Lucien sat alone in the quiet, dark living room. He idly swirled the scotch in his glass, watching the liquid catch the low light, then took a slow sip just as he sensed someone else in the room.
"You should be sleeping, Mr. Zirren," he said quietly, not bothering to turn.
"I wanted to," Grayson admitted, sinking into the armchair across from him with a tired sigh. "But my mind wouldn't shut off."
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Drink?"
Grayson hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just a little."
Lucien reached for the empty glass on the table, poured a small portion, and slid it over. Grayson took it with a murmured "Thanks."
"Your brother finally down?" Lucien asked, leaning back. "Renzo's still convinced we're going to let Leia down that we can't keep her safe or happy."
