Halvar raised a cup from further down the table. I returned it. William Hauge, off the rails at last, sat among the border wolves with quieter shoulders than he'd had the week before.
Lucas said something that made him almost smile. The keep absorbed the mountain visitor the way it absorbed most things that weren't on fire: with curiosity, appetite, and a low-level readiness to take offence if offence was offered.
It wasn't.
After the tables thinned I walked Karin to the corridor that led to the guest rooms. She paused at the turn, hand on the stone.
"Your yard's tighter than I expected," she said. "Father thought Frostfang might've gone soft with the borders quiet."
"Father can think what he likes. The yearlings will tell the truth on the ridge tomorrow."
"They will." She tipped her head. "Thanks for not putting me through a formal dinner. I hate formal dinners."
"So do I."
