all that's left could be ghosts, but you'd haunt me most

[ovations]

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[ovations]

[ He can't do this. To question Father was blasphemy, it was a disgrace. Father had kept their family safe, ensured nothing would ever harm them... that they weren't just lost to the shadows and darkness in the world. They pay their prices, like everything else in the world – but that safety.

Oh, his Lynette...

Up to his feet he goes, dusting at his hips idly. ]

Whatever awaits me on the surface is what is suitable. My time here is by Fontaine's jurisdiction and judgment. My time returning to the House... Father's judgment will be just as well.

[ Lyney is fully aware of his 'betrayal', the risk of putting the House down its best operative. It ruins Father's plans and puts things at risk. It was his fault, but he'd choose Lynette's safety time and time again.

...Father couldn't save her this time.

He gives a curt nod to Wriothesley, his stomach tight with a forced smile. ]

The tea was delicious, by the way.

[cuffit]

[ Reassurance doesn't always work as intended, Wriothesley knows--but an unknowable pang of something flits momentarily in his chest as Lyney backs off. Maybe he's said too much, or too little, or maybe it's simple unease that reasserts itself between them. Whatever it is, the boy is done with this conversation. Wriothesley won't keep him.

He straightens his tie, nodding small. ]

...Take care on your way back.