Eris turned her amber eyes toward Ellyn, who stood so rigid against the wall that his shoulder-blades were digging into the plaster.
"You have good eyes, scholar," she said simply.
The boy's face went the color of a hot coal. His mouth opened and shut twice before he managed to swallow his tongue.
"Th-thank you, Your Majesty." He gripped his leather folder so hard the corners turned to white pulp.
Soren stayed by the door, one large hand resting on the iron latch-pin as if he were thinking of locking them all inside.
"We can go back upstairs, Eris. The boy can spend another week with the sheepskins if you want the frost to clear from the hills first."
Eris turned her head, her look patient and heavy with the weight of days of the same talk. "Soren."
"I'm only saying the western line is quiet today," he muttered, his jaw tightening until the bone showed white through his grey beard. "We have time."
