The answer to Nico Moretti's offer took eleven seconds to deliver and had been decided longer than she wanted to admit.
Sebastian was at his station when she walked in. The war room was quiet — early hour, half the Blades still in their own orbits. She set the sealed envelope on his desk.
He looked at it. Then at her. "Formal channel?"
"Council protocol requires it."
He picked it up. Read the front — Moretti, Nico, Second Son, via Obsidian Council neutral route. Two words inside. She had written them herself. That was the point. Not dictated. Not relayed. Her hand. Her decision.
Sebastian turned the envelope once between his fingers. "Should I log a reason?"
"No."
He held her gaze for one beat. The Serpent's eyes did their usual work — reading angles, reading what she wasn't saying. Then he slid the envelope into the outgoing tray.
"Done," he said.
And that was that.
She walked out of the war room and didn't look back.
***
