"I want to leave the mansion."
Peter blinked as if Rafael had asked for cookies and adjusted his cuffs as if preparing himself to deliver an unpleasant truth with proper etiquette.
"That would be unadvisable," he said in an eerily calm tone. Then, after a fraction of a pause, "if not outright insane."
Rafael arched a brow. "Charming. Elaborate."
"You are the mate," Peter continued calmly, "of the man responsible for personally decapitating political aspirations, rebellions, dynasties, and, occasionally, actual people. There are entire noble houses who would sell their fortunes for a chance at you. There are governments that would call it a strategic opportunity. There are criminals who would consider you a divine chance at revenge."
He offered a very polite smile.
"You are… an event, my lord. Outside these walls, that makes you a target."
Rafael dragged a hand through his light brown hair, frustration slipping into his posture at last.
"Well… I can risk…"
"No."
