Andrea did not leave his suite.
That was not his choice.
By the time Thomas left Arion and Dean's sitting room, the private wing assigned to the Vale family had already been converted into something that still looked elegant from the corridor and functioned, in practice, like a velvet-lined detention structure. Access bracelets were suspended. Private vehicles were locked in the underground bay. Personal devices were mirrored, copied, and removed from independent networks. Palace security stood at each end of the hall with the blank expressions of men and women who had been instructed to be polite unless someone became foolish.
Andrea, apparently, had become foolish once already.
No one intended to offer him a second opportunity.
By late morning, Otto had the Vale family in one of the secure conference rooms beneath the eastern administrative wing.
Arion should have been there already.
Dean should have gone with him.
