Trevor hummed low, not quite sympathetic. "He'll need more than gods. He'll need a binding contract, a running start, and perhaps a shovel to dig his own diplomatic grave."
Lucas stood then, not abruptly but with a smoothness that betrayed his discomfort more than anything else. He smoothed the front of his coat, expression carefully polite. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting with both Serathine and Cressida. Together. In the same room. Possibly with sharp objects and poisoned tea."
Sirius grimaced. "That's not a meeting, that's a blood sport."
Lucius lifted his brows. "Want me to fake an emergency?"
"No," Lucas said dryly. "If I don't go, Serathine will send a summons. If I'm late, Cressida will send a sermon. I'd rather face them both on my own terms."
Trevor stood as well, adjusting his cuffs but not offering to escort him. "You remember the escape plan?"
"Left corridor, second tapestry, through the study, out the servant stairs."
"And if you're caught?"
