“Exterior inventory,” Maren said. “Northern storage annexes. You’re supervising.”
Wren looked up from the supply log. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Full day.” Maren set the assignment sheet on the prep table without looking at it. “Edric signed it this morning.”
The form was ordinary in every visible way: location, task, assigned supervisor, expected duration. Everything printed in the usual administrative register that made punishment look like scheduling. Wren read it in twelve seconds, noted the start time — seven a.m., before dawn in December — and set it back on the table.
“The annexes haven’t had a full winter count in eighteen months,” she said.
“I know.”
“It’s supposed to reach minus fourteen tomorrow.”
“I know that too.” Maren turned back to the stock. “I would tell you to dress in la
