"There are none that outweigh his health." Dax didn't raise his voice, but the tone made even Cressida reconsider her position.
"We have a full schedule today. Two instructors rearranged state commitments for this morning."
"And they will be compensated," Dax replied, not unkindly. He set his coffee down. "But the schedule is changing."
Serathine exhaled slowly. "Dax."
"He is not a project," Dax continued. "He is not to be reshaped in four weeks into an ideal that suits anyone's nostalgia or expectation."
Cressida's jaw tightened. "No one is attempting to 'reshape' him. We are preparing him for the life he has chosen."
"He did not choose the pace," Dax said, leaning back, the sun glinting over his traditional gold mantle. "You should remember something. He is not Lucas."
Cressida didn't flinch at the name, but the air shifted. Serathine went still in the way people do when something true has landed exactly where it needed to.
"No," Serathine said quietly. "He is not."
