---
Raka's good eye narrowed faintly. "They are disciplined."
"That was not the question."
He did not answer.
That, too, told her enough.
Something was happening.
Not immediate violence. If it were immediate violence, Raka would not be standing at her desk discussing his face like a man who had been punched by philosophy. No. This was preparation. Summoning. Positioning.
She asked the next useful thing.
"Do I need to move the staff?"
"No," Raka said at once. "No one touches the house."
That answer came too cleanly to be improvised. Good. So Sekhmet had either said something or Raka had already decided the house counted as protected territory under the same larger command.
Mira folded her hands lightly and gave the vice leader a long look. "You are becoming very domesticated."
Raka's mouth moved faintly. "You speak too much for a woman with ledgers."
She almost smiled. "And you stand in my front room with half your face ruined and still think you are frightening."
