Ivy absorbed the praise without letting it show too much—just the faintest straightening of her posture, the smallest shift of her chin upward. Mei’s approval meant something, whether Ivy liked to admit it or not. But she didn’t preen too much. That would be unprofessional. “Of course,” she replied smoothly, her tone giving nothing away. “I’m glad I met expectations.” She didn’t ask too many questions—never did. Mei would tell her what she needed to know, nothing more, nothing less. But still, examining options meant the waters were murkier than she’d like. Their allies were in chaos, and Ivy had little patience for instability. "I trust you have a plan in place." The Network was influential, with deep ties, but if war did begin, Ivy wasn't confident who fearsome they would be compared to the other organizations. Who knew what the future held when the Family was crumbling, and their enemies were circling like vultures? But Mei Lin—Mei—was steady. Calculating. And Ivy trusted her to lead. “Whatever needs to be done,” she said, gaze level, her words carrying weight without unnecessary flourish. “Just say the word.”