"Did the auditory processors malfunction, Asset?"
The question sliced through the ambient hum of the penthouse air conditioning. Camille sat perfectly still on the white leather sectional, the leash wrapped loosely around her palm, the crystal glass of scotch resting on her knee.
"No, Sovereign," Yanna whispered, her face pressed against the plush carpet.
"Then why is the inventory immobile?"
"The... the joints are seized, Mistress. The neurological signals are experiencing latency."
"Latency is a failure of the network," Camille said, her voice dropping into a smooth, terrifyingly patient register. "When the network fails, the IT department replaces the cables. Do you require Silas to replace your cables, Yanna? Do you want him to cut you open and rewire your spine?"
"No! No, Sovereign. The network is operational."
"Then execute the command. The closet. The boots."
