Kira came to the window seat room at what had become her standard assessment hour.
She did what she always did — the quiet, focused examination that she performed with the specific combination of bloodline attunement and practical knowledge. She pressed carefully. She listened. She asked the questions I had learned to answer precisely because precision gave her better information.
Then she sat back.
And her face did something it had not done in the weeks of assessments.
It released.
"The position has shifted," she said.
The room was very quiet.
Darius, in the chair across from me, set down his pen.
"Shifted how?" I asked.
"Upward," she said. "Not fully resolved — it needs to continue moving, and I want to see it again before I lift all restrictions. But the critical pressure is re
