Page 162 of Salt Between the Wolves

The household staff bowed respectfully as they entered, though not deeply or fearfully, and the distinction was becoming increasingly difficult for Eira to ignore.

She lifted her eyes toward the house, toward the countless windows overlooking the sea and the unfamiliar life waiting behind them.

For the first time since leaving her sister’s home, she felt something she had not expected. It was neither fear nor uncertainty, but simple curiosity.

The moment they stepped inside, Eira understood that the house had not been built for display.

It had been built for work.

The entrance hall was spacious, but not grand in the way Frostvein’s estates had always tried to be grand. There was no marble polished for admiration, and no portraits commissioned purely to remind visitors of wealth.

Instead, the space felt lived in, with maps occupying entire walls and shelves holding ledgers, navigation charts, and rolled parchments secured with ribbons of different colors.

Several men crossed the hall carrying stacks of documents, while another emerged from a side room already arguing with someone behind him.

The argument continued as both disappeared down a corridor, and no one seemed particularly alarmed by it.

Eira watched them go.

“This is your home?”

Leander handed his gloves to a waiting servant.

“Most days.”

The answer explained very little.

Before she could ask what he meant, a woman appeared from a nearby doorway.

She was perhaps sixty years old, with silver hair gathered into a severe knot and an expression suggesting she had spent decades correcting other people's mistakes.

The moment she saw Leander, she frowned.

“You’re late.”

Leander sighed.

“I know.”

“You were expected yesterday.”

“I know.”

“The cook threatened to throw away dinner.”

“I doubt that.”

“So do I, but she was very dramatic about it.”

For a few moments they simply looked at one another.

Then the woman stepped forward and embraced him briefly but firmly, as though he were a nephew returning from a long journey rather than one of the most powerful men in the North.

Eira blinked. The woman released him.

“Good. You’re alive.”

“Disappointing, I know.”