He moved through the house and stepped onto the patio, spotting Cyril immediately.
The beta stood near the edge, hands in his pockets, staring out into the courtyard where the pups were arranging chairs and tables.
"Beta Cyril," Charles called.
Cyril turned, straightening instinctively. "Mr Duvall," he said.
"I came to offer my condolences." His gaze flicked briefly toward the courtyard, then back to Cyril. "If I may ask… is Sera here? I'd like to give her a message."
"She's upstairs. Poor girl is a wreck." He hesitated, then added, "I can take you."
"Thank you," Charles said.
They walked back inside together, the noise of the gathering dimming as they climbed the stairs.
They stopped outside Sera's door.
Cyril raised a hand and knocked gently. "Sera? It's Cyril."
No answer.
He knocked again, a little firmer this time. "Sera…there's someone here to see you."
Still nothing.
Cyril exchanged a glance with Charles. "She's been like this since the news broke," he said softly.
