"Come here," Rafael said.
Frederik obeyed at once with the unnerving composure of a child who had inherited too much discipline too early but still had enough sense to understand when his father wanted him close.
He stopped in front of Rafael's chair.
Rafael looked up at him.
Dust on one sleeve. Hair slightly out of place near the temple. Face calm. Eyes attentive.
And yes, annoyingly, beneath all that stillness was the unmistakable tension of a child who did not fear punishment nearly as much as he feared Rafael's disappointment.
Rafael exhaled softly through his nose.
Then he lifted a hand and brushed the dust from Frederik's sleeve with automatic care.
"You were in the maintenance corridor."
Frederik nodded once. "Yes."
"That was not authorized."
"No."
"Do you understand why that is a problem?"
Frederik hesitated, then answered with complete honesty. "Because if I can get there, someone else might too."
