The northern house's message arrived mid-afternoon, short and practical. Second small exchange confirmed. One observer to travel with the next minor caravan in three weeks.
No special requests, no elevated risk language. Kaelara read it once, nodded, and sent the formal acceptance before the ink was fully dry. Routine. Low stakes. The temple's quieter rhythm held.
By the time the light started cooling toward evening she found Aiden in the training yard. He was alone, working forms with a practice blade, sweat darkening the back of his shirt. She leaned against a post for a moment, watching, then pushed off and walked out onto the packed earth.
"Old times," she said. "Short match. No weapons. Just hands."
He stopped, turned, and gave her a look that mixed wariness with something sharper. "You sure?"
"I'm sure. First one to pin or force a yield. Winner picks the next round."
