Life at the manor had fallen into a steady routine. Each day, Kim and Mira rotated shifts at the gate: one kept watch while the other rested. It was practical as well as frugal, with only trusted guards bound by one rule: no gap in their watch.
Therese often chose those moments to appear. She carried food or drink, sometimes a tray, sometimes only a basket with bread. She insisted it was for the guards, but in truth, it became a quiet ritual she clung to.
Late one morning, Mira handed her spear to Kim as he came to relieve her. "The north wall is quiet," she reported. "The ward flickered once, but it was only a fox. No breach to fear."
Kim nodded. "Good. Go rest."
Therese approached then, carrying a jug of watered wine. "Changing of the guard again?" she asked.
Mira smiled faintly. "Yes. You make it seem like a ceremony."
"Maybe it is," Therese replied. She poured two cups, one for Kim and one for Mira. "I thought it better that you don't drink alone."
