Eadric had moved from the ceremony of assumption to the dispatch timeline to the accounts, and his voice carried the steady rhythm of a man working through a long list with no expectation of interruption.
Beorn looked up from the ledger. The numbers in front of him formed a story, but not one he trusted yet.
"Where am I sleeping tonight?"
Eadric paused just long enough to shift course. "The primary chambers are in the east wing, my lord. It's the appropriate location. I can have them prepared by this evening."
Beorn considered that. If the room needed preparation, then it was not currently usable.
"What does prepared mean?"
"The chambers haven't seen regular use," Eadric replied. His hands remained folded and still. "They need attention before they're suitable. Fresh linens. Air circulated through them. The hearth checked and made functional."
So not maintained. Possibly neglected.
Beorn kept his eyes on the page, though he was no longer reading it. "How long since anyone stayed there?"
Eadric answered with formality, but not precision. "The previous representative chose to operate from the city, my lord."
That avoided the question.
"And the one before that."
"Also based in the city."
Beorn set the quill down. Interesting.
"So the last time anyone actually lived in the east wing?"
A brief hesitation. In the candlelight Eadric's expression softened for an instant, not enough to hide that he was choosing his words carefully.
"I'd need to consult the records for an exact date, my lord."
"Roughly."
Eadric committed only as far as necessary. "Several years."
Long enough for bureaucracy to rot at the edges. Long enough for problems to settle in unnoticed.
Neither of them spoke.
Beorn picked the quill up again. He reviewed what he had written, added another line, then stopped.
Aestrith still stood by the window. Either she saw something outside, or she wanted it to appear that way. The light had faded while they talked. Evening had flattened into a dull grey.
"Security," Beorn said. "Inside these walls. Who handles it."
Eadric leaned back slightly, returning to firmer ground. "There's a post at the outer gate, as you saw. Day-to-day security falls to the city garrison, my lord."
Beorn held his gaze on him. "The garrison I walked through this afternoon."
Something flickered across Eadric's face, then vanished. "They've had difficulties with staffing and command continuity. I won't deny that. But the arrangement has been adequate for the citadel's needs."
Adequate depended entirely on what had been asked of it.
"What needs."
Eadric blinked once. "I'm sorry?"
"What situations have required the garrison to respond inside this seat?"
Eadric began to answer, stopped, and began again. The ease returned a moment too late.
"There hasn't been cause for that, my lord. The citadel functions as an administrative center."
"Right."
Beorn turned the page. The old paper rasped loudly through the quiet room.
"So the security hasn't been tested."
"The territory hasn't required it."
Which meant there was no proof it would hold under pressure.
"How many people are actually employed here?"
The question reached Eadric before he could prepare for it. He processed it without showing much outwardly.
"There are individuals maintaining operations," he said. "Household staff, attendants, an archivist."
Not a number.
"How many."
Another pause. Different this time. Less polished.
"The arrangements vary, my lord. Some are formally employed. Others less so."
That introduced a second problem.
"What does less so mean?"
"Some roles are shared with other functions." Eadric shifted slightly in his chair. "The cook also serves the administrative offices. The senior attendant oversees multiple sections. Some here, some in other households."
Beorn lifted his eyes from the ledger. "So they work here part time."
"They work here as needed."
Unfixed schedules. Split loyalties. No clean chain of command.
"Who do they report to?"
The longest silence yet.
The room sharpened around it. The faint smell of heated wax from the candles. The distant emptiness beyond the corridor walls.
"To my office," Eadric said at last. "Primarily. For daily matters."
Primarily was not the same as entirely.
Beorn closed the ledger across his knee and left it shut. The problem had shifted from accounts to structure.
Now he could hear the building itself. The silence in the corridor. The deeper silence beyond that. Too much empty space. The kind of place where footsteps carried, and where missing people would carry just as far.
"How many people in this seat right now," Beorn asked, "know who I am and who they report to."
A short silence followed.
Beorn looked directly at Eadric.
"I'll compile a full account," Eadric said. "Everyone present, with their roles and terms. You'll have a complete picture."
Correct answer. Too slow.
"Tonight."
Eadric's hands shifted apart slightly on the desk. A small crack in his control.
"My lord, it's already late."
"Tonight," Beorn repeated. "I want a list of everyone currently in this building. Their names, their function, and whether they were here yesterday."
Eadric adjusted quickly. "Yes, my lord." His voice remained even. "Is there a specific concern?"
Beorn answered without hesitation.
"I'm sleeping in a building I don't understand, with people who don't formally answer to me, working under arrangements with other households, protected by security that has never been tested." He set the quill down beside the ledger. "That's the concern."
Eadric said nothing.
"After the inventory, we restructure," Beorn continued. The order of it took shape as he spoke. "Everyone here answers to me. Anyone with obligations elsewhere works elsewhere. Anyone inside these walls after dark is here for a reason I know."
He met Eadric's eyes.
"We start there. The building comes first."
Eadric absorbed that in silence. He went completely still, as though weighing limits against consequences.
"Of course, my lord," he said at last. The words were exact.
Aestrith turned from the window toward the door.
A knock followed immediately after. Short. Sharp.
Eadric glanced toward it. Beorn kept his attention on the closed ledger, though he followed the sequence carefully.
The door opened without waiting for permission.
Two men entered first. They stopped just inside the room, turning back toward the corridor in an unmistakable guard posture.
A third man came in between them.
Beorn measured him quickly. Well dressed. Expensive fabric. Properly fitted. Nothing excessive. The sort of confidence that did not need display.
The man looked to Eadric first. A brief check. Eadric's hands moved once, then became still again.
Then the man's attention shifted to Beorn. He held the gaze for a moment.
Finally his eyes moved to Aestrith by the window.
They remained there longer.