«Enough, Mycroft,» Achilles ordered in our native Greek. His frown contained no sympathy. «If Jehovah Mason asked you what we said here, would you be able to stop yourself from answering?» I choked on a sob. «No.» His face softened. «I’m sure somewhere on this globe great leaders of men are waiting for you to do a thousand tasks for them.» «But—» «I’ll call you when we need you. Now we don’t.» My throat tightened. «Alright.» «And, Mycroft.» «Yes?» «Don’t eavesdrop this time. I know you spy by habit, but don’t spy on this. Never on things like this.»
