The fact that his daughter Imperatrix (whichever version of her survived to adulthood) might be his only legitimate child had in no way increased Tiberius' desire to spend any time with her, or to devote any energy to her care or well being. If it hadn't been for the periodic prompting of the servants and the establishment (at their suggestion) of a routine visiting schedule, he might have foregone seeing her entirely, simply because he was liable to go days at a time without recalling that she existed, much less devoting any serious thought to her upbringing. That being said, spending ten to twenty minutes in the nursery a few times a week was not such an imposition on his time that it was worthwhile to make excuses to avoid it, generally speaking. Over the course of her life these little events had become increasingly rehearsed, which suited Tiberius just fine, because it meant that he needed only sit through the presentation of whatever meager faculties she had developed since his last visit and then take his leave. He was expecting this visit to be no different. He would walk in and take a seat on the sofa, and the nurse would offer little prompts to his daughter to direct her through whatever she'd planned to demonstrate for that day. Say hello. Show your father your nice new dolly. Do you know what color dolly's dress is? Very good. Show your father how you brush dolly's hair. Where is dolly's hairbrush?

As if anyone cared about the doll's hairbrush and the fact that his daughter was now capable of retrieving it from her toy box without assistance. Well, apparently the nurse did; she always looked quite pleased with these accomplishments. Tiberius supposed that was what they paid her to do, though, so perhaps it was unsurprising.

The nurse wasn't waiting for him when he reached the room, the way she normally was; instead, she was in the rocking chair, humming what might have been a lullaby to what was quite certainly a pillow. The door to the nursery was open, the room was in chaos (at least compared to the immaculate tidiness that was customary for his visits), and the toddler was nowhere to be seen. Tiberius froze in the doorway for a moment as he tried to make sense of the scene. The nurse was befuddled, most likely, or had some other magical interference with her mental capacities, because she didn't react to his appearance in the doorway at all.

Was this his daughter's work? It would have been early for a magical outburst, but — well. They were based on uncontrolled emotions, from what he understood, and half of her genetics had come from Antigone, so anything was possible. That could explain what had happened to the nurse, but not where his daughter had gone. For that, he would probably need the servant to have her wits returned to her. After a long period of silence, then, Tiberius drew his wand and cast "Finite Incantatum."