By evening, the house had learned enough of its new shape that the corridors no longer felt as if they belonged to Rowan's memory first and Grimridge second.
That did not make them safe. Sable was no longer foolish enough to mistake control for safety, not after the south wall, the arch, the reserve ledgers, the road, and the continuation books had all said the same ugly thing in different hands. What it did change was the feel of movement under the roof. Bath women crossed with stores women. Hall cloth no longer traveled on one arm and one habit. The listed names from the reserve did not vanish into protected corners where fear could grow around them unseen. They moved in sight of one another and in sight of the pack, and the pack had begun answering that visibility with something steadier than confusion.
