She pulled the sheets from the tub, carefully draping them over the banisters of her porch so that the sun and the heat would dry them. With that part of the cleaning finished (however badly), she could focus more inside. There was too much to do, she doubted that it would be finished when night fell.

Thank the Saints for Jon Snow. How did her mother's palazzo remain so clean?

"If they were Greek ruins, I would say they were built by the gods. Maybe there was an older civilization?" Like the fabled walls of Troy. "A secret somewhere in the woods or abandoned homes?"

She handed him a broom, pointing out the places where the webs had collected. Taking a rag for herself, started to dust the furniture, coughing and choking at the sudden cloud that she knocked free.