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 place 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 with one knee drawn up, eating from a plate balanced on her thigh. She had been there long enough to settle into tranquility. She hadn't acknowledged he was awake.
He studied her briefly. Outside, the sky was pale and early. The Scar was faint above the courtyard wall, reading as 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, she didn't ask me anything either, which was the correct choice."
He sat up carefully. The rib responded immediately, 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. The basin beside them held fresh water.
"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 set the plate on the floor beside the window. "Whether Eadric arranged it or someone else acted independently, 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 moved to the table, stopping at the edge. Her eyes wandered on nothing.
"The cook works three other households," she said.
"I know."
"I'm saying it anyway. Whoever made this doesn't consider herself yours."
He considered that while he ate. "We'll change that."
"The list is long."
"Yes."
She sat across from him, elbows forward, and met his gaze directly. "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 located 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," he said.
Aestrith looked at the kit, then at his side. She said nothing.
The basin water was cold from sitting. The old dressings carried their own mineral edge. 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 moved to 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 the previous one, and held his breath when he hit a bad angle.
"Still not worse," Aestrith said.
"Still not worse."
"You react differently than most people," she said. "Most people go sharp with pain. You go still."
He glanced at her. "Noted." He secured the wrap and pulled his shirt back down.
She watched 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," he said. "Most of them are not useful. The ones I marked as possible, I need someone to go speak to them."
Aestrith held it a moment, then turned to him. "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. "I'm your bodyguard."
"Coss isn't moving against me today."
"You don't know that."
"I know they came yesterday to read me and got nothing useful, so now Wulfric is going back to Coss with a question and Coss is going to sit on it while he decides if 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. But I'm not wrong."
Aestrith looked at the names on the marked page for a moment. Then she looked at him. "I agreed to protect you," she said. "Not a... I don't know what you're asking me to be."
"A scout. An assessor. 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 looked at the names more carefully, turning it slightly toward the window light. Her mouth pulled at one side. "How am I supposed to know who's worth keeping? I don't know these people."
"You're a good judge of character."
She raised her head. "How do you know that?"
Beorn held her gaze. "You trusted me."
The room went very quiet.
It lasted several seconds. Her expression slipped briefly, something unguarded, then cleared.
Her eyes flattened as she set her attention back on the page.
"That," she said, "was working with what I had." Her voice stayed flat.
"It was," Beorn said.
"Under pressure."
"Yes."
She turned back to the page. "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."
She gave him something sharp and crossed to the door, paused, and stopped with her hand on the frame.
"Be careful with Eadric," she said.
"I'm always careful."
"You're careful in your way," she said. "Which is not always the same thing."
She left. Her footsteps moved down the corridor, turned, and faded.
Beorn sat for a moment after she left. The table was empty. The water in the basin had gone cool.
Morning light now filled the space, the dust on the shelves sharp in it. He went back to the ledger, the crossed-out names and the short column that might work.
He stood, tucked it under his arm, and left the room.
The corridor to Eadric's office followed the same route as before, through the working section. The floor was worn smooth. The wall sconces were dark in the daylight. The stone carried a cold smell, old air and early morning settling together.
Behind him, through the walls and the courtyard, the front gate opened and closed. Aestrith was out.