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“When did you decide you weren’t going to kill me?”
His gaze held mine.
“When the renewed termination instruction arrived.”
I frowned. “That late?”
“I was already questioning the intelligence. I had searched your belongings, questioned you, watched your behavior. Nothing matched the threat profile.”
“But doubt wasn’t refusal.”
“No.”
“And when the order came again?”
“I refused.”
I sat with that. Not because it erased anything. Because it clarified something I had not understood before.
Veyr had not trusted me yet. He had simply decided an order unsupported by truth was no longer enough.
“Okay.”
He watched me, waiting.
I leaned back in the chair. “What don’t we know?”
“I do not know who controls the compromised Veil routing. I do not know whether the corruption begins inside the Veil or whether someone with external authority is using its systems. I do not know whether Sera’n is alive.”
That one hurt. My gaze dropped.
He kept going.
“I do not know which prince investigated the anomalies. I do not know whether his investigation was stopped by the Veil. I do not know how many Ghost identities have been inserted into reproductive data.”
I looked up. “Anything you do know?”
“My status now makes me a target independent of you.”
“That one I figured out.”
His eyes narrowed.
I waited.
He actually thought before answering.
“My ŭre reacts to you more strongly than I have admitted.”
My breath caught.
Of course.
“How strongly?”
His expression went completely neutral. Which meant he hated the question. “I notice you constantly.”
I froze. “Constantly?”
