Silas made his way up the entrance steps to Highrose. They were easy to climb, but they were longer than most stairs and the sheer irregularity drew on his attention every time he returned home. There were four white marble stairs, and each had a thin metal mesh secured down the center for the wetter, icier months of the year. Once he reached the top of the stairs he pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped through the open archway into the high ceilings of the main lobby.

The far left and far right walls were each lined with a row of victorian chairs and sofas. A navy carpet with black designs swirled across the marble flooring toward the walls and under the furniture. At the back of the large entryway was a two-person desk for a doorman/security guard pair. On the left of the desk was a door into the stairwell for residential floors and on the right was a hallway and staircase into the common areas.

But the desk was in the back, far across the carpet. Whenever Silas passed through the entrance it always seemed to lack something. The space was rarely used in Highrose outside of major events, though in other clans the entry space decorations reflected minor holidays as well as clan events and other miscellaneous celebrations. Here, it lacked Jack-o-Lanterns in October, cornucopias in November, ornaments of an evergreen tree in December, snowflakes in January, hearts in February. Silas had spent very little time visiting other clans, but it was the only way he had ever seen festive decorations firsthand.

Silas stepped across the navy carpet toward the doorman desk at the back of the entrance. There was only one guardian on duty―an older-looking man with olive skin and dark features named Farah. Once Silas neared, Farah looked up from his paper work and smiled through his neatly trimmed beard. "Welcome back, you two!"

When Silas reached the counter he leaned onto the counter and propped himself up with his elbows. "Thanks for holding the fort down."

"Whose fort did you hold down today? Unless you mean to say that you over-dressed for your own districts." Farah looked toward Arael. "Were you assigned to take over a training course?"

Silas shook his head. "No, I couldn't do that. I covered for Melia today―that looks like a nightmare." Silas motioned toward the half-foot stack of golden folders on the desk.

"I wouldn't put it past Commander to ask you to run training sessions. He wants to you lead, you know. Ah, these?" Farah scribbled something on the page in front of him and slid it into a folder on the right. "There are a lot of injuries from the other day. Most of these are simple, but... Actually, most of these aren't from Highrose. But we have plenty of resources here, so I offered to help."

"That's Highrose for you," Silas cheered.

Farah smiled. "It's things like accessibility changes for the few with limb injuries, ventilation adjustments for the rooms that need to be marked vacant for a while. A few guardians have rodents or fish so those need to be watched until someone else takes temporary custody of them..." He closed the folder and tugged the string around the button to tie the opening shut. Then he gave it a small yet clearly calculated toss onto the growing stack on the right. "There are a handful of room changes due to accessibility constraints so there's the issue of forwarding addresses and more paperwork, yada yada. Most of the pet concerns came first so that's mostly out of the way. At this point it's really just a lot of paperwork to document the rest."

Silas pushed himself upright and away from the desk. "Well, we won't keep you then. We're going for tea on the second floor lounge―I'll be there until six. It would be great to see you if you wanted to take a beverage break between now and then."

"Thank you. Take care."

Silas spun backwards and stepped to the left of the desk. "To the second floor!" He reached for the door handle behind him and faced the stairwell to pull it open.

He climbed the stairs to the second floor, made his way through the door into the hallway, and stepped toward the lounge. He unhooked his hooded cape and, once he reached the seating area, draped it over the back of the chair from a day earlier. Silas propped the tea cabinet below the counter and then turned to Arael. "What kind of tea would you like? I'm into green tea but there are lots of choices in here. Some of these I've never even heard of." He took a deep breath as the tea-scented air from within cabinet rose to his face. Even the scent was enough to tug him from numb exhaustion toward pleasant wakefulness. "Ah, they all smell nice."