Seren had gone up to her room after they returned from the farmland, the leather pack over one shoulder, the bundle of tools under her arm. She moved quietly.
Darion stood in the courtyard after she went inside and thought about what her days looked like now.
Months in a holding pen in Gonnb. Before that, whatever life she'd had before they took her, he didn't know the details, hadn't asked and hadn't found the right moment.
Now she was in a castle room in a barony she had known only as a dying place, working soil. She was free, he meant that, but free in a way that offered a specific set of options rather than an open one.
He hoped the room was at least better than the box.
He turned and went to find Garren.
He decided to give Gregor a goat. The goat had been his idea, and he'd committed to it before fully examining why.
