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"What does it become?"

He hesitates. "A Council problem."

My father again. Always waiting at the edge of every decision.

"You think we should hide it."

He looks around. "I didn't say that."

"It sounds like you are."

His gaze finds me again. He steps closer, lowering his voice. "I'm saying decide whether you're ready for everyone who comes with telling them."

The words return us to Dominion. Influence. Choice. Consequence. He is not ordering me to remain silent. He is placing the entire cost where I can see it.

"And what would you do?" I ask quietly.

"If it were only mine?"

"Yes."

He thinks for a second. "I'd tell my father."

The answer surprises me. "Why?"

"Because he'd listen before deciding I was wrong."

No arrogance. Simple certainty. A kind of trust I cannot imagine carrying so easily. Rhyven studies my face. "Yours wouldn't." It is not a question.

I look toward the carved symbol. "No."

He does not offer sympathy. Thank the gods.

"I think we wait."

"For what?"

"Another ward inspection."

"You want it to happen again?"

I think before I continue. "I want proof that isn't an undocumented map hidden inside a stolen book."

His mouth twitches. "Borrowed."

"Restricted."

"Still borrowed."

I give him a look. "Fine." A pause. "We wait."

The agreement changes something. Not enough to name. Enough to feel. This is no longer my unanswered question. It belongs to both of us.

Tomorrow after evening meal, Rhyven will check officer schedules. I will find the old architectural records Professor Aldren mentioned during our first week. A plan. No impulsive midnight exploration. Professor Vale might almost approve. Almost.

At the end of the aisle, Rhyven stops. "One more thing."

"What?" I ask.