"You're late," Seris said dryly.
She stood in front of the door.
"I know," Kael replied, letting the door swing shut behind him.
"You look like you've been dragged through a sandstorm," she said.
"Feels about right," Kael muttered, walking past her. "Also, thanks, Seris. For sending the supplies."
She held his gaze for a moment before giving a small shrug. "You wrote it clearly. I followed the list."
Then she said, "You eat yet?"
"Why do you ask when you already know the answer?"
Seris gave the faintest smile. "I set the table."
He followed her into the back room. The small kitchen behind the shop was lit by a steady oil lamp mounted to the wall. It cast a warm, soft light across the wooden table.
There were two bowls of thick stew still steaming, a plate of flatbread lightly dusted with crushed herbs, and a small dish of red flakes off to the side.
"I kept it warm," she said, motioning to a chair. "Sit."
