The name sounds familiar, but not in a way that Victra can place. Her conversations with people are few, excepting Jesse and Lincoln, those few times with Val, now. Mostly she overhears things, then can't remember where she heard them. The information is what matters, not the people it came from. So she takes the woman's hand in her own and gives it a shake.

"Victra au Julii. I've been here six months and I'm constantly waiting to go back home." She huffs out a laugh. "Not that there's a lot of good to go back to."

She still needs her revenge. She still needs to see the rebellion through. She needs to know what happens, even if it means death for herself when it's all over. She made a promise to Darrow, not in so many words, but a promise nonetheless.

She squints thoughtfully and tilts her head. "You're really happy here?"