MAETHYS POV
He slid a folder toward me. “Reports. Supply lines, patrol schedules, repair estimates. Budgets.”
I opened it carefully, like the paper might bite.
It didn’t.
The words were neat, structured. The plans detailed enough to feel like a living thing. Timelines. Projected costs. Notes in the margins that weren’t just numbers—Heather requested more blankets for the clinic. Training grounds fence needs reinforcement before thaw. Wolfsbane perimeter check—weekly.
He wasn’t just thinking about war.
He was thinking about people.
For the next stretch of time, the world narrowed to the desk between us and the rhythm of his voice as he explained. He walked me through it like I mattered—not like I was being tolerated, not like he was humoring me. Like he trusted me with the bones of w
