Declan didn't care for February. Neither he nor Kenna knew enough magic to keep their house as warm as they'd like, and the snow in the slums was always dirty. He often entered the printshop before the sun rose and left it before it set. Most of the romance books he read were set in the summer, during the Season, so even his escapism was tinged with an element of frustration.

But the printer was running and he had just finished carefully resorting one of the letter trays with letters they'd used from an earlier job. He had a block to carve. It would maybe be a good day. He needed a new knife for carving, and was on his way into Tess' office to fish around for one, when he nearly collided with Sage.

"S'alright," he said, taking a half-step back. He didn't move to pick up her paper, because she was already bent for it — and because papers were often private. "Everything all right up there?"

By everything, he meant Maggie.