The light came through the east window first, exactly where it should be.
Beorn lay still after waking, gathering himself before he moved. The fire had gone out during the night, and the room had gone cold the way stone does when nothing feeds it.
The blanket was old but dense. It had done its job. The cold had pressed in at the edges where the blanket ended, and stopped there.
Aestrith sat on the window ledge across the room, one knee drawn up, eating from a plate balanced on her thigh. She had been there long enough to grow quiet in it. She hadn't acknowledged he was awake.
He studied her briefly.
Outside, the sky was pale and early. The Scar hung faint above the courtyard wall, something wrong in the sky itself.
"There's bread," she said, still not looking at him. "And something from the kitchen."
"You've been up for a while."
"Couldn't sleep after dawn." She broke off another piece. "The kitchen was open. Someone was already in it, one of the staff. I didn't ask her name and she didn't ask me anything either."
He sat up carefully. The rib answered at once, a sharp pull that settled into the expected dull pressure once he was upright.
He breathed through it until it eased, then turned to the table.
She had left a plate, a bowl, and a cup. Fresh water waited in the basin beside them.
"Some attendant brought the water up," Aestrith said. "While I was out. It was here when I got back."
"The show is already running, then."
"Apparently someone passed along that the room was occupied." She finished the bread and lowered the plate to the floor beside the window. "Whether Eadric arranged it or not, I can't tell."
Beorn crossed to the table and sat.
The bread was still warm, close enough to smell it. The bowl held softened grain and a portion of cured meat.
He began eating, watching the window.
Aestrith dropped from the ledge and came to the table, stopping at its edge. Her eyes drifted over nothing.
"The cook works three other households."
"I know."
"I'm saying it anyway. Whoever made this doesn't consider herself yours."
He thought on that while he ate.
"We'll change that."
"The list is long."
"Yes."
She sat across from him, elbows forward, meeting his gaze. "So what are we actually doing today?"
Beorn finished the bread, pushed the plate aside, and reached for the pack leaning against the desk. He found the kit inside, the same one she had used on the hardpan two days out, when he had been incapacitated and the dead creature still radiated heat behind her.
He set it on the table.
"Starting with this."
Aestrith looked at the kit, then at his side. She said nothing.
The basin water was cold from sitting. The old bandages carried their own mineral smell.
He began cleaning the wound properly.
It should have been done daily since the attack. Instead, it had been managed while they were moving. Not enough.
The bruising had turned yellow-green, doing what bruising does. The rib resisted every adjustment. He pressed along the bone, checking, then replaced the wrap with better tension than before and held his breath when he found a bad spot.
"Still not worse," Aestrith said.
"Or could be worse."
"You react differently than most people." She watched him steadily. "Most people flinch with pain. You go stiff."
He glanced at her. "Noted."
He secured the wrap and pulled his shirt back down.
She continued watching him without moving. He'd seen that flat, steady focus the first morning on the hardpan. It hadn't changed.
He dried his hands and reached for the ledger. "There are a lot of names on this list and most of them are not useful. The ones I marked as possible, I need someone to go speak to them."
Aestrith took the ledger, held it a moment, then looked up.
"That someone is me."
"You know the city, you read people fast and I can't be in two places."
She leaned back and let out a breath. "A bodyguard should stay with their client."
"Coss isn't moving against me today."
"You don't know that."
"I know they came yesterday to read me and got nothing, so now Wulfric is going back to Coss with a question, and Coss is going to sit on it while he decides whether I'm worth managing or worth removing."
He opened the ledger to the marked page and held it toward her.
"That takes time. While they're still deciding, you're more valuable out in the city than standing behind my chair."
"And if you're wrong."
"Then it's a short reign and a poor ending, and we'll have found that out quickly." He met her eyes. "But I'm not wrong."
Aestrith looked down at the names for a moment, then back at him.
"I agreed to protect you. Not a..." She stopped. "I don't know what you're asking me to be."
"To be someone who can tell me if the names on that list are worth anything before I make decisions based on them."
He paused.
"And yes, also a bodyguard, when the situation calls for it."
She pulled the ledger closer and turned it toward the window light, studying the names more carefully. One side of her mouth tightened.
"How am I supposed to know who's worth keeping? I don't know these people."
"You're a good judge of character."
Her head came up. "How do you know that?"
Beorn shrugged idly.
"You trusted me."
The room went very quiet.
Several seconds passed. Her expression shifted briefly, something unguarded, then cleared.
Her eyes flattened as she lowered them back to the page.
"That was working with what I had." Her voice stayed even.
"It was."
"Under pressure."
"Indeed."
She turned another fraction toward the ledger.
"The warehouse district first."
"Second name in that column is unclear from the list alone. Spend more time on him."
"I know what to do."
"That's why I assigned it to you."
She gave him a sharp look and crossed to the door. At the frame she stopped, hand resting against the stone.
"Be careful with Eadric."
"I'm always careful."
"You're careful in your way." She looked back once with a judging gaze.
She left.
Her footsteps moved down the corridor, turned, and faded.
Beorn sat for a moment after she was gone. The table was empty. The water in the basin had gone cool.
Morning light filled the room now, sharpening the dust on the shelves.
He returned to the ledger, the crossed-out names and the short column that might work.
Then he stood, tucked it under his arm, and left.
The corridor to Eadric's office followed the same route as before, through the working section. The floor was worn smooth. The wall sconces stood dark in the daylight. The stone carried a cold smell, old air and early morning mingling together.
Behind him, through walls and courtyard, the front gate opened and closed.
Aestrith was out.