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Morning in Dawn House did not care that blood had been spilled in a hidden district only hours earlier.
Servants still rose. Floors still had to be cleaned. Water still had to be heated. Bread still had to be cut. People still needed to be fed.
That was one of the things Sekhmet had slowly begun to understand about building power. Real houses did not stop being houses simply because danger increased. If anything, they became more disciplined. Panic belonged to weak places. Routine, properly sharpened, became armor.
He had slept very little. Not because he could not.
Because the game with Mihos, Eyra's message, Seraphiel's departure, the first night hunt with lily, and the movement of his own growing forces had left too much alive in his head to let rest sink deeply.
Still, when morning came, he was already awake.
