David didn't blink under her scrutiny. He simply nodded and began drafting the command.
"I want her brought in by the end of the day," Serathine said. "Don't dress it up too kindly. Make it clear this is not a rescue. She's being summoned, not welcomed."
"We'll say it's a courtesy of House D'Argente," David replied. "A temporary relocation for her protection while the Kilmer estate is under review."
"And let that rumor spread," Serathine murmured. "Let them whisper that she's being considered for court integration, that we're extending mercy for Lucas's sake."
"And in practice?"
"I want her under surveillance the moment she crosses the threshold." She picked up her tea at last, the once-steaming liquid now lukewarm. Still, she sipped it—unbothered. "Have the southern guest wing prepared. Sparse, clean. Nothing soft enough to imply comfort."
David looked up from the tablet. "Do we assign a handler?"
