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If my refusal came from mate recognition, then the institution remained correct.

Only I had failed.

That logic had protected the Veil from scrutiny for years.

Maybe longer.

“The order was false before I met her,” I said.

Silence.

I continued. “The timestamps prove portions of the threat package existed before the alleged theft.”

No response.

“The royal-contact prohibition was embedded before she fled.”

Still nothing.

“Central Administrative Review used enforcement personnel carrying the same routing authority as her reclassification order.”

The handler remained quiet.

“And one of King Crencik’s sons accessed similar reproductive anomalies years before Talia found them.”

That changed something.

Small.

Almost imperceptible.

A breath.

Half a second too long before the reply.

“Royal matters are outside your mission.”

I felt my focus narrow. “You know about the prince.”

No answer.

“Which one?” I demanded.

“Disengage from that line of inquiry.”

That was answer enough.

Not identity.

Knowledge.

The Veil knew.

The absent prince’s investigation had not vanished into administrative obscurity.

Someone remembered it.

I glanced toward Talia.