Ronan walked through the Ashbourne estate corridors after leaving Vulcan's meeting room, his footsteps echoing faintly against polished stone.
The heavy doors closed behind him, and the formal pressure lifted slightly.
Vulcan had accepted the mind magic explanation. For now.
That did not mean he believed it completely.
It bought Ronan time. And he had a feeling Vulcan didn't fully believe him either. There was a certain look in his eyes.
Before he reached the entrance hall, someone stepped into view near a side corridor.
Irene.
She waited there, clearly on purpose.
Her posture was straight. Almost rigid.
Without Vulcan beside her, she seemed less certain of herself.
Ronan assumed she came to interrogate him again.
"Hello Irene. Is there something you wanted to say to me before I left?"
"Are you hurting yourself on purpose?"
What?
That caught him off guard.
She continued before he could deflect.
