Chapter 15
Benedict’s seventy-fourth birthday took place on the same terrace.
His request.
I suspected symbolism.
I allowed it anyway.
No House Purse.
No games.
No entertainment involving staff.
Just dinner.
At one point he raised his glass.
Everyone tensed.
Old memories.
He smiled.
“I have been informed I’m not allowed to make anyone crawl.”
Some laughter.
Linnea, supervising from the side, called:
“Correct.”
The room laughed harder.
Including Benedict.
That was safe laughter.
Difference.
Then he became serious.
“I confused obedience with respect for too long.”
Silence.
I looked at him.
Public admission.
Rare.
He continued:
“My son corrected me badly.”
I smiled.
“Still correcting you.”
“Unfortunately.”
Then he toasted the staff.
No forced gratitude.
No sentimental speech.
Just acknowledgment.
Better.
Later he asked Linnea to sit for dessert.
She declined.
“I’m working.”
He accepted it.
May you like
That may have been the clearest proof of change all night.
Choice respected.
