The house learned its new routes faster than Rowan did.
That was what the night proved.
No second pressure came after the south wall. No fresh burst line, no rope laid in the wrong turn, no false worker appearing where bath and cloth crossed, no hand under the rebuilt arch testing whether Grimridge had already grown tired enough to drift back into old habit. The mixed routes held. Stores women crossed with bath women. Kitchen heat went north before it came back south. Hall cloth changed hands twice in one corridor and then vanished into a room Rowan had never written down. Guards rotated with the women instead of ahead of them or behind them by habit. The practical body of the house, which she had spent so long studying, stopped looking like separate functions and started moving like one thing.
Sable felt the change long before anyone named it.
