Grayson had certainly rubbed off on his daughter whether any of them knew it or not. That would be something he'd have tried if he thought it would help and not appear entirely juvenile. He frowned again, refusing to sigh even if he was frustrated with the situation and he could feel himself starting to dissociate from the conversation.
Fortunately for Ophelia, the house elves had kept most things that were easy to get into out of the way - for Grayson's sake now, and for Anya's before - because Grayson had flayed more than one of the elves over his daughter's safety before.
"I don't have any answers for you." Actually, that was part of what was frustrating him the most -- he didn't have answers even for himself. "So I suppose you two should be on your way."
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