*Bael's POV*
The estate has a particular quality two hours before something important.
Purposeful in a way that hums underneath everything, staff moving with the specific efficiency of people who know exactly what needs to happen and in what order.
Mrs. Wen's voice carrying from the main hall in short precise instructions. The sound of a car being brought around and checked. Final confirmations arriving on phones and being answered and filed away.
Bael is already dressed except for his jacket.
He sits in the smaller sitting room off the main hall with his tablet open across his knee, working through a report on the eastern expansion projections that isn't urgent but exists and therefore provides something to do with the next two hours that isn't waiting.
He answers Mrs. Wen's question about the reception schedule without looking up. Confirms the arrival time. Notes the table arrangement she mentions.
The gala is manageable.
