The kitchen table had rearranged itself sometime before dawn.
Vane came down the stairs already thinking about Pre-Consolidation vocabulary, and found four stacks of notes waiting where his usual clutter should have been — divided, aligned, each stack squared to the edge of the wood like a formation waiting for inspection. He recognized his own handwriting on top of one pile and didn't recognize the order it had been put in.
Mara was at the far end of the table with the estate ledger open in front of her, pen moving in short, certain strokes. She didn't look up. She finished the line she was writing, and only then lifted her eyes.
"You've spent fourteen hours on Strategic Arcana," she said, "and three on Pre-Consolidation. They're weighted equally."
"I know."
"The harder section needs the time. Not the easier one."
"I'm aware, Mara."
"I know you are." She turned the page. "I'm saying it anyway."
