"You are, as ever, free and welcome to use your accommodations and position as Councilor however you see fit, provided that it does not include rampant slaughter." With how dry Zander's voice was, it was almost difficult to tell if he was joking--though considering why he'd formed the Council in the first place, it wasn't hard to make an educated guess.
"There is, of course, a maximum capacity that our current location can support at one time, but your inner court--your guard--should not cause undue strain." He tilted his head, considered for a moment, then added thoughtfully. "An...academy might be a little more difficult. But if it cannot be supported here, I would be happy to help you establish something nearby--"
He cut off as they turned a corner and he nearly ran into a streak of red and white heading in the opposite direction. The fledgling vampire squawked and backpedaled, wide eyed as she stared between the two of them. "I--my apologies, Councilor."
Zander's expression softened from surprise to something more like...fond concern. "That's quite alright, Gwen. I should have been paying more attention." He looked from the younger vampire to his companion and back. "Allow me to introduce the Ninth Councilor, Vhargul. Old friend, this is Gwendolyn--"
"Yes, um...thank you. If you'll excuse me, I--I need some air. Sorry." Without waiting for him to finish, Gwen darted around the other two vampires, glancing back over her shoulder once as though she expected them to chase after her.
Zander sighed and shook his head, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Forgive her. As I understand it, her Turning was...quite traumatic. She doesn't exactly trust our kind."