She sat on the kitchen floor.
Not because anything was wrong. Not because she was processing something or the weight of the evening had become too much. She sat on the kitchen floor because the kitchen floor was where she went when something was true and she needed to feel it without the mediation of furniture.
It was past two in the morning.
The apartment was quiet. Serin had left earlier in the evening — she had the Hold's east tower now and preferred to sleep there, which was the final version of what her return had been building toward. Davan was asleep. The city was doing its deepest-hour thing outside.
Nara sat on the floor with her back against the cabinets and held nothing.
He came out at some point.
He didn't ask.
He sat beside her.
That was all.
The specific thing he'd l
