"Lady Valen," he said. "A question for clarity. Are you the one developing the replication-grade protocol for origin signature extraction?"
The corridor went quieter.
Not silent.
But listening.
Amberine's pulse jumped so hard she felt it in her ears.
Elara didn't react like a cornered animal.
She reacted like Elara.
Calm. Precise. Indifferent.
"That statement is not mine to confirm publicly," Elara said. "If you have a formal inquiry, route it through faculty and Council protocol."
The man smiled.
He heard confirmation anyway.
Amberine saw it happen.
A single refusal turned into a yes in the mouths of people who needed a yes.
Count Ken Arbantilus von Valen stood ten paces away.
Not close enough to be part of the conversation.
Close enough to be a gravity well.
His hands were too clean.
He adjusted a ring once.
That was all.
And yet the corridor shifted around him like water around a stone.
Amberine's protective anger flared so fast it surprised her.
