Felix flashes him a smile from under the hood. “No ward could hold her. You can summon and bind a lesser daedra to your will, but when you stand before a Prince, your best protection is not to anger her.”

He gestures to the other side of the mat. There’s plenty of space, and not that much paraphernalia, actually: besides the books and knife, a pair of small soul gems, the dregs of a bowl of grey salts with the scent of ozone. “Before we call on her, you should know something of her nature.”

And whispering together in the darkness is the very best way to pass this knowledge on.