The confirmation came before Marcus reached the first night’s camp outside Delven.Cord handed him a message that had arrived through the fast relay courier Marcus had established before leaving the city. Three words in Sera’s handwriting.She received it.Voss had gotten Yuen Li’s termination communication. The arrangement was ended. The question now was what Voss did with that information and what Marcus did about Voss.He thought about it through the evening meal and into the night.Lydia watched him think without interrupting. She had learned the difference between thinking that needed company and thinking that needed space. This was the second kind.The situation with Voss was genuinely complicated.She had accepted a professional arrangement with a foreign intelligence service. That was serious. It had compromised palace security. It had fed information about Marcus’s movements and decisions to people working against his interests. For those reasons she could not remain as palac

Marcus did not sleep well that night.He lay in the dark thinking about patience. About the kind of intelligence operation that built a visible layer specifically designed to be discovered. That planted a complete explanation that satisfied investigators and closed inquiries before they went deeper.That required understanding human psychology precisely. Investigators who found something comprehensive stopped looking. The satisfaction of a complete answer was its own trap.Whoever built the second layer had counted on that.And they had been almost right.The only reason Marcus kept looking was Brutus. A single name in a payment category that did not match the Ming structure. If Sera had been less thorough. If she had accepted the fourteen fund structures as the complete picture. If the fourth category had been slightly better hidden.Almost right was still wrong. But it was uncomfortably close.In the morning Marcus sent two messages.The first went to Diana in the first realm. Brief

Marcus read through the night.Lydia sat across from him at Dort’s small table. She read alongside him, taking pages as he finished them, saying nothing. Just present. Cord and Fen took turns watching outside. Dort made tea at some point and left it on the table without being asked and then sat quietly in his chair near the desk like someone who had been waiting a very long time to be read and was content to let the reading happen at its own pace.The folder contained everything.The earliest documents were fourteen years old. Written in Alexander’s precise handwriting. Instructions to Dort who had at that point been a mid-level treasury administrator with no particular distinction. Alexander had identified him through some process not explained in the documents and approached him directly.The initial instructions were specific. Dort was to remain in place through whatever political changes occurred. He was to accept positions offered to him by any administration without appearing to

Sera spent four days with Dort’s folder. She emerged from the process looking like someone who had not slept sufficiently but had found what she was looking for and considered the trade worthwhile. She came to the restaurant kitchen on a Thursday evening and spread her analysis across the table with the focused energy of someone ready to deliver something significant. “House Valdren,” Sera began. “Northern territorial nobles. Third tier aristocracy by official standing. Substantial land holdings in three northern provinces. Trade connections extending into six neighboring kingdoms.” She pushed her glasses up. “On paper they are wealthy minor nobles with unremarkable political history.” “And off paper,” Marcus said. “Off paper they have been operating an intelligence and influence network for twenty-three years. Predating the Ming involvement by eleven years. Predating Cassian’s coup by nine years.” Sera pointed to a timeline she had constructed. “They identified instability opport

Three days after the Valdren dismantling Marcus rode back to Callen’s Rest. Alone this time. Not even Lydia. She had looked at him when he told her and understood without asking that this particular conversation required him to arrive as himself with nothing else attached. The morning was cold. Late autumn settling into the eastern road with the particular grey quality that came before the first snow. The farmland on either side had been harvested. Fields stripped back to their essential selves. Nothing hidden under growth. Marcus found that appropriate. Cassian was in his garden when Marcus arrived. Not tending it. Just sitting on the wooden bench near the east wall with a cup of something warm. Looking at the bare beds with the meditative quality of someone who had learned that sitting with emptiness was its own kind of occupation. He looked up when Marcus dismounted. Neither man spoke for a moment. The cold morning held them both in its quiet. “You found Dort,” Cassian said.