Norman's head tilted the barest fraction, like a man who had just been given a new objective and was already calculating timelines. He didn't look at Rafael directly, but he listened with the attention Shadows reserved for orders that would change the weather.
Gregoris's gaze stayed on Rafael. "Earlier," he repeated, careful. "Define earlier."
Rafael's mouth tightened, not with uncertainty, but with that particular brand of decision he always wore like jewelry, unapologetic. "Now."
Gregoris didn't react the way most people did when someone said 'now.' He studied Rafael's face again, the quiet inventory he had started doing without meaning to: the pallor that had eased over the last two days, the calm in his eyes, and the fact that he was standing without bracing a hand on anything.
"You are sure," Gregoris said.
Rafael's laugh was small, almost offended. "Do you think I would have the energy to say that if I wasn't?"
"I think you have spite," Gregoris corrected.
