Neria told Eir that very same night.
She didn't prepare a speech, didn't wait for the perfect moment, and didn't try to soften the news before getting to the point. She simply found her in the kitchen, putting a few things away after dinner, sat down at the table, and waited only until Eir realized that she hadn't come there by accident.
"I'm traveling in three days."
Eir stopped with a mug still in her hand.
"Where to?"
"A rural property north of Hadrin."
The mug was set down on the counter, slowly, the way someone puts down something they might otherwise drop.
"Why?"
"Work."
That word produced a different kind of pause.
Neria watched her mother's face shift from immediate worry into something more careful, the expression of someone who had decided to listen before reacting, even if it cost her.
"What kind of work?"
