Roswen summoned Torin to her private office the morning after the Posting.
She hadn't used the Concord's formal notice system. Instead, a runner found him with nothing more than a spoken message.
That alone told him something.
Written notices became part of the Concord's records. Verbal messages did not.
Roswen was meticulous about the difference.
When Torin arrived, she was already waiting.
Her private office was modest, smaller than the records room beside it, and noticeably practical.
Nothing had been arranged to impress visitors.
The documents covering her desk were open because she was actively working through them. A thick ledger rested on a nearby shelf with a ribbon marking the current page. Behind her hung a single map of the eastern territories, plain and unadorned, without the decorative borders and heraldic symbols favored by most officials.
The room reflected its owner perfectly.
Roswen kept only what she needed and discarded everything else.
