make the tea that she'd offered up to him. She wasn't quite sure about what it was with her and offering tea, but things just seemed a little less stressful when she had something in her hands, and she hoped that the beverage was enough to soothe anyone else who was in her home.

As soon as she'd started the tea, the faerie girl wasted no time in telling about her newfound royal status. After all, she saw no reason to not mention it to him. He was someone with clear interest in her well-being. Why else would he have gone through all the trouble of warning her about what might happen to her? As such, she felt it was worth mentioning that she'd gone out of her way to protect herself. If she was a queen, she was awarded some protection. Even the girls at the burlesque â€" those who weren't loyal to her â€" awarded her slightly more respect now with her title. No, she wasn't a natural born fae, but that hadn't stopped her from gathering enough people to become a queen. The woman announces the news, a bit of anxiety bubbling within her as she spoke. After all, she'd been quiet about telling anyone thus far for the fear that they would presume she was making a mistake, and she hardly expected that Frost would be any different.

However, when a grin spread on his features Samantha was naïve enough to believe it was a genuine one, her own smile forming at the mention of congratulations. "Thank you," She clasped her hands together in front of her, her joy at it all clear in every aspect. "Keep your eyes peeled for an invite to my coronation, of course," She teased. "Though Dorian is convinced I need princess lessons. As though the ability to determine which fork is the salad fork has anything to do with my ability to lead or wield my powers." That she was giving him far more information than she realized was something she was clearly unable to see, the girl still fully convinced that Frost was completely looking out for her best interest. "You're the first person I've told, admittedly. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. The other girls at work know. Word gets around quickly, it seems. I imagine Nadya will know soon enough. But I haven't even told Aiden yet. I mean to, I just... I think this is the kind of thing you tell someone in person... and I just haven't found the right moment..."

At the mention of whether or not she trusted Ivy and Dorian, Samantha's smile grew. She nodded, clearly excited about the whole situation. "Of course. Dorian's still figuring out the twenty-first century, and Ivy is trying to figure out how to be a faerie, like me. But they're both very loyal and care about me. And I them." She'd just moved back to check on the tea when he spoke again, her attention turning towards him with every aspect of the tea forgotten. "Oh?" She asked quietly, clearly interested in what information he would share with her. After all, she was Queen now. It was her duty to care about these kinds of things. "A target," She echoed, the color seeming to drain readily from her cheeks. She met his concern with a nod of her own. Of course she would keep Ivy and Dorian close, especially if they were in any sort of danger. They were important, and it was her job to keep them safe. "Of course. I'll keep them safe."

For a moment, Samantha believed that that is all he has to warn her about, though her attention never waivered from Frost even though the kettle was starting to make a soft howling noise. The kettle was nearly entirely forgotten by the faerie girl at the mention of three faerie girls lingering in the area. "Is it...?" She didn't finish her sentence. Frost would have no way of knowing about the faerie girls, no way of knowing if it was them lingering or if it was a mere coincidence. The girl turned abruptly, shoving the kettle off the burner before she slid down the counter to land on the kitchen floor, her knees pulled tight to her chest.

It was silly, she was sure. There was no way they could have been here, no way that they had found her. She'd ran, possibly as far from them as she could have gotten. There was no way that they'd tracked her down, right? She felt no pull to them, but had their status as her makers created a bond between them that Samantha was unaware of? That she had no idea what had happened to them only seemed to make the present situation worse. After all, the woman still woke up from nightmares about what had happened. Nightmares that had only seemed to worsen from the moment that Frost had told her that they might be looking for her. She'd seen them in every dream since. Flashbacks to the night they'd slit her throat, to the seven horrible days in which they'd tortured and terrified her. She saw them in shadows of the burlesque, in Aiden's bed wrapped around him. Every dream she had spoke of them. And now, it seemed, they'd found her.

"Three." Samantha spoke finally, her body and voice both trembling with fear. Her anxiety had reached a near breaking point, the post traumatic stress she'd thought she'd swallowed bubbling over the surface and leaving her a wreck on her kitchen floor. Later, she was sure she'd be embarrassed for falling apart in front of Frost. But for now... for now she was merely trying to remember how to breathe in the moments that it seemed her breath was being stolen from her. "Three girls. What do they... what do they look like, Frost? Tell me everything you know."