Morning in Valenreach arrived without urgency.
The city woke the way it always did. Shops opened. Water carts rolled through the streets. The eastern quarter smelled faintly of damp stone and old canals, familiar enough that no one questioned it.
Pryan dressed without haste.
He had learned long ago that moving quickly only mattered when others were trying to slow you down. Today, they were.
Rysa waited near the stair landing, holding his coat.
"Your cloak, my lord."
He took it. "Thank you."
She did not linger. She did not avert her eyes either. There was something measured in the way she stood, as if she was listening even when no one spoke.
At breakfast, Rennic arrived with a thin stack of papers and a look that suggested the day had already resisted him.
"They sent summaries again," Rennic said quietly. "Not originals."
Pryan flipped through the pages. Dates overlapped where they should not have. Routes were marked as temporarily inaccessible without explanation. Names appeared once and then vanished.
"They are not hiding the problem," Pryan said. "They are hiding the path to it."
Rennic exhaled. "The drainage office?"
Pryan nodded.
Rysa poured tea. Her hand paused briefly when Rennic spoke the word drainage. It was subtle. Pryan noticed.
He said nothing.
The drainage office sat close to the eastern channels, its stone walls darkened by years of moisture. The sign above the entrance looked recently restored, as if someone had decided appearances mattered more than function.
Inside, the air smelled of ink and wet wood.
A clerk stood quickly when Pryan entered, bowing deeper than necessary.
"Lord Gwanar. We were not informed of your visit."
"That is intentional," Pryan replied.
The clerk smiled and gestured them inside.
They were seated in a side room lined with framed maps. Clean drawings. Clear routes. No indication of what happened when those routes failed.
The supervisor arrived moments later, wiping his hands on a cloth.
"I am Overseer Dalm," he said. "How may we assist you?"
"I want access to the lower junctions," Pryan said. "Today."
Dalm nodded immediately. "Of course. For safety, it would need to be guided."
"Access," Pryan repeated. "Not a tour."
The smile thinned.
"The lower gates are sealed by council order," Dalm said. "We cannot open them without approval."
"Then provide the order."
A pause. "The record is archived."
"Fetch it."
Dalm's tone remained calm. "It may take several days."
Several days was exactly the point.
Pryan leaned back slightly. He did not argue.
"Show me the upper channels," he said.
Dalm relaxed. "That can be arranged."
The upper walkways were quiet.
Water moved through the stone channels at a pace that felt wrong. Too restrained. Too careful. Algae clung where flow should have cleared it.
Pryan stopped once and listened.
The sound carried poorly.
Rennic spoke under his breath. "This section was due for clearing last week."
"Work was reassigned," Dalm replied smoothly. "Priorities changed."
They reached a steel gate set into an archway. Fresh bolts. Recent work. Cold air leaked faintly from beyond it.
"This is as far as we go," Dalm said.
Pryan studied the bolts without touching them.
"Who sealed this?" he asked.
"A contracted crew."
"Names?"
"I would need to check."
Pryan nodded once and stepped back.
"We are done for today," he said.
Rennic turned sharply. "My lord?"
"Not here," Pryan replied.
Relief flickered across Dalm's face. It was brief. It was enough.
Back at the residence, Pryan went straight to the smaller study. Rennic followed, still tense.
"They are stalling," Rennic said. "If we wait, the rain will arrive first."
"We will not wait," Pryan said.
He sat and began to write.
Formal requests. Audit notices. Inspection intents. Each copied carefully. Each addressed to a different office.
"They will delay," Rennic said.
"Yes," Pryan replied. "But not everywhere at once."
A soft sound came from the doorway.
Rysa entered, placed water on the desk, and turned to leave.
"Rysa," Pryan said.
She stopped.
"You have seen people go into the tunnels at night."
She did not deny it. "Yes."
"Officials?"
"Some."
"Do they leave?"
"Yes."
"Do others go with them?"
A pause. Then, "Sometimes."
"That is enough," Pryan said.
She bowed and left.
Rennic looked at him. "We should go tonight."
"No," Pryan replied.
Rennic frowned. "Why?"
"Because they are waiting for me to make it simple," Pryan said. "And I will not."
He folded the final letter.
"Send these. Then send one to my father."
Rennic took them and left.
Pryan remained seated.
This was not a battle. It was a system that believed delay could replace responsibility.
Imagine stirred faintly within him, restrained and alert.
Not yet, Pryan thought.
The city had not forced his hand.
But it was trying.