Page 122 of Zenith Tower

A key entered the outer lock.

I folded the annex closed but did not return it to the packet.

The Council clerk opened the door. One of the visitor stewards stood behind her.

“Lord Ashford left a consultation packet,” she said. “Residents may not retain external papers after a visit. It has to return through visitor records.”

She crossed the room and held out her hand.

I kept one palm over the annex. “The packet was left under Council-seat privilege. You cannot tell me where visitor records will route it after it leaves this room, and I will not return evidence of a Council omission to an unnamed Council office.”

The steward stepped into the room.

“Release the papers, Ashford.”

I slid the Council responses over the annex, hiding Aldric’s signature while leaving the certification on the packet cover visible.

“Call the administrator.”

The clerk reminded me that the consultation had ended.

“My father’s privilege has not. If you seize a certified packet left with the consulted party, he will file the interference before he reaches the far side of the bridge.”

The clerk looked toward the steward. He knew enough about Council seats to hesitate.

My father had spent my childhood teaching me how authority protected itself. I had despised nearly every lesson. I used this one without apology.

“Call her,” I repeated.

The clerk left. The steward remained between me and the door.

I did not touch the papers again.

The third annex page stayed hidden beneath my palm. A heading showed at its upper edge.

Untethered Convergence Controls.

I could not read the body without lifting the responses and showing the steward what I had found.

We waited.

The visitor’s chamber had gone colder since my father left. Gray light reached the edge of the table, catching in the shallow cuts around my nails from the dock work. Somewhere beyond the eastern wall, a cart rolled over uneven stone and a woman called for a door to be held. The page beneath my hand belonged to the hidden machinery below those ordinary sounds.

The administrator arrived with the clerk close behind her.

“Show me the packet certification,” she said.

I removed my hand from the cover but kept the Councilresponses over the annex. The steward watched every movement.

The administrator read my father’s privilege notice and examined the receiving stamp.

“The packet was certified for consultation and left with the named party,” she said. “Visitor records has no grounds to recover it until the privilege expires.”

“The contents list may be incomplete,” the clerk said.

The administrator looked at her. “Why do you believe that?”

The clerk’s gaze moved to my hand.