It's an ungodly hour, but that's the best time for these sort of conversations. The room's not even trapped, the lock a simple thing to get through, and even finessing the sword blade from where it's resting close to her bed? Not so difficult. That weapon he tucks off to the side before perching at the foot of Nerva's bed, head tilted in the dark. He lets the sound of flint and steel striking to light the wick of the nearby lantern wake her.