The rest of the morning belonged to ordinary things.
I walked the stores with the kitchen lead and argued about salt use until we both lost. I sat with Anders over a border map that didn't require a decision, only attention.
I watched a group of children copy wolf-forms in the lower yard under a patient older woman who corrected their footwork with a stick and a lot of repetition. Nobody asked me about coastal freighters. Nobody put a crisis in my hand.
Magnus found me near midday in the small solar with a heel of cheese and a look that meant he'd already heard about the yard.
"William Hauge," he said, and sat on the edge of the table.
"William Hauge."
"Johan wanted to knock him into the snow himself."
"Johan can take a number." I accepted the cheese. "He's not bad. He's just nineteen and loud inside his own head."
"You were nineteen and loud inside your own head."
"I still am. I just have better furniture."
