The next morning, the mansion awakened at a different rhythm. Not calmer, exactly, because calm was far too generous a word for anything involving Arven at that moment. But there was clearer order in the corridors. Servants carried messages to specific destinations, guards were redistributed without the usual confusion, and Ingrivid had placed two trusted men in front of the archive wing before breakfast was even served.
Damon noticed the change when he stepped into the corridor and found a guard standing near the door of his room. The man gave a quick bow, trying not to look for too long at the white hair or at the small bluish marks that still appeared on Damon's neck when he was tired. Damon looked at the guard, then at Ester, who was walking beside him with a medical folder under one arm.
"Did I get an escort too?"
"You got supervision."
"That sounds worse."
"It is worse."
