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“Because I gave Sarveth records proving that exhausted workers were ruining food and injuring themselves.”

“That means yes.”

“It means evidence trapped him inside his own arguments.”

For an instant, Nessa looks pleased. Her real smile appears, weary but familiar.

“You changed a dark elf household with kitchen ledgers,” she says.

“Sarveth changed the schedules. Rhysandir sealed the law.”

“And who made either of them look at the records?”

I fold the decree. “Perrin no longer carries cauldrons.”

“What about the others?” Nessa asks.

“The hearth workers rotate away from the ovens. Injured servants receive different tasks while they recover. Meal periods are written into the schedules now, so an overseer must leave evidence when one is taken away.”

“Must?”

“The schedules are copied into two archives. A human clerk holds one record and a Zagfer clerk holds the other.”

Nessa runs one finger over the Morwen’thir seal without touching it. “A dark elf lord built a law around human complaints.”

“He built it around wasted stores.”

“You still made him see the complaints.”

“I made him see numbers.”

“That is how you have always healed stubborn men. You tell them the result they fear until they swallow the remedy.”

Her voice sounds almost normal. I want to hold the moment in place. Her mouth nearly curves. Then someone calls from the southern row, and fear erases the change.

Nessa’s smile disappears.

Her attention returns to the southern entrance.

“Come inside,” I say. “I can examine you behind the stall.”

“I am not sick.”

“Fear can make a person ill without fever.”

She grips the counter. “I said I can manage.”

The sharpness is wrong for her. So is the way she watches every person passing behind me.

I could force the subject, but the market is too public. A private question asked here becomes six rumors before sunset.

“Fine,” I say. “Help me find rirzed instead.”

Nessa’s head rises. “Why?”

“I used most of my dried stock treating Rhysandir’s side. I need fresh rirzed for muscle salve before the next batch.”

Color drains from her face.