"I do know that," the woman, Isabel, answered, taking a breath and tempering her tone. "But when you opened Grace House to these women, you did say they would not be disturbed by your kind." A chair creaked with effort, and the minotaur sighed. "I did, you're right. But she requires a different kind of care to recover. She's different." "So you said." Sour again. "Don't take that tone. Not when it comes to her. She survived no less than any of the others," Asterion said, voice lowing to a rumble like thunder. They were speaking of me.
