"I think they're having a misunderstanding," Brian said, trying to reel in his anger. "Can one of you check and see if they have another bedroom door in the workshop? If not, I'm going to have to go into the village and buy one. Oh, and can someone clean up the kindling now in my bedroom doorway please? Do stay within explosion distance if I have to go into town please. At least until this is overwith. I'm not sure what he's so irked about, but I'm about to go a round with him if he doesn't quit."
"Khaat's frightened," Kate said softly.
"As I would be if someone blew up my door," Brian said dryly.
"That's not like Michael--at all," Kate said, frowning.
"I presume that's why Robert promised to lurk nearby."
"Robert does not lurk," Kate said. "Ever."
"I think he thought it was better than the alternatives," Brian said, walking away, doing his best to hide his anger with Michael.
Michael meanwhile waited for Robert to leave and then went over to Khaat. "In all your life, you have never, not one time, ever attempted to lie to me--until today. What the hell is wrong with you?" She was frightened by his tone. He'd blown up her door. She tried to skirt around him, to run out, but he caught her. "Just tell me," he said deliberately, quieter. She refused to try to answer him. He looked at her. "Look," he said. "The only time you simply don't answer is if you feel cornered, like you have no choice. But you've never been in a position where you couldn't read me in, even if I couldn't come with you. Why can't you tell me?"
"I can't," she said. "Let me go." She yanked away from him, and went back outside, wanting to be alone. From his upstairs window, her father saw her go out and accio'd her winter cloak out to her, a few paces in front of her in the snow. She looked up and saw him there and picked up the cloak and put it on. Robert looked over to see Michael in the hallway.
"I can't believe you thought that would work," Robert said. "You know better."