Marcus Aldridge looked like he had ridden through a hurricane.
His coat was stained with three different colors of mud.
His hair was a disaster.
He walked with the stiffness of a man unaccustomed to spending twelve hours in a saddle.
But when he entered Catarina's private study, his eyes were clear.
Catarina stood up from her desk. She had not slept properly in four days.
Seeing him there, looking disheveled and determined, she felt a tightness in her chest loosen.
"You came," she said softly.
"You asked," Marcus replied. He didn't bow. He winced as he walked toward a chair. "May I? My legs have forgotten how to be legs."
"Please," Catarina said.
She poured him a glass of water from a crystal pitcher. Her hand shook slightly.
Marcus took the glass. He drank it in one long swallow.
He set the glass down. The life coach mode activated instantly.
"Status report," he said. "Give me the ugly version."
