Page 170 of Salt Between the Wolves

"How tragic."

"Very."

A faint smile tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth before he set his cup aside.

"Shall we?"

Eira followed him from the room.

The house was already awake, and far more awake than she thought any residence should be.

Servants crossed corridors carrying documents rather than trays, while messengers appeared and disappeared with alarming efficiency.

A man carrying three rolled maps nearly collided with them before changing direction at the last moment.

"Sorry, my lord."

Leander nodded, and the man continued running.

Eira watched him go.

"Does anyone walk in this house?"

"Occasionally."

"When?"

"When they're injured."

That sounded entirely plausible.

They climbed several flights of stairs, then another set, and then yet another, until Eira began to suspect the house had ambitions of becoming a mountain.

Eventually, Leander stopped before a heavy wooden door fitted with brass hinges and made of weathered oak. There were no guards, no locks, and nothing particularly dramatic about it.

He pushed it open, and Eira immediately forgot what she had been about to say.

The room occupied nearly the entire floor.

Morning light spilled through tall windows overlooking the harbor and illuminated tables covered with maps—not one map, but dozens of them.

Some stretched across entire walls, while others lay beneath polished glass. Several were weighted flat beneath strange brass instruments she had never seen before.

Shelves climbed from floor to ceiling and held charts, journals, ledgers, and books, while the scent of parchment and salt lingered in the air.

For several moments she simply stood there, completely speechless.

Leander seemed entirely satisfied with this outcome.

"What is all this?"

"The world."

The answer arrived so casually that she almost laughed, but then she realized he wasn't joking.

Slowly, she moved further into the room.

Her eyes traveled across coastlines, mountain ranges, trade routes, and notes written in dozens of different hands. She saw names she had never heard before, names that sounded nothing like Frostvein, nothing like Ironfang, and nothing like home.