[The Garden] Praeceptor of the Reliquiae

[Helena]

Helena didn’t talk in the car. It was not her way to indulge in small talk anyway, and she certainly didn’t want to get bridled with soothing Eliot’s nerves. She said nothing about the chair either; his physical frailty had never concerned her beyond the one inquiry she had made prior to their arrangement. When the door opened she swept out, paying no attention to the help who assisted Eliot. Nor did she more than glance at Nox Durante. He had already agreed to this so there was no need to be more than civil on her part. Recruiting him had been her suggestion in the first place. But he wasn’t the important one here.

Though Helena’s sense of fashion could be considered unusual, she was always immaculately turned out. Her auburn hair was smoothed from her brow and fixed in a neat chignon, her doll-like face porcelain pale despite the cold and utterly emotionless as she assessed the situation. Lace spilled up her neck, secured there with an heirloom brooch, and peeked a ruffled halo around her hands where it spilled from her frock coat.

“Of course it’s a problem,” she said sharply. Not to Nox, who had spoken, but to the woman who had come to meet them at the gate. Her voice was unequivocally blue-blood British and naturally imperious. Though Helena didn’t sound annoyed, just certain. This was not some low-level official dotting the I’s, that was clear from her mannerisms, and thus she was accorded some respect. “Since I am integral to the proposal we have to make, and equally and freely share the burden of risk we are taking in opening dialogue with the Custody. I am the Lady Helena Asquith, and we will wait while you complete the additional security checks.”