For the first time, his gaze found the window.
Even from this distance, Eira could tell exactly what had happened.
The secret had survived one night, perhaps a day, but no longer.
"What did she say?" Eira asked quietly.
Maelin closed her eyes.
The expression on her face suggested she already knew the answer, and neither woman needed to hear it spoken aloud because they both knew Lyra well enough.
A moment later, the man handed his reins to a waiting stable hand and started toward the house, neither hurried nor angry but moving with the determined stride of someone who intended to have a conversation.
Eira watched him cross the courtyard before looking at her sister.
"Well."
A tired laugh escaped Maelin.
"Well."
Outside, snow continued to fall, while inside the brief peace of the past day quietly came to an end.
The knock came sooner than either of them expected, sounding neither loud nor demanding as it echoed briefly against the door before it opened.
For a moment nobody spoke.
The man from the courtyard paused on the threshold, his gaze moving first to Maelin and then to Eira.
Up close, he looked much as he had from the window. Snow still lingered in the dark hair at his temples, while the journey had left traces of exhaustion beneath his eyes. His cloak was gone now, though he still wore the practical clothes of someone who spent more time outdoors than behind a desk.
He remained silent for several seconds before finally looking at Maelin.
"You let Lyra reach me first."
The accusation sounded entirely familiar.
Maelin folded her arms.
"I had approximately three seconds."
"Three seconds is enough."
"Not with Lyra."
A corner of his mouth lifted, and some of the tension in the room eased, though not entirely.
Finally his attention shifted toward Eira.
For a moment he simply studied her, not rudely or suspiciously, but as though he were trying to understand a puzzle whose existence had only just been revealed.
Then he inclined his head.
"Lady Eira."
The title felt strange after everything.
Eira rose.