Neri woke before Iven and let him sleep.
It was unusual enough that, when he finally opened his eyes, he lay still to understand the light. Morning had moved across the west-room wall and reached the edge of her hanging picture. From the smaller room came the sound of a ruler being set down, then the soft scrape of a chair.
He had eaten heavily, slept nearly eight hours and dreamed about nothing he could remember.
His left arm felt like his arm.
He turned onto his back, stretched and smiled at the ceiling.
Neri appeared in the doorway.
“Good?” she asked.
“Yes.”
