Daphne's POV
Quinn settled into his chair at the table's head, his presence commanding the room without effort.
His gaze found me immediately.
I kept my eyes fixed downward, still uncertain about the boundaries in this place. Our conversation at the gallery had felt almost human, like two people simply talking without the usual theatrical tension. Perhaps eye contact was acceptable here, even expected. But after what happened with Lucian, caution seemed the wiser choice.
I remained still and waited.
"How did you sleep last night, Daphne?" His voice carried that same measured quality, pleasant yet revealing nothing beneath its surface.
But I understood him better now.
"Well enough," I replied.
"Barnaby mentioned you require discipline."
I allowed a moment to pass before responding. "I wasn't aware of how strict the expectations were. I understand them better now."
