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Anik stopped beside the bed. He looked amused for one split second. “I can return later.”

“No,” Veyr said.

I pointed at Veyr. “He’s supposed to be resting.”

“I am resting.”

“You tried to stand twenty minutes ago.”

“I succeeded.”

“For approximately four seconds.”

“Five.”

Anik looked at him. “You appear recovered.”

Veyr gave me a look.

I smiled sweetly. “See? Medical opinion.”

“I am not a medic,” Anik said.

“You are the Crown. Still counts.”

Anik’s mouth moved. Barely.

Then the moment passed, and his expression changed.

Business.

I sat straighter too.

Veyr noticed and had the decency not to comment.

Anik placed the slate on the small table beside the bed. “I have answers.”

My stomach tightened.

That was all it took. The quiet from yesterday didn’t disappear so much as get pushed aside.

“The termination order?” I asked.

“Yes.” Anik activated the slate, and two records appeared.

The first was familiar—my mission packet, the royal-contact restriction, the termination language.

The second carried a different format. Blue seal. Royal authentication.

Anik looked directly at me.

“Neither I nor my father, King Crencik authorized your termination.”

I had expected the answer. I still needed to hear it.

“You verified it.”

“Yes.”