Page 116 of Given to the Black King

“No.”

The boy looks offended on behalf of arithmetic.

Iona taps the seals.

“Meren, Tal, and Voss. Three coast houses. They financed letters against revenue they do not control yet. Osk promised them the north road after he took the hold.”

Callas says nothing.

Iona lays the three coast notes beside the signed order taken from the garden sergeant. Perr opens Callas’s document case and removes the annex docket, its seal register, and a folded covering slip.

The docket lists two packets under one negotiation number. One marked for the black-country crown. One marked only northern alternative. Both were assigned Serathi seal wax before the delegation left.

Perr sets his finger beside the paired entries. “You taught me to index alternate instruments this way. The second red stroke means only one form is meant to survive.”

The covering slip bears Speaker Reth’s seal. Its language is careful: retain both forms until northern succession is determined.

Callas sees the words and looks toward the fire.

Iona turns the register toward him. “What did you know?”

“I knew the committee wanted contingencies.”

“The garden order carries Osk’s seal. Three coast houses issued promises against the same revenue. Your register reserves wax for two marriage contracts.” She places each piece in a straight line. “This is no longer one clerk’s interpretation.”

Callas rubs both palms down the front of his coat. “I did not arrange the attack.”

“No,” Iona says. “They arranged for you to carry every document that makes the scheme look ministerial. If Osk wins, you authenticate his marriage. If he loses, Speaker Reth points to your seals and calls you the architect.”

Callas looks at the covering slip again.

I step close enough that he has to lift his head. “An incomplete confession travels with every copy. Your silence will be marked beside it.”

His breathing changes. He is calculating. The scent of remorse never comes.

“Names,” Iona says.

He gives them. Speaker Reth. The three coast houses. Two eastern councillors with land claims on the north road.

Perr writes every one.

“Did they tell you to delay the treaty?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Until we knew whether Osk could force better terms.”

“And if he won?”

Callas stares at the two seal entries. “The contract naming Torgan would have been destroyed.”

Iona’s fingers flatten over the fraudulent notes. “Who was named in the other?”

“Osk. It would have bound you to him if he took the hold.”

My claws punch through the edge of the map table.