"I mean it Victor! she seethed, arms crossed and her fingers flexing as she clutched the fabric of her gown sleeves. "You might not view me highly but I still deserve your respect and that includes your respect for my personal space and privacy!" God forbid he'd walked - drifted? - in while she'd been changing or some manner of undress. He might be dead and her brother and she might not have a spine most days but she drew the line here. "I'll get the room warded if I have to!"

"Promise me you won't do it again - actually promise me, Victor, not those half-hollow words you are known for - and I'll write your letter! It seems to me here you are the one in this situation that actually needs something the least you can do is be polite."