The letter from Stonewake had crossed more than a thousand kilometers to tell Iven that a kitchen door now opened the other way.
Asa had drawn the old swing in dotted lines and the new one in dark ink. Beneath the drawing she had written that four people could now carry a hot pot through without anyone apologizing to a wall.
Iven laughed aloud.
Neri put down the timber sample she was examining.
“What?”
He handed her the page.
She read it, looked at the little door and laughed too.
The date at the top was eighty-one days old.
