She heard a cracking noise from her left and looked over at her charge. He’d put down his quill and was flexing his fingers and neck. Running one hand through his hair, he picked up the sheet sitting before him in the other, and stood up to look it over, holding it up to the morning sunlight streaming in through the glass windowed wall behind him. From Honour’s vantage point, it looked like a blueprint of sorts, though not for anything that looked like a building as far as she could tell.