She still wasn’t used to sleeping in her father’s bed. But it was likely the best bed in the North. Huge, even though he’d been small. Always said he wanted to keep rolling and never fall out. He’d had the frame carved by the best shipbuilder in Uffrith, monsters prowling over the wood, and bought the goose-feather mattress for its weight in silver off some Styrian merchant. Other than Rikke, it was probably the thing he was proudest of in the world. Broke his heart to leave it when Black Calder took the city, filled him with joy to find it in one piece when he came back. Always said he’d
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