<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">Gadriel shook his head.</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080"> “No that's my other--”</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"> before he was cut off, as the man tossed him a small leather bound black book. He blinked, all color draining from his face as he stared down at his own handwriting, knowing exactly what was in the book. He locked eyes with his two eldest children, before shakily turning back to the man. </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080">“This is standard business. You’d be hard pressed to find any man who doesn’t work like this!” </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">he feebly attempted to argue.</span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ffcc">Alexi glanced down, realizing his sister had nervously slipped her hand into his, and stepped a little closer to her, before putting his arm around her shoulders protectively. Their father had done something to anger House Dimir, and he only hoped the two of them, who had worked so hard to distance themselves from their father, would not pay the consequences of it. </span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99">Ayla, with one hand now behind her brother’s back, began a careful and subtle weave of magic. One that would craft a duplicate of them were they stood, frozen. One that would allow them to slip out. She was no fool. But at the same time she was afraid, one could not escape the Dimir. She let the magic fade for now, hoping that they could argue their way out of this. </span>