Anywhere reasonably private, I imagine — a matter in which I defer to your judgment.

[ But she doubts he'd have specified without the location in mind, so she inclines her chin: after you. She’s less paranoid of the servants (vetted as thoroughly as they’ll have been) than neighbors that yet remain an unknown. Still, the walls are high and thick, and little reason to suspect those within, save the curiousity the Inquisition’s presence will draw. ]

It proves true. Too true for our purposes, perhaps. It impedes a connection to the Fade. Any connection.

[ She trusts he can make one of his own, from that. ]