But the girl skidded to a stop, breathless, holding the packet out both hands like a sacred object.
"I—I'm sorry, but I was told to deliver this immediately."
"By who?" Atrius asked sharply.
"I… I don't know. It was on the archive table. Marked urgent."
Coren took it.
The seal was wax. Not House-made.
Not Academy-issued.
Personal.
Valenna whispered,
Careful.
Coren cracked the seal and unfolded the paper.
One sentence.
Written in a hand he didn't recognize.
You are not the only one wearing a false name.
We should speak.
—V
Atrius leaned in. "What is it?"
Coren folded the paper. "Nothing important."
Valenna hissed in his ear—approval, but edged.
Good. Do not share that.
Mira pointed aggressively. "That look means it's DEFINITELY important."
Coren didn't respond.
Atrius sighed. "We'll handle one catastrophe at a time." He motioned for them to follow. "No more public displays today. Back to the hall. Quietly."
They walked.
