When she was a bodyguard, there was a clear order. There was a master, a charge or a client to protect and she either stuck by their side and scared away everyone from potential harassers to possible assassins. Here, however, she was surrounded by equals - theoretically - and that thought made her feel strange. 

Hiding her discomfort, however, Halia was in her room within the complex, examining herself in a mirror and making sure that her appearance was up to the standard she demanded of herself. Her clothes were clean and neatly ironed, her hair was not a mess and her knives were polished to a sheen - not that anyone would see that, but it would still have been improper for her to have her knives rusty. The things that blood did to a blade. 

Checking the pocket watch that was her imperial arm, Halia figured that she had spent enough time in her room. Closing the watch and pocketing it, she headed out and prepared to head throughout the entire monastary, in the order of the laundry river, the kitchens and the general cleaning to see if there was anything she could pitch an extra hand to. Anything she could do to keep herself busy. 

Patience may be a virtue, but idleness bred weakness.