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“No,” she said, holding his gaze. “Apparently I don't.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Kesta turned to Pela instead. “How many infirmary shifts before my work covers my allocation?”

“Three full cycles, assuming Sera confirms usefulness.”

Sera made a thoughtful sound.

Kesta looked at her.

“You enjoy power far too much.”

“Immensely.”

“Three cycles,” Kesta said. “Then my ration comes off his.”

Dreven opened his mouth.

She lifted a hand. “My work. My ration. I am not telling you what to do with yours after that.”

His jaw remained tight for another moment.

Then he inclined his head.

“Agreed.”

The exchange should not have pleased her.

It did.

Not because she had won.

Because neither of them had.

They had simply reached an answer they could both live with.

Pela entered the agreement before either could reconsider.

The council moved through the remaining terms more quickly. Kesta’s limited protection would be reviewed after three work cycles. She could move freely through the infirmary district, food hall, school lanes, lower cistern, memorial wall and public market. Restricted maintenance areas would be marked rather than guarded specifically against her. The outer wall and gates required notice because leaving affected patrol resources, but Dreven agreed that notice did not mean permission.

He clearly hated that clause.

Kesta could live with his hatred.

The metal-capped elder could not.

“Protection without obedience invites challenge,” he said, the metal sheath over his horn catching the room’s weak light as he turned toward Dreven. “If Red Basin believes you cannot control your own claim, Rath will test you.”

Dreven did not look at Kesta.

“Then Rath may test me.”

“You would risk Ash Camp over one woman?”

Dreven’s tail stopped moving.

The entire room seemed to feel the change.