On the table near the window there was food. Proper food, more than enough of it, bread and fruit and cooked meat still warm and a pot of broth that Sera had instructed the kitchen to make specifically for someone whose body needed rebuilding rather than just feeding. Water and tea and juice and more than she could eat in one sitting because I wanted her to understand that there would always be more, that the concept of running out did not exist in this room.
Along the far wall the staff had done exactly what I'd asked. The wardrobe was full. Not with one or two practical sets of clothing but with enough that she would not wear the same thing twice in two weeks if she chose not to. Day clothes and warmer things for the colder mornings and softer things for evenings and all of it in her si
