"It's okay," Daryl's gruff voice softened, "He don't know me. He don't gotta talk to me." He gave another nod to the kid and kept moving. "If Faolan's here, he's in his office. If he's not, he will be at some point. Man spends half his time over here."

Hillingdon House, being what it was, had some 'public' gathering areas for those who were arranging bounties, settling up jobs, or sharing news about sightings relevant to the hunters that made their living in the Clan. The rest of the space was for the Clan and the Clan alone. Bran was her husband, that made her part of the Clan. And while a few of the others stopped to stare incredulously as Daryl led Liadan and her kid through to the private, none of them questioned it. And all of them went back to what they were doing with a shrug. A few would probably ask him about it later, but they all trusted him to know what he was doing.

When they got to the office, Daryl knocked politely before opening the door. It was empty.

"Looks like he's out," he turned to her, leaning against the doorframe, "What kind of message you wanting to leave?"