"That won't be necessary, my Lord," responds the elder beside Dove. She lets out a soft breath, grateful for his intervention. She'd... rather not address it, but does nod toward a younger angel boy by the door who timidly offers to guide Zaveid to the nearest accommodation.

The boy will lead him to a room, simple and airy, but clearly of extremely high tastes, even down to the cords that tie back the curtains. Through the window are he gardens, vast and luxurious and brimming with living Light.