"It must be..." Raju's hands move without his attention, the motions of grinding dandelion root for tea practised enough that his gaze can unfocus as he tries to place what he remembers onto some kind of time frame. Fitzjames is asking it mostly of Francis, Raju assumes, but Raju knows the answer to that as well as Francis does.

"You," he focuses briefly on Francis, "moved out of that... I always forget the word, that ice house of yours a while after I arrived, which must have been... early winter? You settled in here a couple months after after we met, and I hadn't been here long at all then.

"It's hard to be sure," he says, to Fitzjames now. "Keeping track of the days is a good deal harder without any schedule. But it's coming on Winter again, according to him, so it must have been a while now. What made you stay in this one, Francis? I don't think I've ever asked."