The Great Hall was grey with first light when Korrin came in through the east doors with the grey-ribboned box under his arm, and Tallow, who had been at the Register table since the candle-clock, looked up and saw that the Lash had not slept.
It was in his face. It was in the way he held his shoulders, very square, and in the stiff precision of his walk down the length of the hall, as though every flagstone had been laid to be counted. He did not glance at the Chamber. He looked at the Chancery’s clerk, Pieter, who stood at the foot of the table beside the silver tray, and walked straight to him, and set the box on the bare wood with a small definite sound.
“Here,” said Korrin. “Mine.”
The Chamber was not yet seated. Harrow had come in from the Mason’s Yard with his cuffs grey and was counting the chairs under his breath. Pell had come up from the Kitchen with a cloth over her arm and her face set. Ysra stood in the doorway with her back to the frame, counting the people in the hall, and her lips had stopped moving only when Korrin came through. Gaunt had arrived last, and had sat down at his place without speaking to anyone, and his left arm lay on the table in front of him, sound and strong and motionless. Tamsin sat in her chair with her hands folded. Mourner sat behind Tamsin with…
