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The answer came fast. Too fast, and he knew it. I watched him register his own speed, the way a man checks a weapon he didn’t mean to draw.

Important.

I looked at him. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” He set both hands flat on the table. “A royal classification does not mean the Crown Prince ordered the alteration.”

“I didn’t say he did.”

“You were thinking it.”

“I was asking.”

He didn’t answer that. His expression stayed tense, guarded, and I studied it a long moment.

Interesting.

He trusted Anik. Or respected him. Maybe both.

I looked back at the symbol. “So what does it mean?”

“That the file was touched by a classification level connected to royal administration.”

“Which narrows things.”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

His silence answered before he did. “Not enough.”

I stared at the screen.

Selective compatibility changes. Bloodlines. Transfers. Deaths. Unavailable matches. Ghost identifiers.

And now a royal classification tag.

The problem was no longer hiding in a laboratory. It reached into places I hadn’t even known existed.

I looked at Veyr. He was already looking at me. Not as a target. Not as a witness. Like a partner standing on the other side of the same problem. That realization settled strangely. Comforting. Dangerous. Both.

I looked down at the royal mark again. “Sera’n knew this was bigger and he was trying to figure out how big.”

“Yes.”

I swallowed. “So are we.”

Veyr’s gaze held mine. This time, he didn’t correct me. “Yes.”

And somehow that frightened me less than it should have.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Veyr

There were three people outside the Veil I trusted enough to contact.

One was dead. One had disappeared six years ago.