Good. [Carlisle smiles a hair, his nervousness mixed with genuine relief, but maintains his gaze on Lance, as well as the compulsion itself. He holds his influence just a few seconds longer than before, pushing his pupil to keep concentrating. He relinquishes it as he stifles another cough, unable to hold it without his own attention. He could have phenomenal control over individuals, it's true, but his curse wouldn't allow it even if his morals would.]

I was not looking forward to commanding you to put your clothes back on once you got to your drawers, but I felt that was harmless enough. Though, in all fairness, there are some who would shed their clothing without a second thought, you do not strike me as the type to do so.