Page 118 of Salt Between the Wolves

"No."

Lyra narrowed her eyes.

"You don't know either."

"I know enough."

"You always say that."

"Because it's usually true."

Their argument continued long after Eira stopped listening, as her attention had drifted elsewhere, toward the movement within the house.

Servants crossed the corridors more frequently than before, additional lanterns appeared in the courtyard below, and several guest rooms that had stood unused during her stay were suddenly opened and aired. Twice she saw stable hands hurrying toward the outer yard.

Nobody appeared alarmed or frightened; instead, the atmosphere felt strangely different, filled with a sense of expectation. The entire household seemed to be listening for something and waiting for its arrival.

By late afternoon, the winter light had begun to fade. The sky beyond the windows softened into pale shades of silver and blue while the first evening lanterns flickered to life throughout the estate.

Eira eventually found Maelin near one of the upper galleries overlooking the western side of the house.

Her sister stood beside an open window, one hand resting unconsciously against the curve of her stomach as she watched the courtyard below.

For a while neither of them spoke, and then Eira moved to stand beside her.

The cold air carried the scent of snow and distant water. Somewhere far beyond the rolling hills, beyond the forests and trade roads, lay the sea, and she could almost imagine she smelled it.

"Should I be worried?"

The question left her before she could reconsider it.

Maelin smiled faintly, not because the question amused her, but because she had expected it.

"That depends on what you're afraid of."

Eira leaned against the stone railing.

"I don't know yet."

The answer felt more honest than she intended.

For several moments Maelin watched the fading horizon before speaking quietly.

"Leander prefers seeing things for himself."

Eira glanced toward her.

"And?"

"And he rarely makes a decision before he does."

The statement felt less like an answer and more like a warning, or perhaps a reassurance; Eira wasn't entirely sure which.

"What kind of man is he?"

Maelin considered the question long enough that Eira began to suspect she might not answer at all.

Finally she said,