“If I may,” David interjects; a meek, composed voice arises from next to Priscus Sterling. “The situation that Priscus Gilroy refers to is exceptionally sensitive. His Grace is aware of it and there are more ears in Elysium than just our own.” A rather foreboding warning delivered, David meshes his fingers just at his lap. One look of sorrowful apology is offered up to the Seneschal.
Ears are everywhere; it's quite a bit why it was Cozette who delivered the orders rather than Asa himself.
What do you do, when you cannot trust Elysium?
There's nothing the Shadow Priscus has to say about collecting a history of the Domain, as tangled and twisted as it is. David is a nexus of it, with his shadow somehow touching every corner of the Domain's recent history. Strange to think that merely two years ago he was a cowering, frightened man away from home for the first time.
The Mortician never thought he would be here among Prisci – the family was large and Order well attended. He thought he would be a quiet practitioner of his Family Business. Fate has other plans.