The argument did not finish that morning.
Atlas left the question on the table between them and went down to the smithy floor. He worked the bellows for an hour while the apprentices began their forms in the eastern yards. The heat built steady under the iron. He kept his hands busy and his mind on the work.
Lara stayed at the workbench above, re-oiling the same blade she had used the night before. The cloth moved in even strokes. Eli checked the street approaches once and returned without comment.
Clara closed the ledger from the previous day and began the ordinary accounts. The circle did not fracture. It simply carried the unfinished weight the way it carried everything else.
By mid-morning the first watch had turned into the second.
A runner from the eastern posts came hard up the main lane, boots loud on the cobble. He stopped at the smithy door, breathing hard, and asked for the man who lived above with the three women.
