Ishamael nods calmly at her tiny form huddled on the broken stones of the garden. He rather liked the shattered look and only had the back wall, and the flower beds restored. There was a beauty in broken things.

"We will speak later, I suppose."

With that, Ishamael walked inside his house to take care of some unfinished business involving a detailed accounting from an agent within the Hall of Servants. He would deal with Duram Sedai's inquiries personally.