Page 136 of Salt Between the Wolves

The wind tugged briefly at his coat.

"But Maelin has children."

His voice remained calm.

"Another child on the way."

Eira's anger faded, if only slightly.

Leander continued.

"This house can shelter you."

His gaze returned to hers.

"It cannot become the center of a conflict between Ironfang and Frostvein."

Silence followed.

The statement felt impossible to argue with because it was true, and because somewhere deep down, she had already known it.

Leander watched the realization settle, and then, unexpectedly, his expression softened, not by much, but just enough.

"You need time."

Eira said nothing.

"So does everyone else."

The wind carried the scent of sagewood from somewhere nearby.

For a moment neither moved.

Then Leander began walking again, and for the first time since their conversation had started, Eira found herself wondering whether he had already decided what came next.

They continued walking as the path gradually climbed higher, carrying them away from the estate and toward a ridge overlooking the valley below.

From there, Eira could see far beyond Aldric's lands.

The river wound through the countryside like a silver ribbon, wide enough to carry barges and trade vessels during warmer months, and even now, despite winter's grip, movement remained visible throughout the valley.

A wagon train crawled along the distant road while workers moved between warehouses near the riverbanks, and smoke rose from chimneys scattered across the countryside.

Nothing stood still.

The sight surprised her because Ironfang had always felt permanent and immovable, as though the mountains themselves had decided where people belonged.

This place felt different—alive, changing, and growing in ways she could almost see.

Leander stopped beside the wooden railing overlooking the valley.

For a while, neither spoke before he finally nodded toward the road below.

"What do you see?"

Eira followed his gaze.

"Trade."