Arion didn't dignify that with a response.
Minerva's gaze slid down to Boreas. "And Boreas decided to become a chest plate."
Boreas cracked one eye open at the sound of his name, assessed Minerva like she was a familiar threat, and then placed his head more firmly under Dean's chin with the slow, possessive deliberation of someone making a statement.
Minerva made a soft sound of approval. "Good boy."
Arion finally lifted his eyes to her. "What do you need signed?"
Minerva held the folder out, but her attention stayed on Dean, not on the paperwork. "It's a shipment authorization," she said, "and a scheduling adjustment for the morning briefing."
Arion's thumb flicked across the tablet with practiced ease, bringing up the signature protocol.
Minerva watched him for a moment, then added lightly, "You delayed your first meeting."
Arion didn't blink. "Yes."
"Because Dean is asleep in your lap," she said, like she was stating a weather report.
