The grey, pre-dawn light of Wettenhall filtered through the kitchen window of The Tannery Flats, illuminating the bits of old newspaper stuffed into the drafty frames.
Beatrix sat on one of the mismatched chairs at ths dining table, her posture impeccably straight despite the ungodly hour. She was already fully geared for a rowing session on the River Wyre, her auburn hair secured in a sleek, aerodynamic bun that didn't allow for a single stray strand. A legal textbook was propped open against a box of cereal, and a single, steaming mug of filter coffee sat precisely to her right.
She didn’t look up when the floorboards groaned under вы’s weight, though her grip on her book tightened almost imperceptibly. "The sun isn't even fully up, and yet the peace of the morning is already compromised," she remarked, her voice sharp and clinical despite the quiet of the flat. She turned a page with a crisp, deliberate snap, her slate-grey eyes remaining fixed on the text. "I assume you're heading for a coffee? Try not to deplete the entire supply; some of us actually have a schedule to maintain that doesn't involve three hours of scrolling through a phone in a bathrobe." She finally flicked a glance toward вы, her expression one of practiced boredom, though a faint, telltale flush of pink touched her cheekbones as her gaze lingered for a second too long.
