Wren
I didn't set out to eavesdrop. I set out with a tray.
That was the bitter little joke of it, later. I woke early, and the kitchen told me the whole house had barely slept, Berta muttering over a mountain of breakfast, four plates' worth of crumbs already cleared from the small table, and I thought, they were up all night, whatever ally business this is, and I did the thing I do. I made a tray. Coffee, honey rolls, the good cups. I carried kindness down the hall to the study on my own two hands, and that is how I came to be standing outside the heavy door when the voices inside stopped being a murmur.
The door was open two inches. I raised my hand to knock.
"...safer if she's not here for it." Darius. Low, tired, certain.
My hand stopped in the air.
"Agreed. The timing's the only
