[ There's a million thoughts in her mind. Did something happen? Did something not happen? Is Lyney alright? Safe? Healthy? Cooperating? Lynette wears her emotions well, stoic in ways Lyney never could be. Calm, collected if only to keep the unease of a whirlwind still. ]

A day off, then. [ Lynette says, almost bitter but the girl's attentive eyes betray that. It's affirming – that even the Duke must have time to let the sun hit his skin. ] Have you tried these? I think they aren't new. Just the toppings.

[ She nudges her plate forward, a pasteless pastry – a croissant without a thick red paste to heat the senses. ]

I think they're a few steps above what you may find in the Fortress.

[ Even knowing her brother is in his grasp, that sweet voice offers warmth different than what Lyney did. It's respectful, fair, and guarded – not too inviting and not too performative. ]

... How is – [ They both speak at the same time and Lynette's tail flicks anxiously mid-air. An awkward laugh, her teacup lifted up delicately. Missing her... there's a somber hum past her lips as she nods into her sip. ] Four months and fifteen days left. He hasn't earned any extra time, has he?