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I prompt the karasu again.

The clerk records the exchange on the wax board first, marking every pause and change of voice. His stylus moves carefully. When the bird finishes, he copies the message onto parchment.

“Again,” I say.

The karasu repeats the threat a third time.

The clerk compares each line. “The wording is exact, my lord.”

“Mark the woman’s voice as Nessa of Lowtown.”

He adds the name.

“Prepare two copies. One remains in my private archive. The other goes to Sarveth. The wax board stays intact until both copies are verified.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He bows and carries the message into the adjoining clerk’s room.

I read the original transcription.

Every daler. Every measure of interest.

The K’sheng merchant first offered Nessa relief from her debts in exchange for information about Lowtown grievances. He now threatens immediate ruin unless she performs a service whose nature remains concealed.

Varrus favors obligations that appear private until he needs them.

An ordinary K’sheng merchant might destroy a debtor for profit. One supported through Varrus-controlled trade houses can use debt to reach people who would distrust an open approach from a Khuzuth agent.

Nessa provides such a path.

She knows Lowtown’s merchants, supply routes, debts, and household troubles. She is close to Fiona. That proximity may be the reason Varrus selected her, but the message supplies no precise target.

I will not create evidence where none exists.

Chaos crackles across my fingertips.

Cold crawls over the parchment. White frost forms along its edges and begins moving toward the ink. The karasu flaps once on the perch.

I close my hand and restore control.

The frost stops. It melts into small beads that darken the outer margin without touching the words.

Anger is useful only when directed.

The threat reaches beyond Nessa’s debt. It attacks Fiona’s foundation in Lowtown.

Varrus cannot easily undermine Fiona inside Morwen’thir Stronghold without challenging my authority. Lowtown is less protected. Its residents remain vulnerable to merchants, levies, shortages, and private agreements that appear separate from noble politics.

If Nessa loses her stall and rooms, Fiona loses more than a friend.

Lowtown loses someone who keeps market records and understands its debts. Fear will spread through the people who trusted Fiona’s marriage to provide protection. They may decide that association with House Morwen’thir has made them visible to enemies they cannot resist.

Varrus may want that conclusion.

I reach carefully toward the connection between Fiona and me.

She is elsewhere within the stronghold. Distance reduces her presence to a faint warmth and the impression of concentrated effort. She has not heard the karasu’s message.