“Don’t cloister yourself, Fi. This place is your home, as much as it hers. You should feel free to go where you will.” She should also feel safe within its walls. He would have a word with Zara, see if there was a reason behind her aggression. And, he thought, he would have to tell Master Ryan. Something was disrupting the... ‘tranquillity’ was not the word, for the House had never been that... whatever the word, Master Ryan had a right to know. Then again, Zara was a woman. It might just be her time of the month.<br/><br/>No, uncivilised behaviour was not to be tolerated. Not for any excuse.<br/><br/>“If she does anything of the like again, come find me right away. Or send a servant. You wouldn’t let a client handle you so; to allow Zara that freedom is foolish.” He sighed. Even if he were a fake guard, he was the only one the Teahouse had. He would play the part to the hilt. Him whining about being whored out infrequently would hurt how he was looked on by Fiona. She was a whore as much as he’d ever been, she would think him, in some part of her mind, as weak for shying from such attention. And if she thought him weak, she would not turn to him for help.<br/><br/>He took a deep breath, the cold are lancing the delicate tissue of his lungs, and said, “I am glad you took care of the sketch he drew of me. I think I will send it to a friend. How best do you suppose it might be transported?”<br/>