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“Then why summon her?”

“Because she will understand what is expected.”

“I understand that you mistake presence for consent,” Beatrix says.

Her voice is deeper than memory, but the directness remains. The Matron with the capped horn turns toward her, ready to punish the interruption.

Zira gestures her back into silence.

“The Council mistakes nothing,” Zira says. “The distinction simply carries no legal weight.”

Beatrix looks at me again.

She sees the position, the house, and the axe I accepted after leaving her. She sees proof of every conclusion my silence allowed her to reach. I could correct them with a few words, but those words would expose the King’s command before the Council that helped enforce it.

Worse, explanation offered under decree would sound like cowardice seeking forgiveness.

I will not ask Beatrix to believe me because the Council has placed her within my reach.

The truth remains mine.

For now.

“You rejected other breeders,” she says to me.

It is not phrased as a question.

“Yes.”

“And now they selected me.”

“Yes.”

“Did you give them my name?”

The chamber waits for my answer.

“No.”

The single word changes nothing visible. Her anger remains. Distrust keeps her shoulders rigid. Yet a fraction of uncertainty enters her gaze, and I know she heard the difference between denial and evasion.

Zira descends from her throne. Her staff touches each step with a measured strike.

“This bond is not punishment,” she says. “House Obsidius retains its standing. Beatrix Ferryman will receive the protection of that house. Any children produced will inherit rank no human could otherwise approach.”

“Protection,” Beatrix repeats.

The word contains enough contempt to draw movement from two Council guards near the pillars.

I shift half a step toward her.

The guards stop.

Beatrix notices. Her eyes narrow, rejecting protection she never requested. I make no attempt to explain the movement.

Zira reaches the chamber floor. “At the formal acknowledgment, Lord Obsidius will offer the breeder’s gift. Acceptance will complete the public declaration.”

“And if I refuse the gift?” Beatrix asks.