Lya was nearby reading. At the moment there wasn't more interesting stuff to do, and venturing outside might get her forced into something she'd rather not be wearing or into some formality she'd rather not deal with.
Besides, there was nothing wrong with the occasional book. She snapped the dusty tome closed, "You stay there," she told her son, "I've got the door."
He could keep up with his letters, gods know he needed the work. Not that she'd ever admit that to, say, Kaelyn.
She opened the door and grinned, "Will, welcome! Come to check on my tiny prisoner?"