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I grind the first measure with cold water. The mortar releases a sharp, bitter scent. The root fibers resist, so I add coarse mineral salt and crush them until the mixture becomes a thick green paste.

“More water,” I say.

Briar pours from the storage jar while I stir.

The paste loosens. I strain it through linen, twist the cloth, and collect the dark liquid in the covered bowl. The first pressing is weak. I return the fibers to the mortar, add fresh roots, and grind again.

My shoulders burn from the effort. Sweat gathers beneath my hair despite the cold room. Feverish concentration narrows my world to the weight of each root, the color of the liquid, and the time between remembered breaths.

“My Lady.”

Joran’s voice comes from the doorway.

I do not look up. “Are the gates sealed?”

“The inner gates remain barred. Morwen’thir guards hold every private stair and wall passage. The King’s Guard has established a watch in the outer ward but has made no second attempt to enter.”

“Varrus?”

“Outside the inner keep. Angry enough to make his location obvious.”

“Keep him there.”

“That is my intention.”

I tip another measure of liquid through the linen. “The bought flowers are numiscu. Preserve them with the salve.”

“Already ordered.”

“The stall?”

“The covert guard has returned to Lowtown. He is tracing the merchant’s wagons and every rider connected to the rear entrance. Two trusted soldiers are securing the seller’s mark, market records, and any surviving herb stock. Another is watching Nessa until we can question her without exposing her family.”

“No threats against her.”

“None.”

I finally look at him. “She was coerced.”

“The evidence will decide what she did. Your order decides how my soldiers treat her before then.”

“Then treat her as frightened, not guilty.”

Joran inclines his head. “Yes, Lady Morwen’thir.”

The title carries no hesitation now.

“Who knows the merchant is being watched?”

“Only the four guards assigned before your purchase, the evidence keeper, and me.”

“The King’s Guard?”

“Their captain knows we dispute the accusation. He has not been told what our watch observed.”

“Keep it that way until the ledgers and stock are secured. Varrus must not learn which part of his trail survived.”

Joran’s gaze moves toward the covered numiscu. “The merchant attempted to close his stall after the royal force entered the stronghold. Our watcher delayed his wagon at the northern lane without making an arrest. If we seize him too soon, his records may disappear elsewhere.”