I glanced toward the curtained doorway Rowan had disappeared through.
Silence.
I very carefully folded the map in half, then half again, until it was small enough to slip into the hidden pocket I’d had Rhea sew into the side seam of my dress—a habit born from years of needing places to stash coins, pins, anything that might give me an edge.
The parchment crackled softly as it settled against my hip.
I smoothed my expression and turned another page of the larger book, forcing myself to sit there and read for another twenty minutes.
I didn’t absorb much.
Something about a winter famine and a minor curse that turned birthing water black for three years.
My mind was already three steps ahead, north of the manor, at a river fork and a cluster of trees that might be long dead by now.
Fin
