Lorcan was looking cool on the outside, but this had been unsettling. He dressed this morning, careful to be impeccable. Some things had to start looking as if it were business as usual. He chose a meticulously tailored black suit, with a white shirt, and a trim black tie. He chose a pair of glasses purposely for their darker tint, and not because he needed them to see.
Zada had been supportive in the silent spaces where he'd needed it. When things were busy, Lorcan focused and moved forward. In the silent spaces, where his rage preoccupied him, Zada had been steady. He wasn't fooled into thinking she had done it out of any familial devotion, although they both were starting to fall into an uncomfortable sort of relationship. It almost felt--warm. Something neither of them were used to. When the warmth started to emerge, they mutually pushed it back into business. This was, after all, just business.
From behind him, she brought him a cup of tea and set it on the dresser as he threaded the onyx and diamond cufflinks into his shirtsleeves, and when she kissed him on the cheek, he glanced up at her reflection in the mirror and he caught himself smiling slightly. Was she smiling back a little?
"Can I talk you into a scone at least?" she asked quietly. "Its been days, Lorcan."
"No. I'm not hungry," he said. Then he remembered his manners. "Thank you, though." She picked up the white gold cigarette case and handed it to him. She handed him the usual content of his pockets one item at a time. She'd started to do that for him lately.
"Shall I at least pick up a bottle of sleeping potion for you, then?" she had chosen her words carefully.
"No," he said, trying not to sound abrupt. "Just please have the house elves put fresh tea in my office please--at once. I'm expecting Du Hunt this morning."
"And what will you do, Lorcan?" She asked, sighing, concerned. He turned and looked at her squarely.
"I'm going to ask for her help," he said quietly. "Now, send for the tea, please."
"Of course," she said. He watched her as she turned and left. She was dressing today particularly to please him, in the figure fitting dress he'd bought her because it matched her eyes. He had noticed she'd deliberately chosen it today, and he appreciated it. He glanced at the clock. Damn. He was running four minutes late. Du Hunt would either be already here or here momentarily. And he was never late.