The hallways of the manor smelled like cedar polish and quiet wealth, the kind that didn't need to be shown because it had been there too long to impress anyone. Windstone walked half a step behind him, posture straight, expression calm.
"Transportation is ready," he said. "Unmarked. I told the staff you were called to a policy briefing."
Trevor snorted softly. "Very believable. I always look annoyed after those."
Windstone did not disagree. Which was its own kind of loyalty.
As they reached the vestibule, Trevor paused to shrug into his coat. Windstone held it for him in the old way, not because Trevor needed help, but because Windstone believed people in pain shouldn't have to do unnecessary steps alone.
Once the buttons were done, Windstone smoothed the shoulders with that absurd, meticulous care that only deeply competent old butlers possessed.
"You look like a man who plans to be back by dinner," Windstone observed mildly.
"I do."
