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Britain smiled lightly. Despite Cyro making it seem like he was only asking because he was requested to do so, Britain could feel how genuinely concerned he was. "I'm fine, Cyro," she responded with her cracked voice.

Cyro nodded his head. "Your voice won't get any better unless you finish the tea like your father told you to," he reminded her, causing Britain to laugh at his slightly chastising tone.

Britain took a sip of the tea, letting it nourish her dry and strained throat. "Thank you, Cyro."Cyro responded with one of his curt and polite nods before returning his attention back to the road. "Cyro," Britain called for his attention once more. This was the most conversation Britain and Cyro had ever shared. He was usually so stern and uninterested in any conversation if it didn't involve someone's safety. Britain was going to respect his boundaries instead of being her usual talkative and bubbly self. She didn't want Cyro to regret sharing more words with her than his usual four words a day.

"Yes, Ms. Demings?" Cyro responded.

"Will you be going to Italy with Priest?" she asked, wondering what else would be changing once Priest left.

Cyro once more, shifted his eyes between the road and the rear-view mirror to lock eyes with Britain. He shook his head."I volunteered to be with him full time, but he didn't think that was best. I'm staying here for you and Ms. Barrette," Cyro enlightened her. He made her seem as though she was such a pertinent factor in him staying behind in New York. She understood Jazzy being of importance, but the consideration of her was a bit questionable.

Britain chuckled lightly before scoffing. "Trust me, Cyro. I don't think you'll need to guard me much longer.” She was being realistic with herself. Priest's life was a lot different from hers. Without him around, she didn't think she needed security. These days, it seemed like anyone who came for her really had the intentions of coming for Priest.

Cyro shook his head. "He made it clear, Ms. Demings. You require more security than Ms. Barrette," he enlightened her with the direct orders from Priest.

Britain furrowed her brows, wondering why Priest thought that would be the case. She decided to opt out of questioning Cyro any longer. Priest was the only one who had all the answers to her questions.She managed to finish her tea over the duration of the drive. Her voice hadn't returned completely; however, it was less coarse. Upon arriving at the courthouse, her eyes widened at the number of reporters and photographers cluttering the premises. It seemed as though the attention on Priest had not only doubled but tripled.

Britain just knew it was going to be hell trying to bypass them. Today, Priest's security opted on a different approach of entrance. If they had stopped the cars right in front of the courthouse like they usually would, the vehicles would’ve been bombarded and flooded by reporters and cameras. Priest felt it would’ve been best if they went through the parking garage and made their way around.

Priest leaned against the SUV he had ridden in from the penthouse, awaiting Britain's arrival. He knew if Britain wasn'tcoming, Cyro would have already contacted him with the news, but things were still up in the air with her.

A decision about their relationship had yet to be set in stone, and that was a lot to bear. Even Priest, who was typically the confrontational one, wanted to avoid the heavy conversation at all costs. He knew that after today, things were going to have to unfold and solve themselves. He only had four days left in New York, and he didn't want to spend the rest of his time being on bad terms with Britain.

At the sight of Cyro entering the parking garage, Priest let out a relieved sigh. "She wouldn't have missed this," Kaymen said to Priest with an encouraging squeeze of his shoulder.

Priest nodded his head as he began making his way over to the vehicle. Cyro stepped out, going around to assist Britain out of the car. Upon exiting the vehicle, her umber eyes locked with Priest's.

Almost immediately, he could pinpoint each and every emotion she barricaded within herself to keep a brave face. Even the light smile she had etched on her face wasn't convincing enough to distract him from the sadness that webbed within her orbs. He felt his heart puncture in pain at the sight of her. Her only choice was to keep it together and be okay, nothing in between.

"You ready?" she asked in a faint voice as she placed her hand in his.

Setting her sights on him without wanting to burst into a fit of tears was a bit challenging, but she kept her emotions at bay. As always, he looked as suave and debonair as ever. He kept it classic with a double-breasted Tom Ford number. Instead of his usual navy-blue go-to, he sided with an eye-catching steel grey. He paired the suit with a set of black Italian leather loafers and refrained from lacing his neck with any chains. The only piece of jewelry he wore was his Richard Mille watch. Unlike his otherwatches, which were all drenched in diamonds, his Richard Mille remained without any extra ice, yet it still managed to be a conversation piece due to how expensive it was.

Priest immediately pulled her into an embrace that she wasn't sure she needed until it was given. The tightness in both of their chests seemed to be alleviated as they wrapped their arms around each other. The embrace gave them both the reassurance that things were going to be okay.

"Yeah," he breathed. "I'm ready.”

Britain okayed him as he secured her hand in his, and they were led by Cyro to J'Ru, Kaymen and the rest of the security.

With a wall of guards surrounding them, they began making their way to the entrance of the courthouse. "Britain, I know–" Priest began, but he was quickly interrupted by her.

"I know you can see it, but other people can't, so let's please just get through this," Britain suggested, referring to the battlefield of emotions she was masking with a face of makeup. Her voice cracked briefly before she sealed her lips shut.

His dark orbs glanced down at her, sympathizing with the pain she felt. He respected her boundaries and didn't draw any attention to her feelings. They walked hand in hand, not saying a word to each other.

Before they were bombarded by the media, they were able to meet with Priest's lawyer, Abraham. Priest was advised not to answer any questions that were being thrown at him all at once. It was just wiser not to give any information up until after the trial was settled.They halted their walking, and everyone took a deep breath, preparing themselves for the lion’s den they were about to walk into. Instantly, a smile panned out on Priest's face as his posture straightened.Encouragingly, Britain brushed her thumb over his knuckles, indicating that he was going to be alright. With a nod, he gave everyone the okay to proceed.

As they approached the entrance, cameras and reporters came sprinting in their direction. Priest secured his hand at the small of Britain's back, ensuring that she wasn't flustered by the commotion.She took steady breaths, tuning out the abrasive shouting. Now only hearing white noise, she kept her head down and away from any cameras as she walked alongside him. As advised, he kept his mouth shut. He no longer needed to play his usual cat and mouse game with the media.

With the protection from security, they were able to enter the courthouse untouched. Everyone exhaled a heavy breath, relieved that they didn't have to push through the mob of news reporters until the trial was over.

"You okay?" he questioned Britain with worried eyes.

She nodded her head as she averted her eyes up at him. "I'm okay," she quietly assured him.Priest sighed lightly before nodding his head and then was pulled aside by Abraham, who needed to go over a few things with him before they entered their assigned courtroom.

Britain stood a few feet behind, eyeing him as he listened to what Abraham was saying. "How'd you take it?" she heard someone beside her ask. Pulling her orbs from Priest, she was surprised to see it was J'Ru who was engaging in conversation with her.

"Take what?" Britain asked. At the sound of her own voice, she sheepishly cleared her throat in hopes of making it sound better.