Good girl. It was a phrase Octavia had fought to be able to lay a claim to, to have it be something she could accept, crave, sometimes need. Now being at a point where she could ask to hear it from Duke - and to hear it from Duke, regardless of what their actual dynamic was like or would ever be like - well, it was a heady feeling.

The soft whimper in her throat might have felt embarrassing, had her entire system not have already been absolutely flooded with a lack of caring about that sort of thing. She was looking up at Duke with open wonder.