Fenrick had crossed out the word informal. I could still read it beneath the new heading on the request sheet.
Formal paired verification.
The rest of the page described a controlled exchange intended to establish whether my earlier low output had been a deliberate limit. It was a careful way to ask whether I had been pretending to be weaker than I was.
Nobody had asked the more useful question. What if I was weaker than they thought, and pretending was the only thing keeping the request polite?
Veylan laid the sheet beside my retest conditions.
"You asked to see the submission before the decision," he said.
"I did."
Fenrick stood on the other side of the desk. His cloak had been folded over one arm, leaving the signet ring easy to see when he put a hand beside the request. Malcris occupied a chair near the window with a notebook resting on his knee. He hadn't spoken since I entered.
