Nuvyen listened to Sef's story while every so often looking towards the woods north of their home, eyes narrowing to try and catch a glimpse of anything suspicious. No doubt he would have issues seeing anything out of the ordinary until the Sharran assassins wanted to be revealed; he knew all too well how well trained they were in skulking before their assumed kill (even Shadowheart had gotten the jump on him a couple of times with how quiet her steps could be). While Sef attested that he had made it more than a mile before getting to their home, Nuvyen found it difficult to believe that the Sharrans couldn't catch up to someone wounded and with such an important mission. Wouldn't they have wanted to murder Sef before he could deliver the missive? And wouldn't a priest of Selune, no matter how potentially inexperienced, be able to heal himself enough? Maybe that's how he got to their front step...and yet, he was convinced that Sharran blades inflicted some kind of ailment that didn't permit the victim to be healed of any kind (Gale had called the condition "Bonechilled" and Nuvyen had been on the receiving end of that magic several times in battle; not fun). 

His thoughts on the matter came to a halt as his love looked up to him, handing him the letter and asking for his input. Nuvyen looked over the letter himself, scanning the pages for any discrepancy, but found none. It was moments like these, the very, very rare moments when he wished that they had their telepathic link still intact from their unwelcome cranial guests so he could communicate his doubts. A subtle, hasty frown flashing across his face would have to be enough before he responded:
"It appears you've succeeded on your mission in getting us the missive, for which we're grateful. The least we could do is give you a roof over your head and company that won't try to stab you to death until morning." 
"You would offer me that? A kindness indeed." Sef managed to straight up against the front wall of the house, a grateful smile tainted with what Nuvyen thought was malice flickered. 
"I would be most appreciative. The assassins were not too far behind and if Shadowheart is correct about my bleeding, they could be here sooner than we realize." Those last few words sent a shiver down the Monk's spine, his Ki vibrating in alarm. Something was drastically off, but Sef's exterior self nor his story could be proven as false. He and Shadowheart would have to coax the truth out carefully. Thankfully, he and his partner were adept at this process through experience. 
"Indeed; please, go inside and down the hallway to the second door on your left. You can rest there for a while before you make the trek back to Baldur's gate." 
"I am most grateful. The Moonmaiden bless you." Sef gingerly walked through the front door, Nuvyen closing it behind the priest before waiting a few seconds, then motioned to Shadowheart, taking her in his arms, whispering as quietly as he could:
"Something's off with him. I can play decoy outside with our owlbear friend and meditate, see if I can't detect the assassins before they come and try to discern why my Ki was disturbed so greatly if you want to go inside and survey his actions...or wait out here with me. Won't have much to say to you while I'm meditating unfortunately." A chuckle.
"Unless you can think of a better way to handle this odd and unfortunate interruption to our evening?"