Khaat was resting on the sofa in her office. Chase had attacked her not even so much an hour ago. She had been upset. Not by Chase. Chase was nutters. She knew that. That wasn't a technical term. It was, in fact, downright disrespectful. But Khaat was angry with her, and that threatened to reduce her to namecalling. Chase had attacked her, tried to kill her, knocked her onto the floor, face down on top of the babies. Khaat had panicked. Her father had said things initially looked like there was no crisis, but he had wanted her to rest to be sure. Sometimes the effects of a fall did not immediately show up.
And the more she tried to rest, the more she started to feel pain. She had thought it was because of the fall itself, the bruises that were now on her face and around her neck. They were becoming clear. Coal black, in fact. She attributed the fact that she just didn't feel "right" was due to her being stressed, afraid, and angry. But then she realized that part of what she felt was genuine pain.
"Brian," she called him, trying not to be fearful.
"Hm?" he asked, pulling a few dead leaves off a fern hanging by her window.
"Brian, something's wrong. We need Daddy," she said. He stopped and looked at her carefully.
"Are you saying...." he began.
"Somethings not right," she said. He took some hastened steps to her and laid his hand on her stomach and checked her carefully.
"You're right," he said. "We need your father." He went over and opened the floo in her office and summoned the crew from the house. He wanted his own people around her now. He wanted her safe. When someone arrived to protect her, then he would send for Robert. Hopefully, they would recognize that when Brian sent for them this quickly, they needed to come now and not 20 minutes from now.