Page 116 of Maksym

“Watched. Drank. Spoke to two donors, neither alone. Asked questions framed as compliments. How long has Amethyst been open? Whether royal presence was common on-site. Whether the Western Court conducted business in the public rooms or only through petition entrance. Nothing overt.”

“Too careful,” Bohdan said.

“Yes.”

Grace’s eyes moved between Shad’s face on the screen and my profile. I did not turn toward her. If I did, I might soften in a moment that required sharp edges.

Shad continued. “Before midnight, Lucian entered.”

The room’s temperature did not change.

It only seemed to.

My shadows stirred at the corners of Bohdan’s office. Not dramatically. Not enough for a human eye to notice, perhaps. But Bohdan’s gaze flicked once to the baseboards, and the screens dimmed by a fraction as the dark recognized my temper and leaned toward it.

I drew it back.

Grace’s breath had stopped. I waited until she took another one.

“Alone?” I asked.

“Two guards. Both vampires. He presented himself as a Council elder visiting a royal establishment while traveling through the territory.”

“How gracious of him,” Bohdan said.

Shad’s mouth did not move. “He was very proud of the fiction.”

Grace’s jaw tightened.

“What shape did the visit take?” I asked.

“Fact-finding. Controlled. Observational. He wanted to see whether your absence was visible in staff behavior. Whether security had changed. Whether Taras was present. Whether I appeared to be managing or merely covering.”

“And?”

“I appeared to be managing.”

Bohdan gave a quiet breath through his nose. Almost amusement.

Lucian could enter Amethyst with all the Elder Council arrogance in his blood and still find himself looking at Shad Devers, who had once made an enraged bear shifter apologize to a cocktail server in front of an entire lounge without raising his voice. Lucian would have seen no weakness there. That did not mean he had seen nothing useful.

“Human scouts have been running daylight surveillance on the building,” Shad added.

Bohdan’s expression cooled.

Grace turned toward the screen. “How long?”

The question left her before she seemed to decide whether she had the right to ask it.

Shad answered as if she did. “At least two days confirmed. Possibly longer. We caught the pattern because one of the witches reviewed reflection anomalies in the outer wards. Humans loitering in places humans do not loiter. Delivery trucks parked too long. Ride-share drivers accepting fares that never appeared. A woman across the street pretending to take calls while photographing the front glamour with a dead phone.”

Grace’s face changed.

There she was. The prosecutor beneath the new vampire. Pattern catching on pattern. Fear forced to sit beside analysis.

“Compelled?” she asked.

“Unknown,” Shad replied. “Likely mixed. Some may be paid. Some may be compelled. Some may have no idea what they saw.”