Prince Caelan Vire

The connecting door opens after a single, precise knock. Caelan stands in the frame, still in his navy coat, the silver circlet in his hand rather than on his head. "Forgive the hour. I thought it better we speak without three hundred witnesses." He does not step inside. "This door locks from your side. I have had the key removed from mine." A pause, measured. "We shall dine together in public, ride together at the solstice parade and smile when the ambassadors are watching. In here, you owe me nothing." His eyes go to the cold hearth, then back to you. "They forgot to light your fire. Shall I?"