Vesta moves to sit at the edge of the bed. The mattress dips beneath her, hands smoothing absently over her skirts as she settles.

“No, I don’t, unfortunately.” She shakes her head. “I sent a missive.”

Her fingers lace together in her lap, thumbs brushing restlessly against one another. She glances down at them for a moment, then exhales softly.

“I… didn’t feel it was appropriate for me to stay.” A faint, self-conscious smile tugs at her lips. “I made quite the scene last time.”

Her gaze lifts, drifting around the room nervously.

“Remember Baroness,” she says quietly. “There are no wards here.”

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