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“You reject access to medicine and records without seeing what I offer?”

“I reject visiting under terms where you decide whether I return.”

Rath’s gaze sharpened.

“That is pride.”

“No. Pride would be refusing because Ash Camp is poorer.”

Kesta pointed toward the medical case.

“I want those supplies.”

Dreven’s head turned toward her. Rath smiled. Kesta continued.

“I want your records. I want to know how recent imperial equipment keeps appearing on a world the empire claims it abandoned. I want enough medicine that Sera doesn't have to decide whether a child gets antibiotics based on how many doses remain for everyone else.”

Rath's smile deepened.

“Then—”

“I also want to walk away when I choose.”

The smile disappeared. Kesta leaned back.

“If your offer can't survive that condition, it isn't an offer.”

Silence spread through the chamber. Rath finally looked toward Dreven.

“She is going to make you weak.”

Dreven’s expression changed. Not anger. Something more thoughtful.

“Perhaps.”

Keth looked toward him. Dreven's gaze remained on Rath.

“Or perhaps I mistook obedience for strength.”

The room became completely still. Kesta forgot, for one heartbeat, that Rath was there. She looked at Dreven. The statement had cost him. She could see it in the tension through his shoulders and the uneasy flick of his tail. He had commanded for most of his adult life. People obeying him had kept camps alive. Yet he had said it anyway. Rath’s face hardened.

“My water price doubles at sunset.”

Pela inhaled sharply.

Dreven turned toward her. “Current reserves?”

“Six days if nothing else fails.”

Rath laughed softly.

“Three.”

Tavi straightened against the wall. Dreven saw the movement. Kesta did too.

“What?” she asked.

Tavi’s violet eyes shifted uneasily toward the water ledger.