Senna’s POV

The paperwork arrived in a box. I was sitting at the dining room table nibbling on fresh fruit when the servant came in.

It wasn’t a folder or a thin stack of documents tied neatly with ribbon. It was an actual box. It was large enough that the servant carrying it had to brace it both hands. He entered without meeting my eyes and set it carefully on the table in front of me.

“Victor privileges,” he said stiffly. Then he left before I could answer.

The door clicked shut behind him. I set down my fruit and stared at the box for a long time.

It looked...