She had spent too many years in the very heart of the regime's activities. With the exception of the days that her husband thought he knew best and demanded that she stay home for her own safety, she was used to being right where all of the action was. There was always something going on, something to keep her mind occupied. Truthfully, if she hadn't had that moment in her kitchen when she just snapped, she would probably still be there enjoying the fruits of her labor. Maybe even standing next to Antonin as his most trusted advisor while he quietly campaigned to become the next Dark Lord. If she didn't have to fear that maybe she would be murdered upon sight, she sometimes wondered if she wouldn't be happier going back home. The swirling thoughts in her brain, ever-changing with her moods, could be difficult to keep up with. She didn't know what she wanted from one moment to the next.