The room assigned to Kael lay along the western gallery, two doors from Elira's.
It was larger than his quarters at Blackstone Keep and better appointed than his room at Rathmere. The furniture was dark wood, heavy and fitted to the breadth of the space. A writing desk stood beneath the window, its surface cleared and ready. A wardrobe waited open, garments arranged within—formal wear cut in the same disciplined line Maren's tailor favored, tailored here in finer cloth. The Varyn crest had been stitched into the inner collar, worked in restrained detail, visible only when the fabric shifted.
A manservant waited inside the room. Middle-aged, unhurried, carrying the composure of someone long accustomed to dressing men of rank.
"If you'll allow me, sir."
Kael inclined his head.
